RP:Tensions Mount Between Allies
Upon entering, you find yourself in a room that can be described simply as: Splendid. A magnificent cherry wood table, perfectly round in shape, with the finest white-gold inlay running along its edges, depicts the various races of Hollow traveling in a constant circle together. This commanding centerpiece was most assuredly a master carpenter's finest work. Surrounding the table are a series of high-backed chairs, each composed of the same adept wood-working and carved with uniquely elegant curves and patterns; yet none stands out as the superior to the rest, each artful piece as significant as the others. The only truly dividing factor of the chairs, are the colors of their plush velvet cushions--ranging from emerald to regal violet, crimson to onyx black; sets of four or five chairs arranged beside one another based on matching colors, as if to signify a gathering of varied officials. As regal and dominating as the meeting table is, the rest of the room is still rich in elegance. The smooth rock walls are colored a soft muted-coffee hue, visible between sections of velveteen curtains. Each curtain is of a matching hue to the chairs' upholstery, all bearing a painstakingly woven insignia, one for each of the prominent territories within Hollow: Enchantment, Larket, Venturil, Vailkrin, and Trist'oth. The floor is not outcast to the elegance of the room, constructed of gray marble so soft in color you are tempted to stoop down to touch it, if only to determine if appearances match texture. The veins coursing through the marble are, upon closer inspection, the same white-gold as found in the table, and they run from tile to tile without any semblance of seams immediately apparent. The occasional writing desk or side table--again of that same flawless cherry wood, graces gaps between curtains and provides further function to the room. Satin cushions are gathered in careful piles at random intervals, comfortable seating for those gathered but not members attending the table. Those sensitive to magic might sense the faint aura of protective enchantments coming from the walls, nothing interfering, but enough to ward off intrusive spells. If one is not left simply in awe at this room's perfect splendor, it could well be assumed they were a troll of little taste.
Parsithius is the culprit of the door's destruction; a simple kick of booted foot has the threshold explode into a shower of splinters.
Svilfon snaps his gaze to the king of Larket with a wince, "Ol' Mesthak's gonna make you pay for that. King or no."
Tiphareth whips his head toward the crashing noise at the door, shaking his head as he see's the armored king as it's origin. Always brute force with that one.
Parsithius narrows his eyes to more keenly pierce the haze of the smoky interior. Mesthak; he'd do nothing to raise word against Parsithius. Especially not with Larket's military and financial prowess.
Svilfon begins to quietly mumble words taught to him by Tiphareth.
Parsithius interrupts words mumbled by the sudden flinging of a chair against the wall, which shatters in a violent and almost deafening explosion of wooden shards and splinters
Svilfon decides it prudent to stop mumbling in light of the king's temper. So he does.
Tiphareth seems unphased by the outbursts of Parsithius, though he remains watchful of the man.
Parsithius 's gaze falls upon Tiphareth, then Svilfon, then back to the drow lord. "What is going on?"
Velve turns and raises a brow at the, seeming, barbarian as he doesn't seem to know how to work a door. His single crystal blue eye looks upon Parsithius with unasmusement, and perhaps slight annoyance. He may have to kill this man if he mistreated his long time partner in the shadowy businesses that he held. He turned back to his drink, crystal still sitting next to him on the table as he turns his back unto the rest of the tavern. Something he never used to do. A hand subtly slid down to rest on his dagger belt. His cloak engulfing his movements in the shadows woven embrace.
Tiphareth laughs slightly, "I might ask you that question, as you're the one causing a ruckus."
Parsithius cannot be killed by any man such as Velve; the human is a king, let alone a man such powerful as that of Larket. He has earned his reputation by fighting in more wars than years Velve has been alive, be it if even over one hundred, and narrows his eyes upon him; it makes him angry. In the elder days, even opponents and hated rivals knew how to respect one another, so therefore, the disrespect in Velve's post only shows the childishness in his nature and the self-boasting of a man that does nothing. Instead, Parsithius looks toward Tiphareth, "I do not trust you."
Svilfon keeps his gaze shifting between the dark elf patron and the human king. Though, he rightly keeps his mouth shut.
Tiphareth leans back into his chair as he responds, seemingly without a care in the world, "I gathered that when you accused me of crimes within Larket that I had not committed. I must say, my trust for you was shaken as well. Though I have since discussed it with Jacklin and our relationship was suitably mended."
Parsithius keeps his gaze upon Tiphareth, "I am King, Tiphareth. Jacklin does not boast higher authority than me and you cannot undermine me by saying such. And for the record; I did not accuse you. My wife did." He smiles at the drow in equal arrogance, before shrugging his shoulders, "As for trust in me, yours does not matter. The underdark, even when allied with Enchantment, comes not even second to Larket's own military prowess."
Tiphareth leans forward slightly, "I did not boast anything, nor did I attempt to undermine anything, I merely stated facts that transpired. And your wife was not present during your accusations, they came from your mouth. Regardless, that issue is behind me. Your insinuations seem to be phrased in the form of a threat, are you indicating Larket's military has interest in war with Trist'oth?"
Svilfon cannot stop a small smile playing on his lips as he listens to the two rulers speak to each other, though he does remain silent.
Parsithius lifts his hand toward Tiphareth in dismissal of the other's words, "I spoke only that which was ordered of me, Lord Tiphareth. It was before I was King. And as for war- Seek Trist'oth war, Larket will respond. I am not oblivious to your antics. Should you keep yourself out of Larket's military sights, then you have no need to fear." Tiphareth returns to his formerly reclined position within the chair, "My antics? I can only assume you are referring to the scuffle I had with a few wood elves. I wasn't aware Larket's borders had extended this far south."
Parsithius smiles at Tiphareth in a manner that admits defeat in the drow's logic, "You are correct. They do not. But Larket shares a border with Kelay. Would it not be prudent to defend it's allies?"
Svilfon speaks, though it is not his place to, "King of Larket, I must ask: You would lead your city to war in these tumultuous times, for the sake of elves? Not even of Kelay itself?"
Parsithius blinks, turning his gaze upon Svilfon, "Larket joined forces against the Duergar with the Elves, did they not? The drow may have forgotten that. Why forsake our allies?"
Svilfon said to Parsithius, "To stop yourself gaining more enemies."
Parsithius said to Svilfon, "More enemies? Larket has more allies than enemies. Kelay shares a border with Larket. Why forsake that? Even combined, many lands cannot defeat Larket. Especially when either myself or the Queen heads the military."
Tiphareth retrieves a wineskin from his satchel before pouring himself a glass of Drow spirits, "It seems Larket has a wide array of allies these days... is that to say that any skirmish within the land demand the attention of Larket's military? I have always been an ally of Jacklin, even before she was Queen, and have remained as an ally since such a time. Are you implying that the pathetic wood elves are your preferred allies to the Drow? That you would declare war upon us for acting upon interracial issues which have progressed for thousands of years?"
Svilfon shrugs his shoulders before saying, "The only flaw in your logic, good king, is that the drow war against the elves. Not against Kelay. But, I am not in a position to debate with you. I am not your enemy, nor do I wish to be."
Parsithius said to Svilfon, "Speak your mind."
Parsithius lifts a hand toward Tiphareth, "Hold for a moment. This other speaks unbiased. You speak toward that of the drow."
Svilfon waves his hand towards Tiphareth, "What he said. You ally yourself in a war that has happened since drow and elves walked this world. You would risk the lives of your men, though I am sure they give them gladly, to enter into a war that is not your business... Merely for the sake of.. what? To satisfy your desire for bloodshed? They do not threaten you. The lives of your subjects should mean more to a king."
Tiphareth smirks as he takes a long slow sip of Drow wine from his goblet, close attention paid to the words of Svilfon as he engages in political discourse with the Larketian King.
Parsithius nods, slowly, "You speak truth. What is your name?"
Svilfon tips his hat to the Larket King, "I am Svilfon. As I say, I have no desire to make of you an enemy, even though I serve as an apprentice to the mage's guild. I am only curious as to your actions, King of Larket."
Parsithius lifts a hand in dismissal of the other's excuse or apology. "Mage's guild. Listen to me, Svilfon. You speak with logic and rationality. I will heed your advice!" A smile, which is a rarity on the king, coupled with a chuckle. "You prove wise!"
Svilfon stands and offers the King a bow, respect evident in his movements. "Then you are truly a great king. For you listen to advice from the lowest of citizens for the good of your city." The wizard turns and offers Tiphareth a bow, full of equal respect, though he doesn't speak to the puissant mage.
Parsithius chuckles again, the mirth on his face rare indeed; it's been twice in a single day, "You flatter me. I serve merely the people. Come to Larket, Svilfon, I would very much like to talk politics at length with you." And with that, the Larketian King rises, aiming to make an exit so his player can sleep.
Svilfon ndos his head, "I will, good King. Fare well."
Tiphareth motions to Parsithius as he stands, "I must tell you, for the sake of full disclosure lest you find out at a later date and feel manipulated. This human is an apprentice of mine, I have been teaching him magic personally for the past few weeks now, though I assure you, his political thoughts are fully independent."
Parsithius looks toward Tiphareth, "If he spies upon me, I will remove his head from his shoulders. Otherwise, he should be fine."
Svilfon chuckles nervously at the threat, "We only discuss matters arcane, I assure you."
Tiphareth said to Parsithius, "King Parsithius, you've accomplished a great many things, and have knowledge of inner workings throughout the land. In all of your time knowing me, both when we've been in opposition or agreement, have you ever known me to be, or even heard tale of me being at odds with the best interests of Larket? I've no interest in breaking my alliance with Larket, Jacklin, or yourself."
Parsithius nods toward Tiphareth, "I know you speak truth, Lord Tiphareth. And thus, I will put trust in you. This situation with elves and drow... It is none of human concern, I believe. And no, I do not believe good Svilfon will act as a spy."
Svilfon said, "I will not."
Parsithius exits south
Svilfon looks over to Tiphareth and bows once more, "I hope you do not mind my opinions to the king."
Luthentius inclined a gentle nod toward the drowish eldermage, naturally a sign of acknowledgement of the ones presence.
Tiphareth said to Svilfon, "To the contrary, you've proven to have unnatural stores of wisdom within that human mind of yours."
Tiphareth returns a similar gesture toward the Grey. "It seems tensions run high within Larket, I'm sure the King has much to get used to with his newly granted authority."
Svilfon spends a moment trying to decide whether he's been complimented or had his his race obliquely insulted. He decides on the former and nods his head, "In this world it seems the wisdom of true morality... Not like that idiot drow earlier... is seen as a virtue. It is one I am glad I have."
Tiphareth said to Svilfon, "Indeed, it is rare these days within any race. Knowledge without wisdom breeds only pompous fools..."
Svilfon snickers, "And we know there are plenty of those around."
Tiphareth closes his eyes and shakes his head, lamenting Svilfon's words, "Far too many."
Luthentius ' attention would seemingly settle upon the exterior of the drow magi. An indifferent veil caressing the pallid complexion of the high elf's aged visage. The King has always been passionate about the kingdom and its people, unfortunately he is a little snowed in toward the military aspect, but that is why I am present.
Svilfon tips his hat once more to the patron drow before making his way to the door. He stops just before he leaves and says to the dark elf, "At least you do your best to rid us of them, Tiphareth. That is one battle I will never interfer with." He bows to the mage, looks over Luthentius just briefly, before wandering outside to resume his studies.
Svilfon exits south.
Tiphareth nods toward Luthentius, "Evening, I must be off. It's been a long night."
Tiphareth exits south.
Related Pages: