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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Delemental" data-source="post: 4758365" data-attributes="member: 5203">Nobles dressed in their finest moved about the many rooms of Lady Rinalta’s manor, socializing and conducting all manner of clandestine business, as was the norm for events such as these.  Lady Silver had rarely entertained during her long illness, and so care had been taken to invite as many of Lagan’s important personages as was feasible.  Thus the arrival of four more guests, whose names were relatively unknown, was hardly remarked upon.    The four Chosen split up and spent a few minutes socializing and getting a feel for the room before moving to find their targets.  Ayama found the Immaculate monk Ground Ripple conversing with a local merchant, while Kaliel spotted Cathak Ejon trying to disengage herself from a local baron who was obviously quite enamored of either House Cathak or of Ejon herself.  He quickly assessed Ejon’s entourage, and saw that they were nothing more than Realm soldiers that had been pressed into an appearance at a social function.  Their discomfort was almost palpable.    “Make note of Ejon’s people,” Kaliel muttered to Ghost, as he and Zanka were passing by on their way to find the queen.  “A lapse in discipline could prove damaging to their cause.”    Ghost nodded, and then caught up to Zanka as she entered the main hall.  Lady Rinalta was near the center of the room, surrounded by courtiers and attendants.  Ghost made the first move, attempting to make his way toward the queen.  But unlike earlier, when he was able to use his name to get a private audience, here he was in the public eye, and under the scrutiny of those tasked to attend to Lady Rinalta, and so his efforts came to naught.    “I thought you said you were skilled at such matters,” Zanka said as Ghost circled back around.    “I am,” he said, “if it involves convincing someone to leave the party for more personal diversions.  Trying to influence political policy is a less familiar role for me.”    Zanka sighed.  “Allow me, then.”  She began to move toward Lady Rinalta, drawing the gaze of several as she moved.  She had chosen her wardrobe to impart the maximum visual impact, festooned in white and gold with tangerine and scarlet accents, which contrasted with the local style of silver and darker colors.  Combined with her natural radiant visage, she came close to upstaging the queen herself – but not quite; Zanka had been careful about that.    As the Eclipse began to make her way through Lady Rinalta’s courtiers, Cathak Ejon finally made her way into the main hall, accompanied by her entourage and Kaliel, who had been silently observing the Terrestrial envoy.  He had already gathered from her long conversation with the sycophant in the other room that Ejon was here to represent her own House, not the Empire, but that she was confident and secure in her success and her ability to follow through on her offer.  Rather than intervene directly with the Cathak, who was now making her own foray into Lady Rinalta’s entourage, Kaliel decided he would work on the soldiers she had brought with her, hoping to instigate some sort of lapse in discipline that would reflect poorly on the quality of the troops that Ejon was planning on offering.    Zanka, however, who had also noticed Ejon making her move, was bolder in her offensive.  “I have heard that the Cathak intend to offer a Dragon of troops to defend Lagan,” she said, loud enough for her voice to carry to the queen.  “Not exactly what I would call a significant investment on their part, but then again, House Cathak has many interests all throughout Creation.  In fact, one wonders exactly how committed they would be if something more pressing to their House were to arise in the region.  Certainly, the Scarlet Empire is no longer the paragon of unity they once were.”    “But, my lady,” said the courtier to whom Zanka was nominally speaking, “would a formal treaty not obligate House Cathak keep their soldiers here, regardless of their other interests?”    “I suppose that is true,” Zanka replied, “assuming that the commander of these forces has a sense of honor greater than their loyalty to their House.  But I am sure that five hundred foreign troops here will be sufficient to deter the Bull of the North – I presume the Bull will take an interest when the Immaculate Order establishes a Wyld Hunt here in the city.”    The crowds nearby murmured uncomfortably at this thought.  Another courtier, one more seasoned, quickly stepped forward.  “I can tell you have trained in the dramatic arts,” he said to Zanka.  “We are staging a dramatic reading later this evening.  I would be happy to introduce you to the performers – they would welcome the addition of such a strong and beautiful voice as yours.”    Though flattered, Zanka easily brushed aside the attempt to remove her from the scene.  “I am sure that the performance will be delightful to watch,” she replied smoothly.    “Your Highness,” Cathak Ejon interjected, a hint of irritation in her voice.  She had been trying unsuccessfully for some time to gain the attention of the queen, but was distracted by the fact that a group of young minor noblemen and noblewomen had suddenly taken an inordinate interest in her soldiers.  Her soldiers had maintained discipline, though it had taken a few stern glances and sharp words from her.  However, there was also the problem of the large Northerner who had been conversing with her men, apparently making disparaging comments about her command.  She was fighting a war on several fronts, and was forced to split her attention.  She glanced about the room, wondering where Ground Ripple had gone.  He was supposed to be helping her, gods damn him.    At that very moment, Ground Ripple was engaged in an intense conversation with a tall, lovely young woman named Ayama, who professed to be a healer of some kind.  She had approached him as he was on his way to join Cathak Ejon, and had asked him about his opinions on the strange malady that had once afflicted the ruler of this tiny little kingdom.  Her own knowledge of the subject seemed far more detailed that what he had heard before, raising suspicions in him.  His own line of questioning had only deepened his suspicions that this woman was more than she seemed.    “I would be very interested in knowing more about the subject of Lady Rinalta’s illness,” Ground Ripple said.  “You seem an authority on the subject.”    Ayama smiled.  “I only know what I have heard from others.”    “But until this moment I had not known that the disease was magical in nature.  This is not a widely known fact.  Your insight into the nature of this disease is impressive.”“You flatter me,” Ayama said.  “But I feel I must apologize.  Far too much of this conversation has centered upon me, and in my own vanity I have allowed it to continue.  But I would be most interested in hearing of your reasons fro being so far from home.  What brings you to this kingdom?”“I am really more interested in learning more about you,” Ground Ripple said.“If you truly wish to know of me, then all you need to know is that I am a healer at heart.  Everything that moves me, moves me to heal.  So yes, I do know a great deal of the queen’s ailment.  I know a great deal of the ailments of all Creation, all of the things that harm the people and keep them from excelling, and oppress them.  And all I wish is to treat their ailments.  This is the essence of compassion, I believe.”“Your philosophy intrigues me,” the Earth Aspect said.  “Perhaps we could retire to a quiet balcony to discuss this where we may have some privacy?”“But are not such conversations meant for public ears?” Ayama countered, with a smile.  “So that those around us may be inspired and enlightened by our discourse on virtue?”  In truth, she merely did not want to be alone with this massive Terrestrial, and knew he would be hard-pressed to ignore an opportunity to spread his message.    Meanwhile, Zanka and Cathak Ejon had begun a hidden battle of words for the queen’s ear. Ejon had managed to curtail Kaliel and Ghost’s attempts to undermine her authority, and the Cathak soldiers were now almost eunuch-like in their ability to resist temptation.  Zanka had hoped to use a lapse in discipline as an argument against allowing foreign troops into Lagan, but this was not coming to fruition.  And now Ejon was beginning to build up the military history of her House and past victories against overwhelming forces, undermining her previous arguments about the offering of the Cathaks being insufficient.  But then Zanka heard Ghost, speaking to a Guild merchant, remarking upon how cold and aloof the people in Ejon’s entourage seemed.  In an instant, Zanka had her opening.  Summoning Essence, she invested her words with power, such that they could not be ignored.    “It is one thing to speak of glory in battle,” Zanka began.  “But the truth is that war is only a small part of the lives of any soldier.  The rest of the time must be spent in the pursuits of life – food, companionship, pleasures of the mind and body.  But I cannot help but notice as I look around that those who have come representing the Realm have been reluctant – no, resistant – to mingling with the local populace, or even conversing with them.   They remain unmoved, even in light of this kingdom’s best efforts to welcome them and honor them!  Such aloofness smacks heavily, if I may be so bold, of the well-known penchant for arrogance and superiority displayed by many from the Blessed Isle.  It is no secret that the Empire ultimately regards the East as nothing but a renegade province, lacking both wisdom and culture.  I fear that a Dragon of Realm troops would be no different than the dozen that have been brought here.  They would look at everything around them and think only ‘it is better at home’.  Thus they would scorn goods made in Lagan for those imported from the Isle, would refuse to associate with your citizens, whether common or noble-born, and would make every effort to separate themselves from your people.  But how can soldiers truly be expected to defend a land they have no connection with?  Who cannot see the greatness of its people, or its queen?  Lagan deserves soldiers who will treat the defense of its lands as more than a military commission, but will have a true emotional connection with its people, who will put their heart and soul into battle, and who will ultimately represent the interests of Lagan, and not of a foreign host.”    The entire room fell silent, enraptured by Zanka’s words.  Cathak Ejon, with a great effort of will, managed to clear her mind, and stepped forward to address Zanka.  “You are an eloquent speaker,” she said quietly to the Crowned Sun.  “Perhaps you and I could adjourn to somewhere more private?”    Zanka considered the offer of the Fire Aspect Terrestrial, and considered it more seriously than she had expected.  It seemed that Ejon had Essence-charged fangs of her own when it came to social repartee.  Still, she managed to ignore the Cathak’s offer, and continued with her own speech.    “Indeed, who better than the citizens of Lagan to defend their own land?  Has not your own queen, Lady Rinalta, managed to ensure the peace and prosperity of this land through the strength of her word and her will, even in the face of crippling infirmity?  Can her people offer up no less than this?  All that is required is someone who would be willing to shape that will, to form a militia that is of Lagan and for Lagan.  I have come here this evening to offer the queen and her people exactly this.”  She pulled a roll of fine vellum from her bodice and presented it to Lady Rinalta.  “Your Highness, this  is a letter from the ruler of the city of Chrysanthemum, and the leader of the mercenary company known as the Chrysanthemum Knights.  He offers to send a contingent of his Knights to Lynnisbrook for the purpose of training volunteers from your local populace.  His soldiers will also assist in planning the defense of your nation, including the building of garrisons and supply depots throughout your lands.  In addition, if needed my companions and I will seek an audience with the Queen of the Linowan Nation, in order to establish a formal declaration of non-aggression with Lagan.”    Lady Rinalta took the vellum and unrolled it, reading the letter silently.  Of course, the letter had been written only this afternoon, penned by Ghost’s elegant hand, though the contents were exactly as Zanka had described them.  She saw Cathak Ejon desperately try to get Lady Rinalta to move away for a private conversation, but the room was now filled with such a patriotic fervor that her courtiers were not allowing their queen to go anywhere.    Finally, Lady Rinalta rolled up the letter.  “I am satisfied with what I have seen,” she announced loudly.  “The Kingdom of Lagan shall enter into a formal alliance with the city of Chrysanthemum.”    The room erupted in cheers.  Cathak Ejon, scowling, quickly turned and stalked out of the room, followed by her soldiers.  In the next room, Ground Ripple had turned away from Ayama when he heard the announcement.  “What?”    Ghost stepped up to Ayama as soon as the Immaculate’s back was turned.  “Time to go, I believe,” he whispered.    When Ground Ripple turned again, the woman he had been speaking with was gone.  Instead, he saw a furious Cathak Ejon, her eyes blazing. ۞     It was several hours before the four Chosen were allowed to depart Lady Rinalta’s estate.  The representatives of the Realm, of course, had left much earlier, and from the balcony one could see the masts of Cathak Ejon’s ship as it moved out of the harbor.    They emerged into the courtyard, with a few others still milling about, still flush with their victory.  But the smiles disappeared as they heard a disturbance, the sound of hoofbeats coming up the hill, approaching rapidly.    “A rider moving at such speed at this time of night in this district is not a good thing,” Ghost said.    “An attack?” Ayama ventured.  “Perhaps the Cathak or the Immaculate seek vengeance?”    The horse and its rider came into view, galloping through the main gate of the estate before the guards could react.    Zanka gasped, and grasped Kaliel’s arm.    “I see him,” Kaliel growled.  He raised a fist into the air.  “Here!”    The rider turned his steed and rode up to the four Solars.  The horse was flecked with foam, and looked as though it had been ridden nearly to death.  The rider was in no better condition.  All of them could now see that the man bore the heraldry of Kaliel’s own Knights of the Golden Flower.    “My lord,” the rider gasped, “our city is about to be besieged by an army of undead.”</blockquote>

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