Atol stands quiet, nervously watching the proceedings.
So now our fear mongering has led to a coup!
He leans in close to Dyrant and asks quietly, "Did we like the last mayor? I don't think I like the new one. He's too slick. We just put him in power didn't we?"
Atol shuffles on his feet and looks to see what Jenya is thinking.
"I should have prayed for zone of truth today." he says to no one in particular.
"A question before we get to voting. Lord Taskerhill, I would know more about your intents as Mayor. And furthermore, how is your daughter and the rest of the Stormblades? Would they willing to help us?"
Lord Taskerhill doesn't immediately acknowledge Dyrant, but after a few moments of awkward silence without any votes finally addresses him. "And who are you, sir, that stands on the periphery? You would would question my intents? My family has been a cornerstone of this city for centuries. My family and I seek only what is best for Caulrdon."
Glimmil waves his hands at Dyrant and Toffitt, flips up his visor and gives them both a thumbs-up sign before attempting several hand gestures that seem to indicate no evil.
Glimmil sucks in his gut and stands tall, which is fairly easy for him being one of the tallest Cobwaddles.
It's a good thing do-badders can't hide their evil intentions from me! Nope, no way there's any magic or anything that could mask evil...
Glimmil smiles at Cog and rubs his friend behind his ears.
Toffitt gives a small ahem. "Lord Taskerhill, your family is indeed a cornerstone of this city, while we five have only these last months of good to claim as our own. The gods have guided our hand, giving us the might need to serve Cauldron in this moment. I am no holy man, but I have faith that the gods shall also ensure that your tenure is good and just." Through our blades and prayers, if need be. I suppose that's clear enough to leave unsaid...
He pauses, hoping to have been artful enough, before continuing. "Let us be clear: the Cagewrights threaten to destroy the actual cornerstones of Cauldron. We are united in our desire to avert such a fate, so let us seal this compact, and get about our respective tasks."
Dyrant takes two steps towards Lord Taskerhill, his hands clutching AngelRelic, intending to cudgel both some common sense and some courtesy into the Lord; however, Dr. Toffitt's diplomatic words stay his mighty cudgel for the moment.
Dyrant holds back while he gives Lord Taskerhill the stinkface, awaiting his response.
Sure wish Lady Celeste was here. But she's trapped at an art show.
*teehee*
There are other minor lords and ladies standing around the room, but clearly the power rests with those at the table. Finneas was invited and sits at the table as the head of the church of Kord. The rest of you were asked along by Jenya (or Finneas could have). Again, there aren't a lot of actual rules or traditions for what is happening with a missing (presumed dead) mayor.
Lord Taskerhill doesn't directly answer Toffitt, but speaks more to those at the table. "It sounds as if we are agreed then, I will become mayor and bring back some strength and order to this government. My administration will see to the welfare of the city and its citizens while the Cauldron 5 will deal with those who would threaten our great city. Let us get to work."
Lord Taskerhill begins to stand before a few of the ladies stop him with their "uh hmmm". Lady Jenya calmly states, "We haven't actually voted, sir. And, at this time, we have only one candidate. Hardly seems the best way to start things off."
"True, very true, but as your friend has pointed out there is little time to waste."
Ellywinkle pipes up quickly, "And what about Jzadirune? I'm not exactly sure we want to be part of Cauldron in its current state. Maybe its better if we spent some time apart. When things have calmed down we can do things right."
Lord Taskerhill finishes standing up and leans over the table. "What do you mean time apart?! Jzadirune is part of Cauldron."
Toffitt smiles at Jenya's words and gives her a look. Who would be eligible?
To Taskerhill's question, he smiles and says impertinently, "If I may, my lord: We haven't time to settle questions of jurisdiction. It is clear Cauldron and Jzadirune's fates are intertwined. Let us settle such matters once our collective citizenries are safe. Ellywinkle, would you consent to work with the city guard to ensure a safe evacuation of Jzadrune's more vulnerable inhabitants?"
Dyrant, finally realizing he has little power to influence what these yokels will do, keeps quiet for the time being. He figures he will let Dr. Toffitt's mummy lips do the talking, then he will step in with the cudgel when needed.
"Doctor, should he or you pause enough to gain breath from your discussion, I would know what of the Stormblades. They might be of use to us."
Why does he obsess over those no-accounts? Surely they are among the best trained soldiers, but they would only be a distraction where we are going. Toffitt nods at Dyrant. "Will they be leading the city's defense, my lord?"
"I believe the 'adventuring' days of the Stormblades are done, but they will bring great experience to the city guard who has seen little except for angry drunks. Annah will make a fine captain of the guard. Wouldn't you agree that Terseon Skellerang is ready for retirement? And," looking to Jenya and Ellywinkle, "wouldn't you agree that SHE would fill the position nicely."
Ellywinkle nods enthusiastically, but Jenya's nod is a bit slower. "She is a fine woman I'm sure, but it takes more than that to lead the guard. However, for the moment, I do not think we could do any worse than Terseon."
Glimmil watches from his position in the doorway with little words, contemplating whether or not he'd prefer if Cauldron and Jzadirune were one in the same, or managed separately.
Looking down at Cog's big brown eyes, he realizes it's a decision best made by his canine companion.
Whispering, he inquires, "What do you think boy, who should run Cauldron?"
"Talking about guards and cities, we need to talk about armies and war. We're at war now, under attack. What are you going to do about that? What are you going to do about the people that slaughtered my brothers!"
Finneas slams his hand down at this last.
Dyrant notices as the religious contingent finally speaks, including his half-orc friend with the flaming eye.
About time we interjected religion into these politics. Nothing is ever wrong when mixing Church and State.
Dyrant keeps quiet, letting the nobility continue on, unwilling to interject and ruin things as they go apace.
Toffitt nods at Finneas' outburst. "Our own quest shall bring us square against those who called for that slaughter. But yes, we have enemies within our walls, and more to come should our efforts fail. And I am determined that they shall not fail." He looks at the door to the hall. "We've little time for negotiations. Who else stands in hopes of being mayor?"
"Talking about guards and cities, we need to talk about armies and war. We're at war now, under attack. What are you going to do about that? What are you going to do about the people that slaughtered my brothers!"
Finneas slams his hand down at this last.
Lord Taskerhill manages to save his goblet from spilling and takes a long sip before speaking.
"At war? I see no armies camped outside our gates. Don't think me stupid though. I know that evil forces have their sights on our fair city. However, if there are armies ready to march here, I hardly think we would be able to raise one against it. We could hire mercenaries, but they can be so expensive. Our position here in the cauldron of the volcano with the natural defenses of the volcano's walls and the steep ascent have kept us safe, but I'm not sure what good they will do against what is coming."
Toffitt nods at Finneas' outburst. "Our own quest shall bring us square against those who called for that slaughter. But yes, we have enemies within our walls, and more to come should our efforts fail. And I am determined that they shall not fail." He looks at the door to the hall. "We've little time for negotiations. Who else stands in hopes of being mayor?"
Ellywinkle's eyes twinkle at Toffitt's words and you can almost hear the gears whizzing away in her head as if Aralynn were inside there.
"Mayor? Who should be mayor? She should be smart and strong and honorable and..." Her voice trails off.
Toffitt ignores Ellywinkle and turns to Skie and Jenya in turn. "What say you? What shall serve the needs of faith and coin?"
Dyrant waits impatiently for the lords and lordesses to decide what the need to decide so that the Cauldron 5.2 can get back to the process of saving Cauldron.
He clutches AngelRelic ever tighter as his frustration grows.
I'll give Dr. Toffitt's diplomacy more time to work then we'll act to impose a more common sense solution to the rule of Cauldron.
Edit: Dyrant is also waiting for any 'diplomatic' efforts from Glim and Finn as well.
"Thank you for your consideration, Doctor, but the church keeps me busy enough." Jenya looks to Skie at the back of the room.
"Me? Uhm. Who's idea is this? Glimmil!"
Now Lord Taskerhill pounds his fist on the table, "I believe I've had enough of this. We would see this city run by someone who collaborates with thieves? Come now, Skie, how long has it been since you've worked with the Last Laugh?"
"That is part of my past, Lord Taskerhill. I'd be careful before you start throwing stones. Who knows what you might uncover."
Toffitt looks askance at Taskerhill and thinks about which nobles he's seen on his occasional visits to the brothels. Perhaps not him, but certainly his friends.
"Our mayor shall need to protect all of Cauldron's citizens, including those who have been acquitted of crimes or served their time. I had asked only what the High Priestess and Skie think, from their perspectives. Based on your response, though, perhaps Skie would be better suited to protect all of Cauldron. She has certainly proven herself a capable business woman, and has been a stalwart ally in protecting the city." Or if not her, perhaps a noble with some small measure of humility, you prig.
Atol watches the scene uncomfortably. He wishes Jenya would take the lead and become mayor because he trusts her, but he worries about what might happen to the church in her absence.
Skie would also be good, but then who would we sell our equipment to?
Maybe the nobles should pick the new mayor from among their own. They seem to be the most interested in doing it, and that has to count for something. Right?
Mostly he just wishes it was finished. He mulls over his spells and considers what the enemy might throw at the party. He considers what he might do to protect his charges, both before and after the hits.
He leans into Dyrant and whispers, "How much longer will this be? We should press on and let the leaders choose a mayor among themselves. We can always vet them later and remove them from power if they are lacking." He says innocently.
He says, a little too loudly, "Let's go." His face turns crimson with embarrassment as he tries to hide behind Dyrant though likely nobody really noticed.
As the proceedings continue and suddenly Ellywinkle and Skie are added to the mix of mayoral candidates, Glimmil takes several small, measured steps into the chamber - Cog padding ever so lightly after his master.
Not Skie! She'll be in harm's way!
But, she's amazing! She'll keep the city safe!
But I can't protect her if I need to go to Finneas' home plane to whomp more fiendly-do-bads, or wherver we need to go next?
Glimmil's eyes wiggle around in place as his mouth opens and closes a dozen times as some internal battle rages in his brain.
Finally, Cog breaks his master's enthrallment with a loud bark and nuzzles his master ahead towards the main table.
"Yes! Errr, right, Cog!"
Glimmil leaps onto the table.
"Cauldronians! Fear not, for Cog has reminded me - Gnomish hero Glimmil Cobwaddle the Third - about who shall protect you - against the rabb-- err, evil do-badders that lurk in the shadows of this town!"
With a flourish, he gestures at the shadows, although he's fairly certain there is no detectable evil lurking within them at this particular moment.
"We've learned that Cauldron is best protected by a team - a team like the Cauldron Five! Why can't we have a council lead the town and not a single person! A single person would be in grave danger! But, a council! A council is stronger than the sum of it's individual..."
Glimmil pauses, and looks about at the others in the room, his brain clearly exhausted from assembling such a lengthy, coherent plan.
"...uhh..."
Glimmil looks from Fatol, Inneas, Doffit and Tyrant... to complete... his... thought.
Toffitt gets a slightly shocked look at Glimmil's good thinking, then smiles. "That sounds like an excellent idea. A council that represents manors, merchants, churches, trades, and smallfolk in turn. My lord, with your talents joined with High Priestess Jenya and merchants like Skie and Maavu here, our city can weather any, er, storm. What say you all? I trust you can appoint the new captain yourselves, while we get about our business?"
Dyrant grunts at Atol's outburst, yes, OUTBURST!, and grips his AngelRelic tighter.
"Careful now, Atol, we must guide these through their process. It is our duty to the Cudgel...to protect the people through the mechanisms of law and order. So....SIT DOWN!" Dyrant slams his cudgel into the floor, emphasizing the lesson before lowering his voice.
"Atol, this process may be boring and quite untimely considering what we have to do, it is important. And these nobles will likely need guidance and...OH, BY THE CUDGEL...the gnome is on the table!" Dyrant stops speaking to give his attention to Glim, remembering what happened last time.
* * *Glim speech* * *
Dyrant listens to Glim's speech, uncertain as to where it leads in the end...a council? Us? Them? Who?
Dyrant stays silent, waiting to see how the Lords react to being stripped of their hereditary mayor-voters.
Dyrant could see a small council made up of merchants, the 3 churches, and a few lords, (and maybe one of the Cauldron 5.2) working well. Dyrant would like more religious and 'common people' representation in the government.
Atol, a hurt look in his eyes, sits down heavily nearly tipping his chair in the process.
He folds his hands and sits quietly, as if in church listening to the service. He starts reaching for a scone in his pack, and thinks the better of it, putting his hands back in his lap. He waits.
Lord Taskerhill drums his fingers on the table and takes several deep breaths while waiting for Glimmil to vacate. "A council? Like the council a king keeps? That I could see, but this town needs a strong leader right now. As Finneas stated, it is a time of war. We cannot wait for a group to make every single decision."
"I'm not sure I agree with you, Lord Taskerhill." Jenya looks about the room. "Our town has always done best when we worked together. We just narrowly avoided disaster this last flood season when the greater good was no longer at the forefront of everyone's decisions."
Skie follows up quickly, "Perhaps a council would work. We all could keep an eye on each other that way. There have been far too many secrets in recent years."
"Secrets have their place my dear. The common man doesn't need to know everything. His mind couldn't comprehend it."
"Ah, but you see, My Lord, it wasn't the town's nobles who saw the dangers facing this town. It was we five relatively common men, with the aid of this devout woman, this industrious merchant, and this uncommon pup. It would seem that common men and women can comprehend a great deal."
"You and your families' leadership have been important to Cauldron, and I would not abrogate your contributions. But it is clear you need new partners, to meet the challenges ahead."
Dyrant nods appreciatively at Dr. Toffitt's diplomacy.
That's not bad. Not as pleasing as a cudgel to the noggin, but well done.
Dyrant awaits the reply.
A small council can still be agile.
Atol smiles when Jenya speaks, and he does his best to keep up with it. Still concentrating he listens to Dr. Toffitt's speach, but he gets lost...
Leaning over to Dyrant he whispers, "What does 'ab ro gate' mean? Is that bad?"
Dyrant, still listening to the proceeds, doesn't answer Atol immediately.
"'Abrogate' means to repeal or do away with, Atol. Dr. Toffitt is trying to balance the egos of the nobility against the good of the common man having a say in his rule. We shall see where this takes us. Fascinating, isn't it? I could watch it for hours, but we have more pressing matters, don't we?"
Glimmil maintains his position as acting centerpiece of the long table in the meeting hall, and uses an appropriate moment while most of the council-members are looking at Lord Taskerhill to palm a couple pieces of meat to toss at Cog's direction.
"So... what we do next is a vote, right? Who gets to vote?"
Toffitt nods and smiles at Glimmil's question. He gives a friendly, questioning look to all of the nobles, Taskerhill last of all.
"If you would be so kind as to get off the table, I would be happy to answer your question."
"My extensive research," he points to a large book of notes carried by a servant, "has shown that each of the noble houses has received a vote. Additionally, each of the major churches has received a vote. It has been several centuries since the last vote and that one was unanimous. In fact, they all seem to have been recorded as unanimous, whether or not that was the case. Considering the urgency of the situation, I think a simple majority should rule today."
Lord Taskerhill - Votes for himself.
Lady and Lord Vanderboren - Can be influenced
Lord Aslaxin - Can be influenced
Lady Knowlern - Can be influenced
St. Cuthbert - Jenya - Willing to vote for council or the party's nomination
Kord - Finneas
Farlanghan (Striders) - Meerthan - Willing to vote for council or the party's nomination
Garl - NOT Glimmil - Willing to vote for council or the party's nomination
Lord O'Litlnote - Can be influenced
Lady Wazername - Can be influenced
Glimmil gives a bow and leaps from the table upon request before blushing and taking a position next to Skie.
Fondo bows to Lady Knowlern.
He then turns to the Vanderborens.
And you, my Lord and Lady Vanderboren, you represent the great potential of Cauldron's citizens, whose most unfortunate children you still protect. Would you consent to government by council, ensuring that others may one answer the call to lead as you have done?"
He then turns to Lady Wazername. "Milady...? I have not had the pleasure of meeting you, but I see a thoughtfulness in your look. Cauldron needs leaders who offer deep reflection, not just those who command great attention." He glances at Taskerhill as he says the last, nodding with respect.
Finally, he turns to Lord O'Litlnote. "For all must shine in this dark hour, their very best qualities given record in the history of this fabled city. Will you share leadership with those others who make our home so bright, Milord O'Litlnote?"
Finneas sighs as the droning continues, less concerned with who runs the city than who is attempting to destroy it.
We're just going to do what we want anyway, what do we care who runs this place?
Male: It's our home.
The church is my home, the mayor has no power there.
"Let's be done with this and on our way. What is your choice Jenya?"
Dyrant listens, not really caring who is elected Mayor, knowing that he is tied to a higher power. He does have a preference for a Council, but has no issues in keeping with tradition.
Atol's mind wanders as he hears the various 'powers' discuss the future of the government. He tries, but fails to concentrate on what is being discussed. Jenya and Toffitt will have it sorted out properly.
He wonders what Coryston is up to. Is she still waiting for me, or has she given up on my adventuring ways? He considers trying to get a hold of her, and decides that the Sending spell might be a little I'm-watching-you creepy.
He sighs, probably at an inopportune moment in the proceedings and apologizes under his breath, "Oh, uh. Sorry."
For a moment he looks around for a desk or ledge or something he could use as a writing stand. Like a child looking for crayons and paper, Atol considers drafting that scroll he needs to get done. Seeing no reasonable surface (unless he joins the high table - which he has the wisdom to know would be rude) he shrugs and does his best to stay awake during the speeches.
With his charm in full effect, Toffitt finds it easy to work the room and he soon has almost everyone talking of a council over Lord Taskerhill's objections. With a council decided upon, the size and membership quickly come up as topics. It takes a while, much longer than many people believe is practical given the current state of affairs, but eventually a consensus is reached. The council will consist of four members with equal power: one noble, one religious leader, one merchant, and one commoner.
Lord Taskerhill simultaneously argues that the council is doomed while securing the noble's spot for himself. "I will do what I can to help the council succeed even though this goes against my better judgment."
Lady Knowlern convinces Jenya to take a position (unless Finneas is interested) and several religious leaders quickly endorse her.
Skie has a change of heart and secures the merchant's seat. "Someone has to keep an eye on Lord Taskerhill," she smirks.
Only the position of the commoner remains and somehow word has leaked out to the commoners who begin to pound on the door and demand entrance while shouting out a half dozen or more names.
Atol gets a little nervous as they look around the room for a commoner to join the council. He works very hard at avoiding eye contact with anyone, and eventually just stares at his hands. He realizes, eventually, that no one is looking at him and he relaxes a bit.
Do I know anyone who would be good for the council?
Atol thinks hard for a long time. Eventually he realizes that he really doesn't know that many people. He thinks about some of the folks who came through Dr. Toffitt's surgery when he was helping him, but none of them strike him as exceptional in any way - other than the interesting illnesses they presented. Well interesting to the good Doctor anyway.
In time, he shrugs at no one in particular and looks to the outer doors. He considers walking over to them and throwing them open to let in the rabble but decides that would just needlessly complicate and confuse things.
"Maybe it should be a business owner. They're committed to the town." he mutters mostly to himself. He thinks of Skie, and then notices her already on the council side of the table. Oh yeah. They already have that covered. Smart.
He shuts his mouth deliberately and looks to Dyrant. He knows the common man. He's always preaching to them. He'll know someone of value.
Yes. Though not common, they are commoners.
Glimmil hollers and applauds as Skie takes her position on the council's side of the table, but his enthusiasm is suddenly cut short when the idea that was swimming near the back of his skull finally reaches the front.
Wait! Isn't she in danger again, now?
Glimmil looks about the chamber again with concern, ensuring he doesn't get any evil tinglies of somewhat planning to do evilbadwrong to Skie.
Relieved that no such person exists, he begins to wonder what makes a "commoner" versus a "merchant" and thinks about "commoners" he knows.
Maybe Grandpa Cobwaddle...? Wait, isn't he gnomish nobility, he did claim to be descended from Garl Glittergold that one time he drank all that lemon-beer...
Maybe Atol...? But isn't he religious?
Glimmil glances about the room before finally looking down at Cog.
Cog...
Dyrant nods, happy with the outcome.
Jenya. Skie. Good.
"Come along, Atol. We can let them figure out the details and go from there. We have other work to do," Dyrant moves to gather himself and return to what he needs to do.
Even though the final name has yet to be decided, he prepares to leave the management of the city to the Council's hands.
"Unless there is other business, we have other things to attend to...?'" Dyrant says as he moves, offering up a moment for someone to raise issue for him to remain.
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"Get off the table, honey. You might be shiny enough to be a chandelier, but you do look quite silly up there." Skie stares at Glimmil--and not in that good way that leads to good things in the good room.
--
The pounding on the door stops and a few seconds later a few knocks are heard on the door.
"Well open up already."
Lord Taskerhill nods and his house guards open the door.
Coryston walks in, her ash cane tapping on the wood floor. She nods at each of the Caulrdon Five, pausing a bit longer for Atol, before addressing those at the table.
"A woman could grow old waiting for you lot to make up your minds. And, your going to do it as a council now? Well, isn't that dandy. If your looking for a 'commoner' then look no farther than me. I'm a failed adventurer; we're more common than obsidian jewelry around here. I've done nothing of note since then and am worth no more than the clothes on my back. But, I know the 'common' person if you're really interested in them. I know the hard working mothers, the drunk uncles, the wasted youth, and the hopeful, hardworking citizens that make up the foundation of this city. Perhaps, this city can help them help themselves. Maybe, just maybe, we can rise up as a town, united. Hopefully, hopefully, in the end, we will all be people worthy of respect and love, myself included." She glances at Atol.
Toffitt ponders. Certainly they could use the perspective of one who serves the smallfolk, and is not afraid to mingle with those thought unsavory. Or someone with charitable views. There is Madame Tashykk... If I were not busy chasing down demodands, perhaps I would be interested... Hrm... As Coryston enters, he shrugs. She makes a good case, as well. A little corner of his ego breaks, but he steps over the shards.
"You seem a worthy candidate. Surely, we need someone who is well versed and respectful of all those who make up the heart and foundation of Cauldron." He smiles and turns to the table. "Do we have agreement? Or other candidates?"
Atol first hears her name on the lips of those outside... Coryston? Coryston Pike? He can't believe it when he hears her voice and sees her again.
He sits up a little straighter, and meets her eyes when she looks around.
I thought you were through with... with all of this?
He grabs Dyrant by the arm as he gets up to leave, "Dyrant wait. Let's make sure she wins."
Atol stands and speaks up after the Doctor, "Yes, the Cauldron Five support Coryston Pike as the fourth council member. Now we must go and save the city."
He grins like a fool and blushes slightly, no longer able to hold Coryston's gaze... but he does look for a ring on her finger as his eyes run down her body.