RP:La Politique

Part of the Welcome To The End Of Eras Arc

Part of the Once Upon a Midnight Dreary Arc

Summary: Kasyr, in an effort to continue legitimizing his reign, revisits the agreement he'd made with Macon, re-opening trade between Larket & The Dead City, among other odds and ends.

Vailkrin Council Room

As the highest point of the castle, this room has the best view of Vailkrin one can achieve without taking flight. With that in mind, the room's walls are panes of stained glass. Through some magical means, the glass doesn't discolor the view for individuals within the room, but it doesn't allow for those that manage to fly up to the windows from the outside to peer in. Similar to the chandelier in the great hall, lanterns float high overhead near the ceiling, their light produced by glowing stones encased within. As is common with many rooms for planning and strategy, the largest and primary table is the focal point of the council room, and a map of Vailkrin with lands beyond it is burned into the surface rather than carved. The markings on the round table are a bit crude, but they're kept up to date by swapping the rounded panel the map is burned into out for a fresh map as needed. In the interest of maintaining clear lines of sight from every wall of windows, the large table doubles as a bookshelf., with the entire stone base of the table doubling as shelving for so many books and paperwork that what don't fit in the shelves are piled neatly either on the table or underneath it. Smaller tables are set at the four cardinal directions, but all seats are pulled to the main table for meetings. Here the sound of music within the castle is clearest, as if the sounds of the City of Undead have traveled and transformed into melodies that can only be heard within the room.

Kasyr has done an admirable job of cleaning up the council room by this point. What had once been a confusion of discarded bottles and haphazard documents has now been carefully organized into a pile of boxes set aside in a corner, overshadowed by the shelves that have long since filled up. Even the detritus related to the room's construction has since been cleared up, to the point where it wouldn't feel abominable to present to someone else. And at the end of the day, it -is- a matter of presentation, isn't it? It's the same thing that would see him wearing an understated combination of a dark blue dress shirt, a black dinner vest, and a silver tie. The trappings of nobility- the idea of what he should appear as when holding office. Frankly, the Kensai has a hunch that Macon could likely care less at the end of the day- but, servents do talk. And so, the swordsman awaits his guest- An action that is to be mirrored by a number of couriers who are there to greet the Larketian King and the members of his entourage, and to take any food or beverage requests they may have before they're escorted through the castle.

Macon travels from Larket in a caravan that contains three identical luxurious carriages that play a shell game to protect the Furious King. Escorting the royalty is a platoon consisting of horsemen and foot soldiers, along with a pair of Kingsguard; the heavy set mage Wendell, and the elven assassin-type woman, Rava. The young prince Guillem had begged to be taken along for this trip in the hopes that he could cross paths with his gladiatorial idol, Shishi, but Macon had assured his son that would not be a possibility given The Blue Demon’s banishment from The City of Eternal Night. Layer after layer of the entourage peels off from the king the closer he gets to the council room that is his destination. First the horsemen near the Blood Fountain, then the carriages near the entrance to the castle, then the footmen until finally it is only Wendell, Rava, and Macon entering. They request tea, ale, and whiskey respectively, with the mage giving his co-worker a judgemental glance which she shrugs off while their employer doesn’t hardly bat an eye about it. The king is clad in his silvery armor and wears the marble crown atop his head. He himself has come unarmed, although the remade Rage Stone is embedded in a socket on the backhand of his left gauntlet, its aura currently benign. “Greetings, Lord of Vailkrin…” Macon growls out in his practiced Lithrydelian accent, “... Thank you for the warm welcome.”

Kasyr nods faintly to Macon, resisting the intrusive urge to place his hands into his pockets- instead clasping them behind his back. "Welcome to the Dead City, Monsieur. I'm glad we're able to accomodate you, given your own prompt hospitality before." There might have been a hint of a smirk, but the Kensai is already shifting subjects, "But where are my manners? Have a seat, je vous en prie." The swordsmen makes a faint gesture to the few courtiers who'd yet to run off on errands, who are now in the process of placing chairs- before they're shoo'd away with a gesture. With that, the Kensai takes his own seat, and awaits his guests to follow suit- though, it will only be after the beverages soon arrive, that they'll be fully granted privacy. "Well, it's been some time since we've last had the pleasure. I hope my letter reached you at an opportune time?"

Macon carefully takes his seat, never the most graceful thing possible in plate armor, but this is just what one must do to show he is the strongest king of the strongest kingdom of all time. He receives his glass, smells and tastes the contents before smacking his lips and responding. “Indeed it did.” He smiles faintly, “I’ve also received a number of Vailkrinese… expats, if you will, at my border seeking refuge not long since your letter arrived at Fort Freedom.” He watches his fellow king after making that statement, trying to get a read on how much Kasyr is aware of regarding Larket’s newest residents.

Kasyr doesn't look overly surprised, but then, word gets around. Especially when you're doing your best to keep track of certain individuals, and any caravans associated with them. " I'd say I'd be wondering where they'd turn up, but that would be disingenious of me. I -am- somewhat curious as to the tale she spun, and whether or not this will interfere with our prior arrangement, or any pending ones." Kasyr, for his part, takes this moment to open one of the drawers from his desk, if only so he can begin casually fiddling with a few notes. "Oh, and before I forget- I do appreciate you upholding your end of things, and not overtly pursuing your vendetta against Valrae until the matter of Caluss was resolved."

Macon leans forward a bit, although his decently upright posture is maintained for the sake of that impractical crown of stone on his head, “I don’t anticipate that it will affect our agreements. I assured Lady Blackwell of two things, that she and her people were welcome to seek refuge within Larket, gaining all the protections that come along with living in my kingdom, and that I would not be getting in the middle of whatever feud you two might have going on. Your contributions to The Academy as well as the Larket-Vailkrin relationship should not involve, or be affected by Quintessa’s presence in Larket… and vice versa.” While under Macon’s roof, so to speak, each one will be safe from the other. That’s the gist of what he told her, and what he’s saying now. He looks towards Kasyr quizzically again, wondering if he is amenable to this kind of handling of the situation. Regarding Valrae and Cenril, The Rage Knight nods, or rather half nods, half shakes his head, “Yes… Of course now that The Mage Tower and Cenril have… gotten up off the mat, any further sleights towards Larket will not be met with as much tolerance as I was affording before.”

Kasyr might have quirk a smirk at the mention of a feud, though his expression is otherwise the same as before, and remains so even after the mention of the kings protection extending to the pair of them. As for Valrae, and Cenril, "I imagine so. You do have an image to maintain for your kingdom. As I do for mine- which es part of why I thought it prudent to discuss opening trade up between Larket et Vailkrin officially. In fact, I was hoping to negotiate some better terms on what existed before- given we've recently gained access to some resources that were not available prior. Specifically, this cities 'proximity'" There may have been airquotes there, "to Trist'oth and the recent tragedy, has afforded an opportunity to acquire certain rarer regional materials without having to deal with local politique." Just monsters and the festering undead residue of a genocidal god. "Though, I -would- have an additional request to accompany this, given just how lucrative an opportunity this could prove." At least until a new drow government is in place, and even then."

Macon is certainly open to renegotiating trade terms with Vailkrin to include the giant spider silks and whatever else they might be ‘plundering’ (he probably throws that word in at least once during the ensuing conversation) from Trist’oth. He instinctively tilts his slate gaze to the floor for a moment when the Lithrydelian Drow homeland is mentioned. Before he became sheriff of Larket under Jacklin, his role as one of the nation’s patrons saw him heavily involved in importing and exporting from The Hard City. This arena is where many of his strengths lie and he’s proven himself more than capable of handling this business for Larket in the past, both before and after his ascension to the throne. He will do his best to make it so both Vailkrin and Larket benefit from whatever agreement they come to, ensuring that the drow, once they regain control after this temporary arrangement, will be left holding the short end of the stick and will have to bite and claw to regain hand in the continental marketplace…

/will, no doubt, have to be somewhat cautious in his endeavours, given the myriad drow who were still encamped in the forests. And yet, he was already contemplating avenues to get around it, very much in a similar vein to his own activities during the quarantine. After all, there were numerous bodies, both dead and undead within which items of value could be smuggled- alongside the caskets used to transport the dead. Bit by bit- valuables like rare metals and minerals could be extracted, clandestinely- even as agreements were made with the natives for favorable terms in the future, alongside their extradition to more -civilized areas- (thus enabling faster extractions). But that was logistics for another time. "Well, by all accounts, it sounds like we're on the same page for much of this. I should note, that while I imagine my time will likely still be somewhat compromised due to my current position, I do still intend to continue my role at the academy. I truly do feel your city, and the continent could use a new generation of fighters prepared to contend with. Well." There's a vague gesture towards some of the still damaged sections of Vailkrin. The city would likely show scars for some time, given the level of destruction. "Still. I should likely offer you some degree of warning. A twofold one, en fait. Quintessa may have posed our exchange as a feud- but, I'd say most of the hostility is on her end. I'm simply dissapointed, even now. Her inability to take accountability for the damage she wrought- accompanied by a recent attempt at inciting civil war. Well, it would be quite akin to allowing witches to set up base within your cities walls." There is no pointed tone to the comment. If anything, it comes off as distinctly flat, "Especially one who has shown herself to be so cozy with Cenril et Valrae. But then, it's likely due to convenience. Same as everything else." With that out of the way, the swordsman folds his hands together, his expression slowly regaining a certain amiability. "That's enough doom et gloom though, non? I feel we've addressed most of the agenda- unless we're forgetting anything? Though, I -would- appreciate if you'd be willing to participate in a small ceremony later, just to officiate the new trade agreement with Vailkrin." And to help further legitimize his hold on the city, and role in it's revitalization.

Macon nods along with Kasyr’s sentiment about preparing the next generation of mages and magical fighters for whatever calamities the future might hold. Larket is actually in a unique position, because of the rapid aging effects that Vakmatharas’s Jar (or witches) unleashed on the kingdom, to have a wealth of recently matured and able bodied members of that next generation at its disposal. “I agree. I look forward to seeing you within the halls of the academy again soon." Regarding Quintessa, the king raises his arms and shrugs slightly, “I made it clear to her that any attempts made on you within Larket will be just as unacceptable as the inverse. I don’t think you have anything to worry about there. I see benefit for Larket for her and her people to call The Eternal Forest home, at least for now, and I’m sure she sees the benefits for her as well. The arrangement serves us both. It is nothing more than that. And I’m sure that she is aware of Larket’s stance on the ‘resurrected’,” he says the word with venom and the Veraotakan accent starts to seep out, “...mayor of Cenril. So I don’ believe she’ll be makin’ any waves on tha’ front.” To the trade agreement ceremony, Macon nods again and relaxes his posture, preparing to make his way out as he does the kingly thing of passing off scheduling arrangements to his staff, “Have your people contact the fort and we will arrange for something to be put together. Perhaps at The Blood Fountain or The Academy in Larket…” Just spitballing…