RP:An Academic Alliance
Part of the Welcome To The End Of Eras Arc
Summary: Kasyr and Macon speak, with the former becoming an instructor at Larket's Academy of Magic.
A Letter Marked with the crest of House Azakhaer, which simply states 'Concerning the Academy'. This letter is suprisingly well-written. Which is less surprising given the sheer number of drafts involved.
Lord Macon Jauzon,
It's been a while since I've last enjoyed Larkets' hospitality. That said, I felt it might be overdue to send you a missive, as there were a few details I wished to speak to you about. One of these is simple enough- I was curious if you could arrange a meeting with members of the Academy, As I'd like to seek entry as a teacher- given my experience in the field of fusing spellcraft and weapon mastery.
I apologize for the delay in recognizing the credentials of your instituion, but it was only with the recent shift in Administration in Xalious Mage Guild, that I found myself trulying seeing just how...
Inept. It's become. Except to say that would be a kindness. It was a mistake to allow a histrionic effete to rise through the ranks- given the whimsical edicts they've doled out, their general inability to act with any sense of decisiveness, and the flagrant acts of nepotism which have seen
it's upper ranks glutted with individuals unfit to teach. Individuals only concerned with self-advancement, regardless of it's cost to the institution at large.
Worse, is the fact that even though a false god parades through the lands, and declares itself an enemy of Vakmatharas and Vailkrin- They sought to -suppress- the research I'd made on combating such an entity as heretical. In fact, there is a large amount of information they, and several other institutions have sought to suppress over the years.
We should talk
~Kasyr Azakhaer
King Macon's Office, Fort Freedom, Larket
Macon received Kasyr’s letter with a slice of skepticism and a lump of apprehension, but he had an appointment set up for today anyway as not entertaining the offers contained within would have been a disservice to Larket and Her people. Teleporting into Fort Freedom is a dangerous prospect thanks to the anti-mage regiment in place whenever a member of The Royal Family is present, which is most of the time given it is their primary residence. So however the revenant vampire enters the Hard City, he’ll likely be met with a platoon of Larketian city guards and escorted to Fort Freedom where he’ll be received by an elven woman in dark leather armor bearing the insignia of The Larketian Royal Guard. The auburn haired woman will lead the guest into the king’s office where Macon waits, seated behind his desk, perusing a collection of papers…
Kasyr isn't quite familiar enough with Fort Freedom to actually -use- it as a proper location for teleportation- as he's unable to even form a proper mental image of it's interior, or an awareness of if what few details he even recalls are consistent. Which is why he (and a set of boxes) emerge from a silvery divide in reality that crops up in the very heart of the city itself. He actually seems blithely unaware of the stares this earns him from passing pedestrians- his attention slipping to the rapidly vanishing blemish- one box set down so he can reach out and feel for any lingering sense of 'wrongness' or 'rawness' that might still linger.
A process which is almost enough to distract him from the armed escort that is quick to close about his position. There's an awkward moment where he waits to see if there's any sort of due hostility, in case -this- was Macon's response to his note, but when the group begins to lead the way towards the Fort, he simply shrugs at the display, scoops up his parcel, and follows in suit. For all intents and purposes, the swordsman is a surprisingly compliant guess- and certainly less drunk then the last time he'd enjoyed the hard citys 'Hospitality'. A fact which eventually brings him face to face with the other warrior-turned-regent, "I saw your declaration. It made for an interesting interpretation of events." Though, it had been released before the paper. The kensai, to his credit, is also managing to keep a straight face this whole time, his tone coming across as more inquisitive then anything.
Macon ’s elven Kingsguard moves one of the oak chairs away from the wall of the office and sets it opposite to The Rage Knight at the desk, silently waving her hand in presentation to Kasyr for him to sit if he so pleases. The lightly armored elf steps back to her station beside the entrance to the office with a quiet grace that somehow gives off a threatening vibe. Macon nods once to the revenant and his eye twitches ever so slightly at the word ‘interpretation’. “Larket has experienced no negative impacts from this alleged god of undeath that the rest of Lithrydel seems to be having so much trouble with. Either you are all blowing this situation out of proportion to benefit your own agendas…” This is a direct reference to his mention of Cenril’s current political climate in Fort Freedom’s public statement, “...Or, as I suspect is the case, We have the divine protection of The God of Death shielding us from the problems you all have created. I offered aide to the Mage Tower following the kidnapping fiasco they created and they rejected it. Look where they are now. You are here bearing their dirty laundry thanks to their uselessness. So regardless of what my -interpretation- of things are, Our way appears to be the best one. We sit here watching the rest of the world burn in the safest region in Lithrydel.” He stands. Walks around his desk and past Kasyr, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from Jacklin’s distillery and two glasses from one of the bookshelves and returns to the desk. He pours a neat glass for him and his guest and returns to his seat while speaking. “We are of course interested in you joining our Academy of Magics, but there are a few issues with your current affiliations that we will need to get past in order to make this happen…” He leaves that statement in the air, letting his guest choose to ask what those issues are or to start spilling his tea that he promised in his letter.
Kasyr carefully sets the boxes he'd been toting on the desk, stacking them so they don't overly obscure his view of the king- even as he takes the offered seat. Which means he gets to enjoy just how neatly that one word managed to make a small chink in the other politicians armour. The swordsman doesn't choose to press this- listening to him go through his speech, and even offering a brief nod of affirmation when Macon offers his small mention of 'Divine Protection'. Perhaps it was true- though Kasyr found himself quietly wondering what would happen if the bug decided to focus it's attention and subvert Vakmatharas' Grace. It's only when Macon brings up 'laundry' that the Kensai decides to gently rap against the boxes on the desk, and afford a non-chalant shrug. An easy-going demeanour that continues until the drinks are poured, and the Kensai can take up the glass. The refuge of inebriation might be denied him now, but it was still comfortable. "Well, if the bounty on my head that's been standing for months in Xalious wasn't an indication- there's been very little love lost. Not since they decided to try to steal et suppress all the research I'd made headway on, in regards to our current demi-deity problem." The swordsman is already poised to weather through any denial about Caluss' status, and tune it out with a pointed sip of his drink, before he'll just carry on, continuing it like it was a matter of scholastic fct. "Research which I'd certainly be open to contributing to the Academys Archives, " And likely the Devout guild, given their purview, but the man didn't need to know that detail, "once I can properly implement it, et ensure that my thesis holds up. I'm certain that opportunity es going to arrive sooner than later." There's just a general sense of dispassion from the Kensai here, his focus more on scrutinizing Macon's reaction to any details he lets slip. All of this, really, is business as usual- which is perhaps horrifying in an existential sense. "That said, if you're looking for specific details, I was not exagerrating when i said I've been making certain to ensure the errors of my predecessors are put to light. Especially since there's been research made on these matters which may prove...enlightening to you. In fact, I somewhat wonder if there had been a few 'Unforseen' accidents et fatalities at the Academy that might line up with when the tree was blighted- since I do have timelines for when this started." The box on the bottom, which is marked with a very casually scrawled 'WG" is given a tap this time.
Macon sips at his glass while listening, nodding quietly where appropriate. “We have long been aware of the incompetence of those pulling the strings at The Mage Tower.” He says this while knowing full well that his father in-law is one of those string pullers in question. We have no intention of suppressing any of the knowledge you have gathered and you will have the full support of the academy’s resources for any further research. If they end up having to come crawling to Us for salvation thanks to what you contribute, all the better.” He thinks for a beat, the Veratoakan accent he was sporting the last time he and Kasyr spoke is notably absent, and may have been suppressed by now to the point where it only comes out in his not uncommon fits of rage. He speaks like a native Lithrydelian now, and that is by design. “You will have a mouthpiece here to expose their hypocrisy as much as you see fit. The academy was acutely aware of the damage done to “The Weave,” as they call it, caused by the terrorist witches to the Xalious Tree.” This is said with venom as that tree is Xalious’s to protect and the multiple attacks on it speak again to the weakness that has overtaken The Mage Tower. “And we were able to detect the brief interruption in magic world-wide a few months back…” He eyes the box being tapped for a second and nods, slate eyes narrowing before he speaks again, “You’ve clearly brought a breadth of information. The specifics and details can be parsed through later, by minds meant for that work. This meeting is to deal with the big picture, which is you coming on board with the academy. As I said, We are happy to have you… but there is the issue of you actively acting in support of a Larketian fugitive; Cenril’s mayor. That is an allegiance Larket’s People will not accept. Your public involvement with The Academy of Magics is part of the allure of this proposition to both of us, I’m sure, as it is a dagger in The Tower’s back. However, it cannot be public while you continue to show that impostor your favor. Your personal pursuit of her assassin must end and any aid you provide to Cenril, should it even continue, will have to be under the table…” The King watches Kasyr closely while providing these conditions, looking for any physical reaction to them.
Kasyr may have canted his head just slightly at the terminology used to describe Tessa- curious if it was with tactic knowledge about the perpetrators of the events, or simply his 'Larketian Interests First' rhetoric filling in the blanks. In either case, it would serve as enough of an indication to take the top box from the pile, carefully bring it to the other end of the table to drop it- and coax the swordsman into carefully rifling through the bottom box. The details always helped here- even if the files were.. a bit out of order after the journalists had gone through them. "Oh, I think I've already done a fair bit towards exposing their hypocrisy with the help of that leak to the papers. Though, I didn't see fit to entrust the original copy of these details with anyone save Larket." Because when your opponent is magical, where else then a city that has a paranoid relationship with that very element to store those files. And certainly the sleight against Lanlan, however subtle, was appealing. That said, whatever petty glee might be found in the idea is suppressed, the swordsman only offering, "I try to be thorough" as Macon runs through his speech. A speech which does little more than to provoke a small snort from the Kensai. "Ah yes, the public help I offered them- like having to clean up the zombie plague that emerged courtesy of our rampant divine related problem. Because not one amongst them had the wits to try et burn it out- and simply sat on it et let it fester." Was he still wanted for that? He was somewhat past caring, "Et I'm surprised you're coming so quickly to the rescue of another witch, enfin." Which is about the point that the Kensai decides to bring out the warrior guild documents he'd been searching for- the details of Quintessa's involvement with the blighting of the trees, with her attack on Krice, and the cover-up of these details, which had ultimately resulted in her demotion within the guild. "That said- I don't particularily have any other designs for Quintessa. For the moment, I think this has done an adequate job to limit her movements et influences, et by extension- to wither her usefulness to her patron. Ideally, I'm hoping that halting the agenda it had in mind for her es going to lead it into revealing itself, pre-emptively." Whilst the Kensai is well practiced at masking his emotions, the one trace that does slip through, is hints of .. disgust. A sort of dissapointed anger- which is quelled with another sip from his glass. The pause is useful, however, it allows the swordsman to properly provide a retort to the final statement, "I'm not actually sure where you got the idea Valrae was getting, or even going to receive public support from me- other than the tantrums of the bog witch." Kasyr can't help but be pleased about that little turn of phrase, "It was a cute paper, vraiment. But I think it would have hurt her feelings if she figured out how off the mark she was, with who it was that had sanctioned me putting an end to her." If there was anything there to ensure he was telling the truth, it wouldn't even have a single lie to latch on here.
Macon smiles as Kasyr feeds into his ego by saying the only place he would entrust his original copies was The Hard City. One more gulp and his whiskey is finished, quickly refilled, with the revenant’s getting a top off if he ever sets the glass down onto the desk. He’s happy to hear that there is no love lost between what should be The Academy of Magic’s newest faculty member and Cenril and it’s mayor. “Good.” Then the kensai makes that comment about coming to a witch’s rescue. “There are degrees of evilness t’every witch.” The accent is coming out. “If one means t’kill the wors’ of them all. Then I suppor’ tha’ effort.” That anger the vampire lets past his veil of emotion bounces off The Rage Knight and is amplified back into the room. Rava, the elven Kingsguard drops a hand to a knife at her hip and narrows her hazel eyes, but makes no other move. “Our kingdom’s intelligence is something I take pride in, but it is of course not complete. If wha’ you say is true, then there should be no obstacles in the path of you cooperating with Us and The Academy.” There’s no magic present to ensure truth saying here, that’d be quite off-brand for Larket’s King. He takes a breath before another sip of the dark liquor. “I can set up a meeting with Our headmaster soon to get you in place and provide anything you need.” The accent’s gone again as he trails off, leaving space for Kasyr to continue with his information leaking as it seems like there’s still more on his mind…
Kasyr had to put down the glass during his paper shuffling, and so, he finds himself furnished with a fresh drink- even as his words seem to have hit home. 'The lesser of evils' argument was at play here- and whatever it was that had passed between Macon and Valrae was to such a degree that it warranted seeing the continent slide into the ocean, if it meant dealing with her. ...It was a sentiment the swordsman wasn't entirely unfamiliar with- where the world could rot, if it meant balancing the scale for a single moment. Which had flickered through his mind as his hand passed through Tessa's chest, and made the idea of wrenching her heart out a dangerous temptation. A feeling he had struggled to suppress out of necessity. "There es something I wanted to request- however. It's well et good to let the animosity between two witches play out, until one wins, or they kill each other- but, the agenda of her Patron es still a concern. To that end, I wanted to make a small request. Simply put- That until such a time as it can be 'proven' that sympathizers to the Bug lord have been dealt with, et that true faith In Vakmatharas has been restored at home- that trade with Vailkrin be suspended- et goods that might seek to travel past your city might find...difficulty in doing so." There's a casual pause here before the Kensai casually adds, "It's hard to be a heretic, when you lack the supplies to do so." It's here the swordsman casually straightens up and then extends a hand out to Macon, "That said, words are wind- I think the saying goes, non? I can do you one better, et give tu an oath, on my word as Daedrias living champion in Lithrydel. Whilst Valrae's continued existence is necessary while the demi-deity exists- once it es gone . . . I leave the matter -entirely- to your discretion. Et so, If you'd be willing, I can offer to make an oath before the Lady Daedria who serves as my Matron deity, a pre-emptive oath of non-hostility between between Myself, et House Azakhaer, et both yourself, et the city of Larket." Not having to deal with a walking calamity seemed like an appealing enough deal- really. Though, Macon doesn't seem like the type to take an oath spoken before a goddess lightly.
Macon takes a moment to weigh his options here. The moment of exaggerated Rage Aura has passed and Rava releases the tension in her body, looking away from the two royals with a bit of disappointment on her face. The Larketian King won’t make a hard promise without consulting his economic brain trust, but he knows his kingdom is currently prosperous. Larketian stone is in high demand thanks to, at least indirectly, the rebuilding effort that is beginning in Frostmaw. Again, this is another disaster that The Hard City has avoided the consequences of and been able to only reap benefits from. So the idea of letting the two witches fight it out, just as he’s let the rest of Lithrydel drive itself into ruin, is something he is amicable to. He believes that cutting Vailkrin off is something Larket can currently absorb due to the other boons they are experiencing. “I will have the figures shown to me. If it is doable to temporarily stop trade with Vailkrin, We will do it.” He agrees to leaving Valrae alive until Caluss is dealt with, but in reality this is a white lie. Any actions against Cenril’s mayor have already been set in motion, are now out of his control, and have so many degrees of separation from himself and Larket that they shouldn’t be traceable back to him regardless. Again a smile from the middle aged human, “We will accept this oath.” He stands, looking to end this meeting before Kasyr can squeeze in any other conditions to his joining of The Academy, and extends a rough hand that betrays his past as sheriff and knight. “Would you like the headmaster t’make an announcement once everything is confirmed, or should we leave that t’your people.” He knows that spite is a large part of the incentive for this alliance, so he’ll give the Revenant the pleasure of sinking the knife in if he wants it.
Kasyr taps his chin for a moment as the larketian tries to weigh out the ramifications of the agreement, "If it makes it more amenable- I would be open to forging a new economic contract after this ...'unavoidable hardship' hits the city. There's certainly some useful resources we have access to due to the curious adjacency which we share with the underdark. Et perhaps more specific to our cities when they have properly recovered from this unfortunate series of events." That small bit aside, the kensai drains the rest of the hiskey, then moves to stand. That said, there is a slight pause as he clenches Macons hand, as he bows his head, and offers a rather distinct prayer to Daedria, "To my Lady Daedria- I present this oath between our parties. May you strike us dead if we break it." Which, given his nature as the last foothold between the Ascendi and Lithrydel- probably carries a little bit more weight then most. And yet, his good spirits never falter once. He shakes firmly, and then steps back to clasp his hands together, "Actually, i was wondering if you might be able to get me an invitation to the Ahr'Nuk faire as one of your envoys, perhaps." Spite. Definitely Spite.
Macon grins wildly at the consequences of breaking this oath, and adds to the end, “May He take us with grace.” The emphasis he puts onto the ‘He’ leaves no room for mistaking the zealotry to Vakmatharas for anything else. To the request for an invite, he nods knowingly, “As a member of The Academy, an affiliate to The Mage Tower as of Our agreement after the tragedy of Peter Ealhstan’s death, you are already welcome at the faire… Enjoy your time there.”