The Eastern Council : Session One

Vincent arrived in the City with the others but as he saw the poor condition the people were he ordered his servants close to him and stopped at a corner. He then dismounted and started handing out most of the provision that they still had with them.
As he was finished the others were already out of sight. He and his men just continued on foot from now on, they walked slowly through the streets and Vincent tried to talk to the men and women, to show them that life would get better.
He talked about Astrea and that the goddess was with them. He hoped he was able to help at least some of them. He had seen much peril in his time but the scale at which he saw it here in Marleons was too great to go unnoticed.

He looked haggard as he reached the place in which the meeting took place. He always cared too much for other people, in each woman in the streets he saw his wife and each and every child was like his own.
He entered  the meeting room with slow steps. He quickly looked up and managed a short smile and a few words.

"Greetings everyone."

He then took a seat next to a man he didn't see before, but it was like looking into a mirror, his face as broken-down and sad as his. He dared not speak at this time, the wounds in his soul were just too deep. So he just sat there and waited for the meeting to begin.

Quiris arrived in Marleons in stoic silence that was almost a fundamental part of him. His military garb had only received one change: a symbol of Raven Spear patched onto his shoulder. Seeing the destruction wrought to the people of Marleons made Quiris feel disgusted. Was there no boundary the Silvermists wouldn't cross? Good riddance, that the scum were beaten and routed. The people of Marleons would just have to survive now, and emerge stronger from it.

The castle was a different sight altogether. The halls were overly frivolous and ornamented. Quiris himself preferred the more practically designed halls of Ravenfort that wouldn't overwhelm the visitors and show off unneededly. Although, this much was to be expected from the rich lords.

Quiris limped his way to a seat with his walking stick. He took a seat near Simon Lane, but did't say anything or imply any need to start a conversation, for now.

The hour of them meeting arrived, and passed without event, and the gathered nobles were left to talk quietly between themselves or maintained their stoic silence. Fifteen minutes late, the oaken door was finally opened, and through it strode three men.

The first was a significantly overweight man of middle years, the royal Griffon embroidered on his tunic. Under his arm he carried a number of papers, and carried himself with an air of confident superiority common to members of the senior aristocracy. He glanced at the twin guards with a haughty expression until they moved out of his way. He then made his way to the central seat on the raised dais.

Behind him was another man of similar girth, though it was clear that this man was formerly of a muscular build, and that this had turned to fat through age and inaction rather than a particular love of food. His clothes were very well made, and he wore a slanted cap even indoors.

Finally the last member of the assembly was of an entirely different build, lithe and athletic with a fine muscular structure. His clothing was a mix of green and gold, and seemed to be permanently dust-stained and well worn. He was the only one to glance over the waiting nobility before taking his place, and as he did he offered Laisha a smile, then took his place at the dais.

The central figure rose when all had made themselves comfortable, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a small tin the contents of which he smeared on his index finger, that was in turn held to his nose and sniffed in with a mighty snort. Wrinkling his nose against its effects, he began to speak.

"I am Florian Dorengh *sniff*-Montague and I will act as the chairman for this gathering. I am a member of the Griffons as was stated in my letter to you all, where I serve His Majesty as a..." here he paused, and replaced the tin into his pocket with a smile

"'technical advisor' with wide powers to enforce his, ahem, will. In the future you will have the chance to elect a chair for subsequent meetings, as per the regulations posted in those...

He paused, and held his index finger rigidly over his nose, but it did no good. He let out an almighty sneeze which reverberated around the room. Wiping his nose down with a hastily applied handkerchief, he finished as though nothing had happened, replacing the tissue as he did,

“*sniff* ...packets, which I would invite you all to read at your leisure."

His eyes began to water, and he pinched his nose hard between his fingers, wriggling it about as though trying to dislodge something within.

"*sniff* As you well know, the steppe suffered most during the recent war, and thus His Majesty has seen fit to grant certain privileges to see it improved. Firstly, the Law of Halves is hereby revoked, the Mystmountains remain a considerable threat, and we would like to see this frontier well defended against incursions” he stated with little apparent care about whether the barbarians were dealt with or not.

“Secondly, the Feudal Law is in force, with the limitation that County titles may not, for the moment, be usurped. Steal your neighbours cows, kidnap their peasants, or even invite the Mystmountains around for tea, for all I care, just do not destroy the delicate balance of power in the region; however this is a matter which should be discussed later in the meeting as I am sure that this Council can come to some form of legal regulation regarding the transfer of power.”

Once again he grabbed the handkerchief, and blew his nose loudly into it, before replacing it in his pocket with a grimace.

“Lastly, onto the matter of the Mystmountains themselves, Pendor is not formally at war with them, as His Majesty is worried about further incursion into Ravenstern lands, however this does not mean they may not be targeted, and you may likewise expect raids on your own properties from them. For the time being they are too well entrenched to take, but that may change in the future. This matter should also be considered during any deliberations over the reclamations of new territories.”

His piece apparently done, he glanced down at his papers, and shuffled through them giving a snort or a grunt as he skimmed their contents, apparently he was an able administrator even if he was terrible at speaking. He stopped at one page, and read it through once more before raising his head to the nobles.

“There is one other matter to be addressed, but it is not so pressing at the moment, so let us deal with these issues first, before I hand things over to my companions who I am sure also have concerns to raise with you. Open for discussion now are; The Law of Halves, and the Feudal Law, including the legal transfer of title and power. Any comments thus far?”

Tysha listened intently to the Griffon. Was this the best the self-made king could offer? How could an Order of these upstarts have defeated the full might of Sarleon?

"It seems perfectly clear. His Majesty is most magnanimous in granting these rights."

Everard noticed someone sit next to him, who's face betrayed his feelings inside. Could it be? Another noble who cares? Perhaps the East has a chance..

Following the Griffon's arrival, Everard raised his eyebrows.

"As you yourself said, the Steppe has suffered the most in the recent war. As stewards of these lands it is our job to tend to the souls of the East, is there any additional information on the Mystmountains? In my studies, I have heard of the clans that compose their forces. Are these clans at odds with each other, or do they stand united against Pendor?"

Perhaps unoticed by the others present, a tall man in battered plate armour stood, arms folded, impatient behind the fat litle Griffon man as he opened the meeting. As he watched the obtuse little creature in front of him stumble akwardly over his own words, he began making overly loud clicking noises with his tongue, clearly irritated by the length of time it took the Royal entourage to clear the doorway.

Bloody nobles. You tear my homeland to pieces for your own selfish gain, and now you have to balls to strut around MY home city, to debate the laws by which My people should live?!? May Astraea's justice fall swiflty upon you all...

Reaching the end of his patience, the Griffon finally finished his painstaking speech, and the armoured man made his way past the three Kingsmen, brusquely. He looked over the room before him, and a clear disdain for the gathering spread over his face. Reluctantly, the man bowed stiffly and began announcing.

"My Lords, My Ladies, Godwin Ardell, at your service and the service of the King. My Lord Andros Vaaron expresses his deepest regrets that he could not attend in person, for the reasons stated as follows"

Godwin proceeded to unravel a scroll that was tucked into his belt.

"To all present for this most prestigious Eastern Council. It is my regret that I cannot attend this meeting of my peers. However, whilst the lords of this land will trade empty words and sing their own praises as to their prowess in the Noble Wars, I will content myself to remain here at Southrun County. For so long as my people must rebuild their homes, re-sow the fields salted by the unjust, struggle to feed their families and try to rebuild their shattered lives, I will be by their side with hammer, scythe, plow and pitchfork as my weapons. I intend to show these poor folks that not all nobles of Pendor have forgotten their duties. I will however send your regards to them.

Yours, with love, Andros Vaaron"

Godwin grinned widely by the end of the letter, and had no shame in allowing the others to see it.

"Good old Andros" he muttered to himself as he went to stand behind the chair of his Lord, never a thought of occupying it in his mind.

Under his breath, Simon commented, "Bastards. All of them. They care not for the well being of the northern lands, and they open up the gates of strife in the Eastern Steppes.

So be it. If they want to turn the steppes into hell on Pendor, let them. By the time the dust settles, my people will be up north in our ancestral homeland, isolated from the rest of the world."

The warrior then then tries to drink from his goblet, but ends up disfiguring it. It was apparent that Simon's patience grew thin...

Laisha regarded the man who smiled at her with surprise.  She seemed slightly less disinterested after, even as Florian rambled.

When he finally finished, she observed the early reactions of the others, trying to perceive their motivations and reactions.  She nodded as Everard asked his question.  "The Mystmountains have their infighting," she answered flatly.  "But they'll always come together if they perceive a threat or want to raid.  Making life miserable for Ravenstern, and Pendor, is what they do best."

Vealdis, who has taken seat next to Tysha listened to Florian's little speech and was not the least bothered. He knew these kind of practises. He did however raise an eyebrow at the letter Andros had sent. He turns his head to Godwin.

''Lackey? or what ever your name was. If your lord has more pleasure in working on the field then governing the East then let him stay standing in the mud. It is a disgrace that he cares more for his own reputation with his peasants then the good of the realm. Send that to him when you see him building a shed.''

''Further more...How could we best tackle the threat? Try to root them our or building strong defences?''

Vincent listened closely to the man talking, he did not care about his behaviour, the things he said were very important. After his finished and the room grew silent again after the first comments he cleared his throat and answered as well.

"Thank you for the trust the King puts into us, for me there is nothing to discuss right now, please continue."

"That is indeed true," began the green man slowly, rising from his place as Laisha finished speaking, but he was cut off by another noble responding before he could finish. Once the man had said his piece, he continued, his own voice was surprisingly high pitched, like an adolescent whose vocals had not yet broken, but regardless he carried himself with the confidence of a tried and tested veteran.

"I am Vincent du Pont, Knight Commander with the Clarion Call, and we believe that those barbarians are the primary concern for this region. Pendor has not ignored the Mystmountains, but the vast majority of her armies are positioned in Ravenstern protecting the far more populous - and wealthy - counties exposed by the fall of Poinsbruk."

Stopping only momentarily, he bit his lip as though considering what, and how to say his next piece.

"However we have fought the Jatu for decades, and have adopted to the the rapid response which fighting the Mystmountains also demands. Unfortunately we are exceptionally short on manpower, as such the role of the Clarion Call will have to be purely reactionary, and any major offensives will need to remain in the hands of you, the nobles."

Halting again for a moment to catch a breath and collect his thoughts once more, he continued.

"What we cannot do however, is garrison each and every village for you. Neither the Clarion Call, nor the Nobles will be able to defeat them alone, so we must work together. The senior command have decided to emphasise the rebuilding of the Outrider squads, with them we can react extremely quickly where Mystmountain raiders are found..."

His voice dwindled as he finished, and he sank back into his seat with a shrug.

Vealdis rose from his seat.

''The rebuilding of the Outriders is an idea that we all should rejoice at! Knight commander Du Pont? Is this idea affordable with the means you posses or could you use a donation? Coin spend defending the realm is coin spend good.''

Vealdis falls back in his seat.

Godwin turned slowly toward Count Vealdis and shot him a sarcastic smile.

"Oh, we both have very different ideas as to what is good for the Realm, my lord. You only further reinforce my lords accusation that the lords of this Realm have forgotten their duties to the Realm. Pendor, in itself, is nothing. Just dirt, grass, sand and snow. It is the people that make it so much more than just empty soil. Not to mention pay for those pretty clothes that you bedeck yourself in in. The power granted to you, my lord, was done so to ensure that the people of this land would remain safe, happy and secure under your rule, not so that you may remain indifferent to their suffering and their needs. Andros Vaaron it seems is one of the few nobles of the East that remembers this, and thus asks of them nothing that he would not ask of himself. And they love him for it. And through their love comes the respect of the people, and thus the power to govern to the greatest extent. The people are the true power in this land. The King acknowledges this. So should you"

Calming himself after being caught in the moment, his passion abating, Godwin turned to address the gathering.

"You all know where my lord stands upon matters of politics. If it aids the smallfolk of this land, no matter how little, then it is a change he will support. My...presence here is merely as a show of representation"

Vealdis face becomes red and he rises again.

''Are a few days really asked to much for the ''Oh so good and holy Andros''? What point does your Lord's praise matter when his home is on fire and his peasant's heads are on stakes? Because that will happen if your ''saint of a lord'' does not come to these meetings! Count Vaaron can't keep the whole Mystmountain horde outside his bounds if the lords that care for the Realm in the North have all fell in the fight for its defence. Every council meeting matters, for the aid of everyone in the East. Not just his peasants.''

Vealdis wants to sit down again but changes his mind and continues.

''And these cloths are not payed for with the taxes of smallfolk. I have made my own wealth, what you would know if your lord cared.''

Vealdis falls in his seat and keeps on muttering about Vaaron's aditute

Tysha observed the quarreling lords and messenger for a moment before speaking.

"We've been summoned to this council by the King. One of our number prefers the life of a peasant, so be it. Some take their duties as a noble in... odd manners. I'm sure we all appreciate the support the Clarion Call intends to offer. I do hope the King has some other assistance to offer those of us most at risk of Mystmountain raids?"

"My lord isnt a pious man by any means, and thus the phrase "oh so holy" would not apply, as far as im concerned. And I pity you, Count Vealdis, if you truly believe that the good folk of this realm are merely pawns in a game of lords, and that their "praise" is a non entity. Their needs and want are as great as any, and the East must be strong as well as the North. For if they are not happy in life and they do not admire their lords, then how can you possibly ask them to make a stand for something they have no determination to defend, if the savages of the Mystmountains begin an assault southward as you have stated they might? Think on that if you will, however it seems that your thinking and that of Lord Andros could not be further appart, and thus only time will tell who's approach shall bear fruit"

Godwin's mouth had grown dry by the time he finished speaking, and thus he filled a nearby goblet with water and downed it with gusto, before refilling the vessel.

"The people will care when those savages pour out of their northern homes," said Laisha, a touch of bitterness in her voice.  "Once, knights may have held back the tide on their own, keeping nobles from ever having to soil their fine linens on the battlefield.  No longer.  Even my brothers in the Clarion Call are too few to hold back the tide were the Mystmountains to organize again.

"Count Andros can send you here to preen about his good works while we sit here in council, but it's meaningless posturing in the face of real threats."  Her eyes glistened slightly as she finished, but she held her gaze steady.

"Very well, I will say no more about your lord then. But you yourself will be up next. Peasants are pawns. If they wouldn't be we would have no king, no counts and your Lord would be one of them. I pity your ignorance for the facts. Peasants must be protected, but there it ends. If you give every peasant a sword to defend themselves they would cut your lord's head of the first. Protection is what we offer and if Peasants could handle that thereselves we would be useless. Don't talk about things you know little about.''

Vealdis turns his head away from the man and towards Lady Tysha.

''A good question. The Northen lords are at a higher risk. If we fall ill will come to all.''

Godwin had barely taken notice of Laisha until now. He replied softly.

"And thus the people must be given a life worth defending. If my lord ever rides to war, he wishes to do so with an army that admires, respects and trusts him at his back. I here the tones of Ravenstern in your accent though, my lady, and I can understand that you would feel strongly about the situation. I can only apoligize for what the barbarians have done to your homeland"

"Gods, now I know how it must feel to be a Mystmountain. So much bickering!" du Pont muttered from his seat, glancing up at the nobles for the first time since sitting.

"Whatever your belief on the nature of the peasant, the truth of the matter is you are the ones with the resources and armies, and thus it is you they turn to for defence in times like these. I care not for your social standing, the Clarion Call is here to defend every man, woman and child who owes fealty to the great land of Pendor!"

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Vincent rose from his chair, and moved around in front of his table, then coming to lean on it idly.

"As I said, the Clarions do not have the manpower to be everywhere at once, but we do have the speed and mobility to reach the enemy wherever they may strike, but to do this we need to know where they are, and the northern lords are the ones best placed to tell us when these raids occur."

He turned then to Vealdis with a slight smile.

"We have the resources to raise what should be a capable enough force, although truly I would be a fool to reject any donations, it is information that we need most, and for enough conscripts on the ground to hold the enemy up until we can close for the kill."

Tysha looked from lord to lord for a moment, and then gave an exaggerated nod to du Pont.

"I will lead an expedition of my finest soldiers to the ruins of Poinsbruk, Sir Knight. A shame of course, that His Majesty will not allow us to drive them back and establish outposts in the lands they would claim."

Vealdis turns his head to Tysha.

''Very well, instead of every lord sending in a petty scouting force I will support Lady Tysha's scouting efforts if I can, by coin or by troops. I trust that her troops are able enough and that Poinsbruk should be a main point of interest. A force needs to muster somewhere.''

"This is ill-advised." Laisha looked at Tysha and Vealdis in turn. "Commander du Pont and I both fought the Mystmountains for the past two years. Even with a force of the region's strongest knights and what few allies we could muster, we could barely hold the attempts by the clans to enter the steppe. You would consign your levied militias to death if you marched to Poinsbruk.

"I would fully support any here whose lands were threatened by enemy incursion, but an offensive march on them right now would be suicide."