RP:The One Where Math Crashes a Meeting

Synopsis: It has been a long week for the people of Gualon as they recover and heal from Vargan's attack. At the local Town Hall, it's determined that maybe there was more to this than just a blood vengeance...From the sounds of it, there's a rising of Aramoth supporters in Frostmaw & they're not willing to negotiate at this time.

Gualon Town Hall

It's been more than a week since they were ambushed, and Mathollak has yet to hear any formal declaration of war against Frostmaw. He's yet to see any mobilization of troops to retaliate. But he knows they've been discussing it in the town hall. For minutes now, he's been waiting outside. Pacing. They're in a meeting. He isn't a ranking member in Gualon or in the encampment. But he was known now for being more than a local miscreant. He was the champion! His pacing stops. His waiting stops. He goes inside. inside are diplomats from Frostmaw. A giant. Apparently accommodations were made to get him comfortable, but he was on the smaller side for giants. A mere 11 feet tall. Mathollak barged in and evidently interrupted, because everyone was now quiet. "I know i speak for everyone when I say that we won't accept any form of reparations or restitution. Blood for blood is all we will accept." Looking around, he could see that none were happy to see him. Not even the (temporary or interim) leader of the orc tribes! What he didn't know, is that they were discussing a mutual enemy. Apparently some frost giant exiles got together with an exiled tribe of orcs and formed an extremist group of Aramoth worshippers.

Terra is trying to keep up with all that has happened within that last week. There's been discussions, different groups, strong opinions and reactions and she had been the one to try and hear all of them. There was still a faction that struggled to accept her stepping in for Tristram and this was not exactly how she had hoped to prove herself. When not hearing out the many, many varities of ways the orcs planned on destroying a village or two, she had been in the clinic and attempting to mend up some of the tribe members that had long-lasting injuries. Some couldn't be saved. Seemed she carried that loss heavy if the slumped form was anything to go by. Whatever they decided on would not be subject to orc approval alone, it was fall under Gualon's decision which meant ... hers? Mathollak's interruption did cause her to straighten, looking away from the Frostmaw envoy to the latest Larket Champion. "We appreciate all opinions but I would like to remind those gathered that we are here to discuss all options, especially as it seems we opened ourselves up to this attack." Hadn't Math been the one to truly start it all and the supposed reason (though she felt it was more excuse) for Aramoth's followers to return?

In the past week, Sargaso had only given his political opinion once: avoid war. In his estimation, Vargan’s small cadre of Aramoth zealots were not sent by Frostmaw, but were in fact an independent group of radical religious terrorists. He meddled no more in international politics. Today, Sarge loiters outside the town hall near Mathollak but not exactly -with- Mathollak. As far as Sarge’s concerned, the so-called Hero of Freedom is a loose canon. As if hell bent on proving Sarge’s inner monologue right, the Hero of Stupid Impulses barges into the town hall braying for blood. Sarge gives chase if only to provide extra muscle, and crosses his arms to wait and see how the Gualonians react, Terra in particular, whose gaze he seeks out. He’s relieved to discover that Mathollak has no bloodthirsty allies in the room. Satisfied, the paladin stays quiet and lets the bigwigs figure things out. Sarge is no politician. Allergic to the whole industry (but not allergic to the money he skimmed off Mayor Uma’s campaign). Though the fact Terra is a politician of sorts tickles him. Her? The rogue-ish woman who had agreed to infiltrate a pirate ship with him to steal allegedly-magical dice. Huh. Well, they do say all politicians are crooked, but he’s not sure this is what they meant.

Mathollak immediately became red-faced in shame. Terra got his number right. "You know about his wife? She was on a warpath...! I had to stop her. WE had to stop her," he said gesturing to Sargaso. "So we stopped her! It was the right thing to do." He believed this. Probably everyone believed this. But there was something else clearly weighing on him. Belphesius, the leader of the shaman tribe, interrupted his awkward silence. "Is there something else you'd like to add?" Mathollak pivoted from one foot to the other. Then responded. "...Yes. Only that I'm very ashamed of what I did after. Very ashamed." Everyone's interest seemed piqued at this point. Only he knew what he did after. "I mean I probably didn't need to box up her head and send it back to Vargan." He took a sigh of relief. That was clearly weighing on him.

Terra should not have been surprised to see that Sargaso was also present and she did her best to acknowledge him with a brief nod but she'd try to not to appear as though she had favorites amongst those gathered. Mathollak confirmed what she had gathered during the raid, what they all seemed to have decided on and then dug them in a little deeper in. Still, from what the Frostmaw giant had mentioned, this was not only about a head in a box. "You probably did not," Terra would agree and did manage to contain that amusement that briefly touched her. It was creative, sent a message, were she in any other position, she may have applauded it. "You may have had a hand in their first choice but this was not completely about your stunt. Our friend here," she nodded towards their guest, clearly out of place with his clothes trimmed in furs and made for warmth, "was just telling us about some of the talk around Aramoth. If you want to stay to hear it - both of you - you're welcome to find a seat." The 'No Interruptions' went unsaid but seemed very clear by the look she shared with both.

Sargaso takes a big step sideways away from Mathollak when he says ‘we’ and gestures towards the paladin. There’s no ‘we’. Mathollak’s macabre revelation earns him a side-eye and stunned eyebrow raise. What the heck is wrong with this guy? Terra speaks her clear-eyed piece and Sarge finds a seat in the town hall that does not have an empty seat next to it for Math to park himself. He squishes himself between two orcs of different tribes.

Mathollak found a seat and took his cue to be silent. But he glowered at the Frostmawian diplomat. Who met his gaze and decided to speak. "So again, before we were interrupted, we were discussing how this group of radicals is not actually with Frostmaw, the city. They are an exiled group of giants and an exiled group of Orcs, who have taken Aramoth's teachings to extremes." Mathollak rolled his eyes. This was all extremely dubious, but he wouldn't say that. He agreed to be a spectator in this fight. "Since they -are- based (we suspect) on our land, we would like to take the prisoners your people have captured back with us. For processing." At this Mathollak had no choice but to break his vow of silence. "NO!" He exclaimed jumping out of his seat. "You clearly can't keep your own people in check! Even on your own lands! Now you want to take OUR chance to do right? By our people? No. We'll keep them." At this point Mathollak catches himself. He meets Terra's gaze and mouths a word, 'Sorryyy'. Then he sits down and takes his vow of silence again. And means it. This time.

Terra is doing her best to remain neutral but Sargaso's side step and distancing from Mathollak, who clearly considered their paladin to be a friend, is something of a comedic sideshow. She'd make that suggestion later. As Math settled and the conversation resumed, the vampire took in the rest of the crowd to determine their response to the suggestion. Maybe, though not as loud, sided with Mathollak on that. "Conversations about the prisoners housing can be discussed at a later date but we reserve the right to confirm your findings by speaking with them first. They will be treated fairly in their cells, depsite their grave crimes." That was to the newly crowned champion and the poor giant who had the bad news of being the one to return that message to Hildegarde. "I will only make arrangements on the transport with your Queen as we have much to speak about." Including how best to handle all of this without going for a war. "Anyone else?" She made a sweeping gesture, indicating the floor was now open.

Sargaso actually agrees with Mathollak, but stays out of it. He’s not a politician! [insert ‘I’m not a rapper’ meme] Still, surprised at the fact that Mathollak said something reasonable (albeit, he said it unreasonably), Sarge looks over at Mattie with fresh new eyes and glances at Terra as she also seems to agree. When she opens up the floor, Sarge stands and speaks up, “If it’s, uh,” he thinks of a word more sophisticated than ‘okay’, “agreeable to both Gualon and Frostmaw, the Devout’s Guild can interrogate the prisoners as a neutral party.” He starts to sit then realizes he should probably elaborate on intent, stands back up, and adds, “We’d, uh, look into determining the root of their radicalism and their, uh, political affiliations, if any.” He sits back down. The sailor is one smooth-talker in a bar, with babes, on a ship, but this? Town hall in an orc city? He’s a fish out of water.

Mathollak knew Sargaso was fairly excellent in the world of communication. There were rumors. But what was this? Suddenly he seemed so shy. Weak. Wimpy! "A terrible idea! They were first charged with stopping Ushat in the first place. I had to intervene. Then things...escalated." Things do tend to escalate around Mathollak for some reason. And his memory of it may be fleeting, but he remembered what he felt at the time. Compelled. His vow of silence broke again, but this time it was sanctioned. No shame. Belphesius, the shaman, thumped his hand on the table. "Droghan accepts," he says, speaking for his tribe. Mathollak stared at him, confused for a moment. Why would he agree to this? Of course his voice overrides Mathollak, and he seemed to certain to change his mind. "Why?" Mathollak asks him. Belphesius ignored him. So Mathollak fell back in his chair and crossed his arms, grumpily. Eventually he realized why Belphesius agreed.

Terra watched those that spoke up. Once Mathollak sat back down again, she'd look back towards Sargaso. "Gualon accepts. Arrange to meet in Gualon. We welcome Frostmaw to be present for the Guild's findings, of course." The blonde caved, at least a little in her mind, and smiled towards her almost-partner-in-crime. With the leader of one of the tribes present agreeing, it felt like they could move forward. No one brought up any other topics and she'd look to the giant from Frostmaw one last time, "You're welcome to stay for drinks or check out the sights. Thank you for coming." That was a cordial dismissal of sorts, but since the day seemed to be wrapping up, she would also head towards the fully stocked bar. Jacobo, a slim man that is also well-known as an advisor of sorts to those that led Gualon, followed after with the meeting minutes and a whispered word to Terra. The elf nodded in agreement and then Jacobo went off to retrieve Mathollak and Sargaso, to summon them both towards the bar in order to make the arrangements for how the Guild visit would work and for Terra to follow up with some questions she had for the Hero of Freedom.

Sargaso is relieved when Mathollak’s 25491th outburst fails to sway cooler heads. He had a mind to argue with Mathollak’s faulty recollection of events, but this isn’t the place for that. When summoned by Jacobo, Sarge complies and joins Terra at the bar. “Looks like your city will be avoiding a war. I’m convinced Vargan’s group acted alone. Though not entirely unprovoked...” He glares at Mathollak through the corners of his eyes.

Mathollak finds his way over to the bar after Jacobo suggests he should. And while that is the sequence of events (Jacobo invites, Mathollak goes), there's no reason to think Mathollak wouldn't end up there on his own. "Pierre Ferland Number 3," he says to the bartender. Its something he knows should be there, as its won accolades in Chartsend recently. The bartender pours his glass and moves to replace the bottle, but Mathollak places his hand gently on the worker's, staying it. Mathollak was a champion now? He can afford whatever he wants.

Terra seemed more relaxed in the smaller gathering though she wouldn't truly be so until she had an answer from Mathollak. "How is yourrr," she trailed off for a minute there, unsure what the next word should be, "guardian?" The lilt at the end of that word confirmed she still was not any more sure on that choice but it felt about right. She moved a step back from the bar to let Sargaso place an order from the hired human who had left an entire bottle with Mathollak. The empath remained eternally grateful that this was post-meeting as she couldn't imagine what he may have been like with a bottle in him, if this was the sober version. "Thank you for staying back. I intend to repay the favor." Sargaso would likely know that had been meant for him, given that was how their conversation started over a week ago and yet there were no closer to seeing that goal through.

Sargaso orders a local grog. He eyes Mathollak’s cognac and the fancy-looking glass and thinks unkind thoughts about this foppish, axe-wielding pretender. But he says nothing to Mattie, and even nothing to Terra when she mentions the favor. He simply nods, despite having more to say - namely that he’s still counting on her to get him into The Chubby Mermaid - but he won’t mention any of that in front of Mathollk. You crazy? The nut would invite himself to the heist! He shifts the conversation back to safer ground, “I’ll let Khitti know about the interrogation and see how the Devout Guild wants to handle it. Tell her it has to happen here per the town council.”

Mathollak swirls the aromas in his fancy glass up to his nose and then sips it. He sees Sargaso judging him. Senses it in his body language toward him. "Nothing wrong with branching out," he says when Sargaso orders the tried and true grog. Then he nearly chokes on his drink. Terra's question catches him off guard. "Oh he's good," he says sputtering. Actually he hadn't been by to see him, but he heard he'd survived. He thumps his chest a little, coughs into his hand, shifting free the parts that went down the wrong pipe. "Well not -good- but...you know. He'll live. I think. Haha." His eyes watered a little from the coughing episode. "Yeah I think it's time you invited me to join the Devout's Guild," he says to Sargaso. "Or I'll invite myself. What's her name? Kitty? Doesn't really inspire terror does it..." Well, he had reason to celebrate all of a sudden. He taps the bar twice to get the server's attention, holds up two fingers. Two more fancy glasses come up and Mathollak pours them up with his fancy bottle. "Enjoy," he says to them.They had other business to attend to, he could see from the looks. Well, so did he.

Terra seemed entertained by Math's coughing fit and would take her glass to go. What were they going to do - charge her for it? There's a good chance of that. Jacobo would loiter with those that remained in the hall and work on escorting the Frostmaw giant. With her glass in one hand, she gave a salute to the two best pals at the bar. "I'll be seeing you both soon." Promise or threat? One could never be sure. Both Terr and the fancy drink are on the way out the door, on to the next bit of business.