RP:For the Future of Schezerade

From HollowWiki

 Summary: Brennia and Uriphiel have a long talk of politics over the holidays.

Date of Writing: Dec 28th, 2020. 










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For the Future of Schezerade


 Devere College of Baric Arts - [Main Hall]
After finding your way through the Topiary Garden it would only be fitting to come upon a prestigious looking establishment in the same style as all of Schezerade, enabling all it's decadence; marble forming the entirety of the large building accented with gold and platinum in which you'll have to cross over a wide glass bridge in order to reach it. The front double door is welcoming for all shapes and sizes that are the citizens of Hollow spanning a great distance. Opening it up one might be perplexed at the ability for the fortress to hold such music coming from the main hall there because all of the eager students practicing their many talents. Once immersed, the eyes might be stolen by the gaping cathedral ceilings above, spotted by gold and platinum in which encircle mini glowing stones to mimic the night sky, but beauty is not what the ceiling is for; it carries one's voice in the most pleasing fashion. This main hall is quite a vast oval-shaped room with all the walls have shelves, carved into small diamond shapes housing scrolls to nearly any song someone might wish to hear or practice in it's magic. Among the marvelous white-wood, gold-accented, concert grand piano in the middle of this large room there are a plethora of nearly every musical instrument imaginable scattered about the lounging areas, one just has to look.

Further into the castle, one's nostrils might pick up on the scent of mouth watering food being cooked wafting from the kitchens which is north of the main room and it also holds an elegant dining area containing a handful of tables. In the corner of this kitchen there is a winding staircase that travels below where students are bustling to and fro. If you wish to stay, grab your favorite spirits from the well stocked kitchen and listen to the bardic magic while relaxing in one of the many luxurious sofas strewn about these to areas. Off to the east corner of the main hall, there is a locked staircase with an outreaching design in onyx stone overlay which is seemingly inking over into the pristine luxury you’ve found yourself in.



  • Brennia is finally back home from her stay at the House of Ara spent healing, just in time for the end of the year feast and gift exchange for the fraction of the students that either choose to stay on campus for winter break or have no home to visit for the holidays. The campus has been decorated through most of the halls, but there isn’t just one theme because of the diversity and plethora of backgrounds that attend the school. None of the staff wanted any of the students to feel left out, so there is a little bit of everything. Although Brennia has yet to put on weight, she seems to radiate joy despite the dullness of the feathers to her wings and long dark hair, but she doesn’t look as ashen and sickly as she had this past year. Sure, she’s always had a warm smile for any and all, but something is different about her this time. The bard seems believably optimistic now and the kindness is contagious. People are practically tip toeing around the woman, unsure if this fit of health will last this time, but they’ve been polite enough not to pry as to what has been wrong and how it is that she’s so lively now. Wearing her usual oversized chord knit sweater, a messy bun at the crown of her head and her large round spectacles sitting like a headband on her apex. Her wings sway and flick with excitement as she helps decorate, but she doesn’t seem to notice the smudge of dirt in her cheek as she dutifully decorates a pine tree where her concert piano used to sit.


  • Uriphiel hadn’t been to the College in quite some time. The Avian’s duties made sure that he was kept quite busy with the training of his battalion of ill-suited shim, any spare time had been dedicated to trekking across the oft traveled roads of the civilizations below; An effort to keep the area safe from the many prowling beasts and dastardly thieves that waited in the shadows. It was a life he had grown accustomed to, one that he was more than eager to resume now that he knew the condition of his people and what was at stake for their future. Upon entrance, he would not be recognizable. Not at first. He wore a plate suit of alabaster and gold trim that protected a layer of blue iron chainmail, and navy blue dragonscale fixed wherever plate was not needed. A large, flowing, royal blue and gold-trimmed cloak hung around his neck, coming to rest just above the heel of his gold-winged sabatons. Upon the hip to his left, a new sword sat embedded in a well-crafted hilt of leather, and on his left arm a rather large heraldic heater shield bearing the former crest of the Aether Knights. His features were obscured by a full-faced helm that was decorated like the head of an eagle, with a narrow T-shaped eye-slit resting between the open beak. The architecture of his armor fit quite well with the majesty of Schezerade, although its design was quite different from what was normally issued by the city's military forces. Even more curious were the slotted gemstones peppered throughout the plate mail, with the most intriguing one placed directly in the center of the chestplate; A large trillion-cut gem that held a swirl of some sort of magical energy within. If anyone might recognize the stone, it would most likely be the Headmaster of the college as she had been present while it was in the process of being crafted. Uriphiel made his way through the halls, admiring the decorations that had been hung to welcome those of any and all faiths, something the Shar had not quite seen before. It was pretty. He would not admire long, however, because the man with golden wings had come with purpose. He hailed a young woman and spoke briefly, sending the girl quickly off toward the dorms. Not long in her task, the student would return, now with another in tow - A young brown-haired male that was known by the name of Quinnelan. The Shar removed his helm, and the pair spoke, most of their conversation covered by the ruckus made by the students reveling in all of the festive merriment. After a few minutes of conversation, Quinnelan saluted Uriphiel and ran off, allowing the Shar to take a moment to observe the ongoing decoration. It was only now that he found a familiar face, offering Brennia a polite nod and a gentle smile if she had picked him out of the crowd.


  • Brennia continues to work diligently until half of those in the main hall noticeably go silent and one of the young ladies that was helping her was rendered useless at Uriphiel's impressive entrance. The handsome avian had always caused a buzz with the students, though, but we cannot really blame them. The bard gently clears her throat and waves a hand over the young lady's deadpan face, but it all makes sense when Brennia follows the poor girl's gaze. An amused smile curves her lips up and she admires the new armor Uriphiel has. Being just a touch envious of the attention it's earned him because Brennia used to be able to turn heads like that before and render some silent. Right as she was about to go back to work hanging some garland his gaze meets her solid teal ones and her grin widens some more as she offers a small wave. She can practically feel the student freeze up next to her, so she spares the lady any possible awkwardness by handing off the garland and making her way over to the seven foot man. Having to look up as she shoves the glasses up the bridge of her nose some more, "happy holidays, Uri." With that a soft raspy and short chuckle is added because avians don't really celebrate god focused holidays like this since their kind doesn't really believe in the gods. "How is the role of Shar fitting you?" It's unfortunate, but due to his new workload and her health problems, they haven't really had a chance to catch up lately.


  • Uriphiel's lips push away from the white gate guarding his tongue, a more welcoming smile overtaking his expression when he greets her in turn. “Happiest of holidays to you as well, Brennia. You seem to be having fun with your duties.” It was only now that the Shar realized things had grown a tad more quiet, offering polite nods in the direction of those who would gawk in silence. It put the man at unease, causing his smile to fade into something resembling embarrassment. He persisted with conversation however, certain that the attention would not last terribly long. “It has been taxing, I will admit. This regiment, well, I fear most are not quite cut out for the soldier's journey. It is painfully obvious that Shezerade’s forces are one of desperation, and not of pride. Still, there are a few promising bodies. Some that are starting to come around - So there is hope.” Golden gaze looked over the woman, noticing that she still seemed not quite back to peak health, although she did look fairly better than last they met. “And you? How have you been holding up?” The avian glances around the hall before adding, “It looks wonderful in here, by the way. I love what you all have done. It is quite beautiful.”


  • Brennia shrugs her slender shoulders up which causes the darn collar to fall off one tattooed shoulder, but she doesn't mind it, "making these students happy is what keeps me going." It is when her gaze lingers on the stone he'd been carving before that she notices in the reflection of his armor that there is a smudge on her cheek. Casually using the long sleeve of her deep blue sweater to rub it away and eventually the hall picks back up with hushed tones and light music, but she catches the unease in Uriphiel's expression, "don't mind them." Her smoky timbre lowers so only he can hear her, "anyone that enters here in full armor draws curious stares." This is the more laid back educational institution after all and most bards aren't really fighters, so they depend on the tales of knights and adventures like him to weave tales out of. "I am glad you're finding your place here in Schezerade. We are lucky to have you," but when the question is turned to her health, she is a little flattered that he cares to ask. "I am on the mend… again, but this time I feel like I can fully recover." Her cheeks turn a shade of pink when he compliments the decorated hall because she appreciates flattery paid to things she's worked on rather than her looks… especially lately due to the way she's lacking. "Thank you…" she isn't entirely sure if he's moved out of the professor's wing or if he is still using it, "is your arrangement still fitting for you here or have they got you all set up over in the barracks?"


  • Uriphiel was happy to hear that she was in fact on the mend; The prospect of a full recovery a wonderful notion to focus on. “That is good. Continue this path, it suits you quite well. If there is anything I can do to be of aid, I am more than happy to be of assistance” The Shar shifted his stance, tucking the vacant helm under the arm that held the large shield so that he might at least free one hand. “Well, I don’t know about that - lucky, I mean.” he said with a modest chuckle. “My duty has only just begun - quite poorly, by my standards. However, I hope to earn that praise in the coming year. You on the other hand-” the avian gestured in a wide arc, highlighting the wealth of students and the well curated halls of the College. “I have heard much about your work here. The students, they really look up to you as I understand it. At least, this is what my squire had relayed to me in our training. He has helped my adjustment to this city and how our people evolved. You have done great work opening this school. Bringing in any who would learn - attempting to open our people to the idea that we can be allies to those that dwell below. If anything, they are lucky to have you.” Typically, Uriphiel was not one for such flattery, but what he spoke he felt had been truth in light of everything he had heard. Perhaps part of him knew that such words may give the woman the courage to keep pushing forward, to take pride in her accomplishments and to make sure she became well. When questioned about his housing, the shar shook his head. “I am sorry, but I have not had much time to sleep on the college grounds - for which I am eternally grateful for the opportunity, if I may say so. Training has been taking up entire weeks of my time, often having to grab rest wherever we are camped out in the land. I sorely miss the comfort of proper sleeping quarters, rest assured.” Uriphiel took to silence a moment, allowing his golden gaze to connect with teal before he continued and propelled the conversation forward. “Has the College kept you busy? That is to say, outside of the fun activity of decorating? It has been so long since we last spoke. What exactly has miss DeVere been up to?”


  • Brennia can feel her cheeks getting hotter and it is now reaching the long tapered tips to her ears, surely they are also turning a shade of red, but she keeps her gaze on the hall around them. "Thank you, Uri," she humbly accepts his flattery after taking a centering breath to finally look upon the fellow avian once more as she honestly adds, "it is horribly cliche, but many days these blended students teach me more than I've tried to teach them. I used to have dreams to spread their sense of unity throughout Schezerade," those dreams were dashed by the flewminati. "You haven't come across any misplaced avians with a cryptic tattoo on the back of their left hand, have you?" There was so much more to this question and maybe the tinge of fear in her gaze now that she no longer has Thedez to protect her. A look of genuine concern shifts her expression as she reaches a hand up to rest on his shoulder in kindness, "you will always have a room here when the nights grow too silent for you." The halls were always filled with pleasant music or singing and she remembers that was one thing he liked about being in the college because he doesn't like the silence. Her hand falls back to her side as the conversation moves on, "ah. Quite. It is just trying to get back into the swing of things and playing catch up from my time away. A surge of students came back from Cenril due to the virus that broke out there." With a playful little nudge with her dark wing against his light one, "oh, please. Just call me Bre," she didn't have the heart that the De Vere part of her name just means 'of Vere', the island she is from.


  • Uriphiel could see Brennia’s own embarrassment display itself, a splatter of rouge paint across a dark canvass, ascending up toward her ears. He decided to choose his words more carefully so as to not cause the woman further discomfort. “That is noble. Once upon a time, I might not have thought so. But now, more than ever, perhaps such a goal is necessary for the future and prosperity of the city. The current sitting council looks like they could use younger blood among them.” The Shar soon picked up on the hint of fear as Brennia posed the strange question, brow coming together in worry. “I can not say that I have. Not that I have noticed, at any rate. Why do you ask? Has something happened?” When the woman’s hand came to rest upon his shoulder, the armored avian wanted to recoil in disgust. It wasn’t Brennia’s fault. Not in a way that she knew, at least. She had been so hard at work, and he had just polished every inch of the plated suit just hours before. No matter, he scolded himself. It’s fine. It can be cleaned later. A deep breath taken, a count to three, and the thought slipped his mind. “Very, well Bre. A virus you say? What sort of Virus? Our training exercises have not left me much time to keep up with the news from the Eastern coast.”


  • Brennia is plenty comfortable in Uriphiel's presence, she just is extra flattered in the moment because she hasn’t heard praise like that from another avian in a long time. It is very nice to hear, but she doesn’t want to get a big head about it. His suggestion of some younger blood in the council earns a light sarcastic grin from the woman, “tell me about it.” Oh, if only he was around three years ago, maybe she would have had a better shot at becoming senator of Schezerade. She notices how tense he became when she touched him and internally she is confused because one minute he is paying her compliments left and right, possibly flirting, but the next he’s repulsed by her touch. She makes a mental note to never do that again as there is a slight sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. When their topic turns to a more dire subject, she motions for him to follow as they casually sneak off to an alcove that has a large window overlooking the college courtyard gardens. From there she can see the greenhouse which used to be a simple warehouse that worked as a campaign headquarters… it feels like that was a whole other lifetime. “A few years ago, during a tense Schezerade election between myself and Vermillion Draft, a cult by the name of the Flewminati started to make themselves known… at least to me.” Her wings visibly tense up as she continues to inform Uri, “they attacked me often with slander in the papers and even more often physically. They kidnapped someone I love and then even a few of my students,” she fidgets with her fingers. “There is strong suspicion that they rigged the election, but I accepted my defeat. I was no longer safe here and we had to evacuate the school and that’s when Vermillion opened the city up for evil forces to use. Leaving this place in ruins when they were done with it,” Brennia looks down as she feels the shame she deserves. She should have stayed and fought or -something-, but she ran and had to keep running because of the Flewminati. “If you see an avian with a tattoo like this,” she reaches behind her back to the hidden pouch between her back and the base of her wings to pull free a little sketch of what she had seen all those years ago. It is an eye with the world as the iris all set within a wing, “that means they are a cult member and should be apprehended. It is suspected that they fled when Kahran vanished and his forces left Schezerade, Senator Draft along with them…” she falls silent as she looks back out the window for a short moment, “but something tells me that they will be back.” When she finally looks back up to Uriphiel’s face, “and to answer your question about Cenril, there was a virus outbreak last Halloween and it turns the infected into these zombie like beings. For now it seems contained within Cenril.”


  • Uriphiel grew quite troubled as Brennia spoke about her hardship with this malevolent cult. News of her political running had been known to the Shar, but not to this extent. The cloak cascading off of his back began to sway with the shifting of his weight from one leg to the other, feathers of gold shaken loose with the involuntary ruffle of his wings. “And the rest of the Raan? Did they sit idle in his decisions? Were they part of this coup?” Uriphiel asked, tone turning to one of stern displeasure. “And the Empire’s military - What was their role in all of this? I must admit, this is highly concerning.” The Shar looked over the piece of artwork quite carefully once it had been revealed. He wanted to make sure it would be seared into his memory for as long as this threat was still out in the world. “Was there any investigation whatsoever into this cult? Anything at all that could potentially lead to arrests being made? Perhaps I am speaking above my station, but this is something that must be dealt with. It is something that must be brought before the Raan. Unless, of course, you have done this.” The virus of Cenril would go ignored - at least outwardly. While he would make a mental note, Uriphiel was far more concerned about the potential of immediate danger. “Do you have any ideas where this Vermillion Draft, or this - Kahran, you said? - to where they may have fled?”


  • Brennia checks to make sure they still aren't being overheard, but it's not like most of them already know, they all just wish to forget such a dark time. "Some of the Raan were also part of the Flewminati or they just blindingly went along with Vermillion because he was already Raan at the time and I was running against him in order to remove him from that place of power. So, yes they sat idle and some of them were a part of this cult. The Empire's military conveniently held ranks within this cult as well. This thing went deeper than I even got a chance to discover before all hell broke loose here and almost everyone fled Schezerade out of fear or to avoid prosecution. She shakes her head briefly when he inquires about an investigation, "no, no. Nothing like that because by the time they made themselves known this place had been turned into some sort of garrison for Kahran's forces and of course no one took my warnings about them seriously before that. I probably sounded like some crazed loon." A concerned glance is given to his wings… she's upset him and it feels strange to have done so, but if he wishes to truly protect these people then he should have the right to know, "the council has been halved in numbers along with avian citizens. People are still scared to death to even whisper the word 'Flewminati' anymore and when Vermillion fled, conveniently his hotel also burned down… destroying any possible evidence we could find." Her own wings fold tighter to her frame as if trying to comfort herself from the fear… they had put her through so much in such a small span of time, "as far as Kahran, I am not sure. A man named Lionel will know more about what became of him… all of that happened when I was held in that goblin farm. Vermillion was just one of his lackeys."


  • Uriphiel A sense of duty overwhelmed Uriphiel in that moment. To know that this cult, this Flewminati as it was called, had burrowed itself so deep into the city; Like a disease ridden tick that spread a bilous infection to the most vital organs of the society - It was almost unfathomable. Leather groaned as his gauntleted hand formed a fist, tight enough to most certainly turn knuckles pale beneath the layers of metal and dragon skin. The Shar loosened his jaw, careful in his speech so as to not let his words be determined by unrepentant rage. “Very well. I think it may be time to gather the remaining Raan. Find out exactly what it is that they know. Those that were kidnapped, your love - your students, have any been rescued?” Before Uriphiel could continue, the young brown-haired avian that had been summoned earlier finally returned, clad in the traditional armor of the Empire. “Sir.” he said, to which the Shar responded. “Squire.” The young man was one of the school’s native students, Quinnelan Silverstar, a middling academic that had signed up with the military a little later than many of his peers. Uriphiel had seen something in the lad and took him under his wing, so to speak. Handing Quinnelan the large shield he carried, the taller, golden haired avian issued an order, “Take this to the barracks. Things have changed for this evening. Instead, I want you to round up the others and head off for a simple patrol. We will continue tomorrow, mid day.” Quinnelan slammed one fist against his chest and replied, “Yes, sir.” To Brennia, the youth offered a similar salute and a bow, “M’am”, before running off with the shield to fulfill his evening task. “He’s a bright kid. He’s going to make it far in this world,” Uriphiel mused, turning back to address the problem at hand. “And you. You said you were held captive? In what manner? By this, I mean, is it connected to this Draft or his cult? If so, could there be any use in searching the areas for clues? I would like to interview anyone that had contact with this cult and lived. I will have to seek out this Lionel as well.”


  • Brennia's excellent avian hearing can pick up on the leather straining in Uriphiel's grip, but she does her best not to react outwardly at it. Her heart begins to pound in her chest as he seems to tower over her entirely in this small alcove. He is quite the intimidating warrior to be reckoned with, that much is evident. "Someone I love… or loved," the bard admits. She has no idea what has become of her dear friend SiDD and the expression on her face hints that she misses him as a sinking feeling opens up in the pit of her stomach. "SiDD no longer resides in Lithrydel and Eva went back to her home after being rescued due to the trauma they inflicted on that poor human, but you could read her statement for authorities," from what she could tell, they were going to use the student in some sort of ritual which is odd for avians. As soon as Quinnelan interrupts them, Brennia is able to switch her genuine and warm smile along with a believable positive attitude with a curious quickness. It could possibly raise questions as to how often she is putting on this fake smile and if this new delicately optimistic Bre is just a mask after all. A short raspy chuckle is given to her student as her smile widens which poke dimples in her cheeks, "good day, Quinnelan." As she watches the boy trot away and Uriphiel's words hit her, she automatically agrees, "yes, quite. Sweet, too." Eventually her gaze looks way up to the Shar again. "I-uh… Well, I've t-told you," the pain of the memory can subtly be seen in the depths of her eyes, but she tears her gaze away to look back out the window. "There is no way of knowing if the goblin farm was ultimately run by the Flewminati," her wings fold closer to her body again and she even wraps her arms around her waist. It seems she cannot outrun this trauma. "The farm was deep in Gualon. We can try to look? Thedez and I attempted to find it in case there was more to rescue, but we had no luck since we had been kept under a drug induced haze the entire time we were kept there." Pushing the glasses up the bridge of her nose again, she finally looks back up to mention, "I don't think Lionel will know much of the Flewminati themselves. He was the main person brave enough to put up a fight against Kahran, so he will know more about what happened with him." Guilt fills her and she wonders if all she will ever feel from her new friend is guilt, but she cannot help it, he seems far more capable and brave than she ever could be, "I feel like I should have told out all of this long before you became Shar."


  • Uriphiel shook his head and dismissed any notion of fault. “I do not place blame upon you for not informing me sooner. We had only just met. What is important is that I now know what took place. That I can put together some sort of timeline in which to cleanse and fortify this city; To remove the rot before it has another chance to spread.” Golden feathers delicately danced to the marble floor when he adjusted the positioning of his wings, and his demeanor relaxed shortly after. He could see the discomfort that the dean expressed.“I will not force you to relive your traumatic experience. Not until you are ready. For now, focus will remain on Schezerade.” The Shar fell silent for a moment, rubbing the back of his jaw as he mulled over his options. What exactly could be done? Have all the cult members fled? Do some still linger in the shadows? Surely, they could not be so daft. And what of the city? As he understood, it is barely able to function in its current state. The Empire’s numbers were thinned. The Raan were fewer than needed. The fate of the Avian race was dangling by a thread. After some time, Uriphiel broke the silence with the pieces of a formulated plan. “Yes, for now, Schezerade. Someone in this city must know more than they realize. And the Raan. We must seek counsel with the Raan. If they are to atone for their sins against our city, then they must be made to face the truth.” Golden irises fall upon Brennia. “Perhaps it is time to trigger a new election. To not only fill the seats absent, but to replace those who stood by and watched the horrors unfold. This is where we will begin.” he stated with a nod. “Once these steps have been put in place, then we will work on commerce. Bring Schezerade in line with the other great nations of this land in terms of wealth and power. We WILL make Schezerade more than some fledgling bastion for what remains of the fallen Avian Empire.”


  • Brennia falls quiet as he speaks, his words go through her and she is just content to listen. She doesn't even notice that his wings move enough to cause the loss of a few of those precious feathers and she swallows hard as his determination impresses her. 'But of course' she thinks to herself, 'he's from avian ancient lands.' He could be one fierce leader. Making sure to nod and agree in all the right parts so he cannot tell the gears are turning behind her large teal eyes, but in the silent moment that stretches between them, she continues to look up at him with her brow knit together in concern. Thankfully he starts to speak his mind and her facial expression relaxes as her wings subtly flick behind her, but she casually reaches a hand down to keep them still while her cheeks turn a shade of pink. "Yes, I hope we can convince the remaining members of the counsel to assist us." Brennia is always hoping to use her charm and kindness to get to the bottom of things, maybe that makes her too soft. Maybe that is why she lost the election, because she didn't want to result to violence. His golden gaze feels as if it shoots right through her and she has gathered herself enough by then to simply look right back, but his suggestion left her slack jawed. "A what?" She feels warm all over and like she might get sick right there even though she looks calm and cool on the outside. "Yeah, that sounds like a great idea. I am so excited you've decided to run," a pondering beat, "that -is- what you were getting at, right?" His last statement instilled a strength in her that she hasn't felt in a long time. This guy really has a way with words! She should ask him if he was ever a bard in his much... much, much younger days. "I can put you in contact with my old campaign manager, Corvo."


  • Uriphiel again shook his head as he answered. “I am afraid that a soldier has no place in politics. Not as someone who governs. Especially not one who has yet to establish themselves with the populace. No, we need those who have their pulse on the communities of our city. Those that have already earned themselves a place among their peers; And those that have risen to great heights, despite the adversity our people have faced.” The Shar pauses, looking over the many merry students and the work that they put into their holiday celebration. It was an inspiration. Once he settled on the words that would help illustrate his point, Uriphiel deeply inhaled and continued. “Shezerade is in a unique position. It can begin anew, with proper care and guidance. I know that there are those of you who are passionate about seeing the Avian race prosper. Who want to make Schezerade the shining beacon it deserves to be. Look around you, Brennia.” Uriphiel once again makes a gesture toward the busy halls of the College. “All that you have accomplished here - This is no easy feat. You are clearly educated, and possess a proficiency for such bureaucratic endeavors. You appeal to a wide range of beliefs, and it is this kind of spirit that would bring true unity. I understand that you may have reservations, given how things have gone previously, but I do implore you to carefully contemplate a second attempt at securing a place in the senate. And if your fears have taken everything from you, then I ask that you look toward the community. Look toward those that you know. Those that share your ideals. Encourage them to join the race. The senate is in dire shape, obviously. We need a fresh body of Raan to turn this failing Empire into something worth fighting for.” A solemn nod ends this line of speech, the avian lifting his alabaster-clad gauntlet to his chest, running his thumb along one edge of the gently glowing fluorite core. “Still,” he began, “This dream requires a meeting with the current body of Raan. They must be confronted. Publicly. We must allow them to see the grief of our people. To allow them to hear the concerns of those that fear extinction. We must know if they stand for the Empire, or if they are ready to let our people fall.” With the majority of his speech concluding, the Shar took his helm in both hands and slid it over his head. “I will give you some time to think it over. Some time after the holiday festivities. In that time, I will investigate the Empire’s ranks and test the waters. Observe with whom such ideals are favourable. After all, they will be the key in whether a change is even possible.”


  • Brennia looks out over her students as well as she also thinks on who might be able to lead. Someone strong, someone political and a born leader. She ran away from her responsibilities on island Vere AND lost an election here, so he is obviously not talking about herself, "hmmm. Maybe Corvo should just run," she grins softly at the thought because it is quite funny to see the man in such a state, but he'd told her long ago that he doesn't want that responsibility, he just wants to groom someone to be the one to become leader of Schezerade. "Right…" Earnestly trying to think up an avian that fits Uriphiel's descriptions as they are trying to form this plan together. His words steal her attention again and she is nodding along with his very well put points, even following his gesture to look out to her little college filled with a ragtag population of students. A soft grin spreads over her cheeks and pokes dimples in them once more as a small bit of pride swells in her heart. This is all she ever wanted and those few years ago, when it was threatened to be taken away, she had so much fire to fight back…. The bard's fire has been snuffed out and this cruel world has done well to do that. When the word 'unity' is uttered, her attention snaps back up to his face as a start to a chuckle bubbles up, "unity… that used to be my whole campaign premise." Then it hits her on what he is getting at, causing the light in her eyes to dim and her arms to wrap around her stomach at the same time her wings shift for comfort. "Uri…" she softly starts, but is distracted when he runs his thumb along the edge of that core. "Look at me, do I look like a leader to you? Would you think twice of invading Schezerade if I am to be Raan? Assassin's would have the easiest job coming after me. Just blow me over and I fall down," but then she does as he says. She thinks about her community, but not only the college. The many nights she has seen the tavern come to life, the plays at the amphitheatre, the blitzball games at the grand arena. This is her home and she feels a duty to protect it, but then she looks way up to him again and -really- looks while gears turn in her head, "but you. If you help me, stand beside me, Schezerade will look stronger. You are quite intimidating, Uriphiel." Hell, she can't think straight whenever she's around him because it feels like she's always doing something wrong and he can see right through her. It's not like she was asking for much, just be the muscle and… of course her friend. Their interaction is coming to a close and she agrees with a nod, "I will consider if you will. I promise to try and get stronger and maybe one day I'll be a fourth as intimidating as you," she is definitely flattering him now as she smiles with humour in her gaze.


  • Uriphiel largely ignored the friendly attempts at flattery, focus placed on not allowing the woman’s own doubts to overcome her. “Being a leader isn't about might. Not entirely,” he explained, ignoring his own reservations regarding personal space by tapping on her bicep. The gauntlet moves next to gently rap against her temple, “It’s about what lies in here.” His hand moves again, this time toward her chest, tapping just below her collarbone. “And here.” Not wanting to overstay his welcome, the Shar withdraws his hand and resumes his point, “While I am certain that many rulers throughout history were combat capable in some regard, the truth of the matter is that the majority of politicians are not warriors. Some are scholars. Some businessmen. Others are, frankly, charlatans that have perfected the art of speech. Being a leader…” Uriphiel trails off, his tone growing soft as he reflects on his own history. “It’s about being there for your people. Making decisions that are for the benefit of their survival. It’s the art of diplomacy.” For a brief moment, Uriphiel had let his guard down. Something in his tone gave away a sense of great regret. Although, it would not be long before he would catch this mistake and throw up that protective barrier once more. “The Empire - This is from where your strength will come. Let us, those who have promised to sacrifice all that we have for the good of our people, be your sword and shield. You have my word that I will be there to aid you along this arduous path.” The armored knight suddenly falls to one knee, head bowed, as a formal display of his pledge of allegiance. Of course, this would gain the attention of many of the nosy students, quickly confirmed by the abundance of hushed whispers that echoed through the halls. Not wanting the dean to succumb to a wave of embarrassment, Uriphiel waited no longer than a fleeting moment before he rose to his feet. “I am afraid I must take my leave, as I have to fulfill prior obligations. Do think about all that we have spoken. Think about others who may be beneficial to run for the remaining senate seats, as well. If we are to change the fate of our people, then we will need all the help we can get.” The Shar bows his head, the hint of a smile escaping that narrow, t-shaped occularium. “May the divine three watch over you.” With nothing left to add, Uriphiel pivots upon his heel and confidently marches for the exit.
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