Before Parliament, part 1
Tenebrae - Monday, March 10, 2014, 6:48 PM
All of you are amongst those representatives of Alexandria selected to testify before the Parliament of Rune.
This newfangled 'Parliament of the Magi' was made in the years following the demise of the Conclave of Rune, which naturally followed the demise of it's sponsor, the God of Magic known as Animus.
You've been flying for quite some time, actually -- a couple of days, given the distance involved -- and it isn't like you can take the easy route.
You see, the easy route would involve flying over Dragonier.
Jibbom has been an absolute joy to travel with on this journey, as always. His usual game of 'I spy' ran out of steam pretty quickly after 'sky', 'clouds', and 'airship' got used. So since then, he has been passing the time with loud, rambling, impossible tales of his heroism. "... So that was the sixteenth time I'd saved the people of Alexandria with my amazing power. Of course, the queen of the sphinxes demanded that I stay in her realm and marry her daughter, the beautiful princess, in order to cement the peace between our peoples. But I could not, for my heart is with Alexandria."
Duncan in the first few hours introduced himself (gruffly), made sure his Digger was comfortable (it fell asleep almost as soon as they took off) and stomped about the deck and below to investigate practically every corner of the vessel where he was allowed (but didn't find anything remotely interesting). Soon enough he grows bored and begins an aerial survey of the troubled realm. He spends much of the remainder of the flight peering over the railings, always looking in whichever direction Dragonier happens to be.
Bennet has his own opinions of flying over Dragonier. In a heavily armed airship loaded with holy water bombs. The Absolution isn't sure if Holy Water Bombs are an actual thing, but he grumbles about them anyway. Beyond that, he seems to be enjoying the trip well enough, and can even be lured into plesant conversation without too much effort. He does however, make a point not to spend too much time around Jibbom. Crazy might be contagious. "Thought your heart was with that Sandy lady."
Lorien leans at a railing to watch the skies, and then folds his arms about along his chest. On his back is a rifle with matte-black finish and a sheen of silver which flickers along its surface, a crescent moon clearly showing the weapon's meaning. The youth turns his attention towards Jibbom, "Uh huh," he says, then he glances at Duncan and any others, "I'm from Rune, I'm hoping my experience with them before I travelled to Alexandria can be of some use."
As ever during such journeys, Fishbelly has spent most of it tending to the spiritual needs of the sky-sailors. It turns out that a lot of this involves drunken sailor songs, but never question the priest in such matters. As folk talk at the railing, he's just lumbering along the deck with the rolling stride of an experienced ship's mate. "I'm not from anywhere in particular, m'self," he observes, "But I've seen th'horrors down there personally... an' I have words from others to carry to this Parliament. Words they'd do well not t'ignore."
Hassan doesn't know a damn thing about the Dragonier situation and he hasn't been to Rune since the last trade negotiations, but he'll be damned if he'll miss out on a free trip and the potential to squeeze some money out of the deal. Like a nesting bird, the lithe Veyshanti has turned his quarters into a small oasis of proper civilization. Proper civilization in this case meaning a hookah, an entire tea set and several pitchers of above-average-quality-but-not-up-to-snuff-but-what-can-you-do-in-this-land-of-savages wine, and silk sheets, all produced from seemingly nowhere. What time that isn't spent trying to ply sexual favors from salty crew ladies (or properly shaved and oiled crewman. Any port in a storm...) is spent recovering from the physical response to his plying, or playing games of chance with whomever can stomach him long enough.
Cesran has been spending the time reading and playing I spy with Jibbom and Ral-sara, his staff. "I have been here a couple of times both before and after the fall, although this is the first time in a while that I've been there." He looks at Ral-sara, "And you are to behave while we are there. No fighting with other items."
First, you had to travel northwest, to Sendor. Familiar ground for much of the crew and at least some of those going with them. The northeast towards the mountains, towards Khazad Duin and seek passage over their mountains. Doable, but time consuming and your airship is battered by the cold weather of the mountains.
Eventually, you're able to cross over and into the lands of Rune itself.
Rune is a majestic city that seems to've lust some of it's luster with th efall of the COnclave. No longer the center of magical thought that it once was, it's grand towers and white and gold spires do not show it. No doubt magic makes that easy,.
The airship descends towards Rune's airship port which is less filled than one might suspect. /That/ is a definite sign towards it's loss of prominence.
Duncan watches the city as it grows larger. He glances over at Lorien for any sign of reaction to the sight. Then a thought seems to occur to him and he turns to the rest of the party. "Anybody got an idea what we're gonna say down there? Just answer their questions, or...?"
"Alright. So." Jibbom gets to his feet as the airship descends. "Who's been here before? I mean, you have, right?" He gestures in the direction of Cesran and Lorien with a sweep of his arm. "What is the proper protocol for when I accept my award for outstanding achievements in the field of magicalness? Do I just bow, or...?"
Lots of people wind up staring at Jibbom. They look pained.
These are very common looks.
"I know what I am going t'say," Fishbelly says as the ship descends, gazing down upon the city with a steel-eyed look, "There can be no questioning what must be done."
Bennet watches the approach to the grand spires with idle intrest. Sure, it's pretty and all, but the cowboy doesn't put a lot of stock in pretty. Glancing to Duncan, he shrugs. "Their place, reckon they get to talk first. Figure what I say will depend on what they say." The paladin eyes Jibbom a moment. Several moments.
Lorien watches onwards with stoic contemplation. He frowns pensively, after a moment, "It was once more beautiful, a monument to achievement, the lands must recover, or we'll fall to the ways of old," he says. He then glances at Jibbom, "That's if you do not get knifed while bowing," he adds, blase.
Hassan stands at the deck waiting for things to dock, nursing a slight hangover and a cup of tea. Poor thing doesn't even have his khol or jewelry on. "Not the slighest, my khazad friend. I suppose we shall find out shortly." He finishes off his tea in one last gulp and cantrips it clean before tucking it away in an apparently extradimensional pouch on his belt, the same from which he produces his many rings and slides them on. To Jibbom, he shrugs his shoulders. "I've spent a few summers here back before Alexandria was swept away, but it has lost it's luster between know and then." Producing a hand mirror and a bit of khol, he starts to apply while catching sight of Fishbelly in his mirror. Turning his head back, he questions, "What exactly must we do, by the by?"
Fishbelly turns his head, looking over his shoulder at Hassan when he speaks; the oruch's eyes dark and serious, his hands resting firm upon the railing. "We must all stand together against what lurks beyond Dragonier's boarders, lad," he rumbles deep in his throat, then looks back to the city, "An' the greater darkness that rises behind it. Or we're all right fucked."
Cesran stretches out as he stands up and he looks over at Jibbom, "I'm afraid that will have to wait for another time Steel. We are here for something else." He says as his staff looks around, "Hmm it's certainly not like you described it Cesran." The wizard shrugs, "Things change. Let's see what's going on." He says as he looks around.
"Do not worry." Jibbom assures Fishbelly. "I have a plan for that." Uh-oh. "I shall present it to the parliament and all will be amazed!"
Some of the crew now looks terrified as Jibbom declares that. Even they have been around long enough to know that can't possibly be good.
You're not the only representatives of ALexandria aboard the ship, though. There's a diplomat from the Council of Alexandria itself.
His name is Caldor Methis and he sits on the Council proper.
Caldor emerges onto the deck as Rune comes itto view, backed by a few guardsmen. Rune is not exactly known for being a place without treachery these days. Or any days. Academics can be a truly cut throat business.
The airship lands at the port, succesfully, and Caldor turns to all of you. Even Jibbom.
"We'll be escorted to the Council Chambers. I'll speak an introduction, and then each of you will be called to testify." He turns towards Hassan and adds, "And I trust you'll be able to pass word back to a few people in Tashraan, eh?"
Fishbelly retrieves a heavy clay jug from his belt, raising it up in an easy salute towards Caldor. "An' I'll have ships carry word t'every corner from th'docks, lad," he swears, "I assure you. Let's go, then, eh? No point in lollygaggin' about."
Jibbom gives Caldor an overly friendly grin. "Hey, Caldor. What's shakin'? Ready for some parliamentary testimony party time?" It's entirely possible that Jibbom just doesn't know what a parliament is.
Lorien slowly shakes his head, "We will have and be careful," he says, as he adjusts the strap to his Elunan-styled weapon, then he gives a nod towards Caldor, "Of course," he adds, throwing a curious salute. He glances at Jibbom, "Can... Can we offer him up as a sacrifice to Parliament?" he asks.
Hassan makes a dismissive gesture with his free hand while he finishes his final make up regimen. "Tsk, always something evil lurking in some old ruin or another, that's what you adventuring sorts are for." A quick hit of snuff, the mahogany box offered most generously to those around him before it's snapped shut and put away with all his other accessories and accoutrements. His tone takes on a bit more...professionalism, or at least loses the carefree disinterested airs once he comes into contact with the money. "But of course. I will be at the ear of Teshran like a hummingbird on a morning flower, Councilman Methis." He follows it up with a brief bow, stuffing his hands into the sleeves of his robes.
Bennet shakes his head to Lorien. "Living sacrifice is bad busniess. And anyway, whole point is a -worthy- sacrifice. Anything less is insulting."
Duncan nods grimly to Caldor. "Best get this over with, then." He scowls over the skyline of the city. "Shouldn't have to even come here - don't they know that so long as Heth an' his brood're around, nobody's safe?"
"Thank you," says CAldor to Hassan, nodding to Fishbelly. "This is a diplomatic offensive, so I expect each of you to weigh your words correspondingly." A nod to Fishbelly, then he addresses Duncan.
"They know. Everyone knows. But everyone has a responsibility to their own people. No one wants to expend all their energy on solving the problem, and then be conquered by Dran. Rune nearly was, if not for Dragonier they may well have been. Stormgarrd and Myrrdion were at war not long ago either, and that's not even discussing. Charn and.. BLudgun." Distaste is in his expression. It's not like he's ever gotten over the assassionaton of Councilwoman Lunatec, after all.
"The point is that it requires a combined effort or else we'll make no progress at all. The reports of what have been seen in Dragonier have left us no choice." Nor has the population of restless Dragonieri refugees.
"We will start," he explains, "with negotiating with each nation to set up appropriate containment measures to prevent the growth of the problem with the wights. Then we'll see if we can't begin to figure out what Heth's weaknesses are. If the armies of Dragonier /and/ their Dragon Knights could not conquer him, we can not afford to launch an attack on him without understanding /why/ that didn't work. So, containment and research... /then/ we strike. But first, we need everyone to understand the threat and agree to the strategy. If there's even /one/ nation on the border not fully on board, we may fail and then we may well be damned." He pinches the bridge of his nose, then says, "Now, let's go." And with that, he disembarks from the airship, walking down the gangplank to where a number of men in robes appear to be waiting.
"Greetings," says one out front.
"I am Master Evoker Sheldril Stevlop and I am pleased to meet you. I am to be youur escort to the Parliament of the Magi."
Cesran nods politely to Caldor, "Sounds like a plan to me. After you Councillor." He says as he waits for Caldor and he nods politely to the Master Evoker, "Greetings Master Evoker. We are honored."
"Cool." Jibbom nonchalantly greets the Master Evoker. "I am Steel Von Ironblood, Bane of the Night, Alexandrian Hero. These are my associates."
Lorien nods, "Lorien," he greets, and then he lifts up a hand to greet properly.
Fishbelly brings the jug of ale up in a loose sort of salute, inclining his bearded head at the same time. "I am Brother Fishbelly," he declares, "Toad of Rada." Apparently he has made up a new echelon in the Radan clergy. It's not like anyone's going to argue with him. He can turn into a giant toad. "I bring sacred words of warning for your Parliament. Thank y'for agreeing t'listen to us."
"Bennet Susson, Absolution of the Dread Lady. I ain't with him." The paladin motions to Jibbom.
Hassan's eyelid twitches just a tiny bit at the mention of a Master Evoker. Evocation is so gauche and pedestrian. But one of the nice things about being all extra smart and trained in the magical arts is to say such a thing to a Master Evoker's face. At least not without alot of abjurations readied. In any case, Caldor nods to Caldor as he listens. "A pleasure, Master Stevlop. Journeyman Alchemist and Transmuter Hassan Trevani. I am here to...mediate on behalf of the Mercantile interests and offer necessary assistance." This time a more regal and full bow is in order, even if he's a doddering old fireball slinger.
He listens to each introduction in turn, though Jibbom's gets an odd look. Rune hasn't heard of Steel Von Ironblood, Bane of the Night!
When Fishbelly speaks, he mouths 'toad of Rada?' and he's not the only one, but he nods. "Well met... Toad of Rada," he seems a bit puzzled, but then he turns towards Bennet, "Always a pleasure to meet a follower of the Grey Lady." ANd then to Hassan, a smile. When he adds Transmuter, he just sort of eyes him. No doubt, he's thinking similr things to Hassan. Just inversed. he's smiling, though. "A pleasure, I m sure." Then to Lorien, a nod as well.
He gestures towards what seems to be a carriage, though there are no horses attached to it. "Please, board the carriage. It will fit all of you comfortably, I assure you." Even if it doesn't look like it. Perhaps it's bigger on the inside?
The confusion is ignored. Fishbelly merely takes a hearty swig of ale, and then he steps carefully up into the carriage, ducking his head so he doesn't smash it on the upper edge of the entrance.
Bennet wholely expects a demonstration of powerful magics. This is Rune, after all. So if the stuffy guy says he'll fit, the Absolution expects he'll fit. For all he knows, may step into the carriage, only to find himself inside the Grand Hall already.
Lorien makes his way towards the carriage, and then enters it, as he adjusts the cloak about his form, and pats at it.
Hassan hikes up a robe and follows after Fishbelly to step inside, holding a perfumed sleeve to his mouth to alleviate the smell, the other held up to cantrip the Yrch's adventurer smells away before thinking better of it. Crazy swamp cultist orcs probably are attached to their stank. So suffer in silence the transmuter shall.
A place where no one has heard of Steel Von Ironblood? This will change quickly. Jibbom, thinking nothing of the carriage's seeming lack of size, waddles up into it. "And so we shall!"
Cesran introduces himself as well, "Cesran, Evoker of the 6th circle and my staff Ral-sara." The dragon's head on the staff gives a smile, "Charmed." She says as Cesran head sin last to the carriage.
And, indeed, the carriage /is/ bigger on the inside. Enough to seat all of you comfortably.
The carriage then then stands up. Yes. Stands. It's a carriage on /legs/. And it begins to walk towards the city center. You are passing by numerous buildings at a pretty good clip on your way towards the grand tower of the Parliamnt of Magi at the center of Rune.
"Wizards and their towers," mutters Caldor, amused. You're making good time, though, and it isn't long before the carriage comes to a halt in front of the tower, lowering itself back to the ground.
People are st reaming into and out of it. Parliament is a busy place. You can hear yelling from inside and the occasional 'FWOOSH' sound.
"It's poor symbolism," Fishbelly mutters lowly in agreement with Caldor, "They can't hide in them forever." As they're let out, he clambers out of the carriage as well, looking around at the mystical architecture and taking another swig from his jug.
Lorien watches all the sights and nods slightly, "Towers are nice, they have a curious architecture to them," he adds, as he moves away from the carriage, and then relaxes, scrtatching his chin.
Bennet perks an ear, and frowns mildly. "...do they debate with fireballs? If so, ain't sure iffen is a sign to head home, or break out some thunder..." Not that wizards are likely to be too impressed with a mere rifle.
"Oh, I dunno. Towers could make a good place for a party." Jibbom says with a nonchalant shrug as he exits the carriage, unphased by the odd mode of transportation. "What've they got here in Rune, party-wise? Wine? Exotic smokeables? Dancing elves?"
"Mushrooms from the Plane of Earth." Bennet deadpans.
"Oh no." Jibbom frowns at Bennet. "I've had their cuisine. It is /terrible/."
"WEll, the Chamber of Parliament has an anti-magic shell in place. Mostly to prevent anyone from trying to fireball Parliament. Believe me, strong is the temptation sometimes." He seems unhappy with the notion of an anti magic shell in Parliament for just that reason. He disembarks as well and pushes through the front door of the building, then nods towards the center of the room, wwhere a grand, glowing circle stands. "ALl of you, stand there."
The tower has an 'open' design and there is a hole in the ceiling above you over the glowing circle.
"It will carry us to top of the tower where Parliament sis."
"Hrn," Fishbelly grunts, regarding the circle for a moment, "Fancy." Then he steps into it.
Cesran nods, "Yes I'd rather skip the banquet of the planes although I hear the celestial plane makes some great angel food cake." He miles as he heads towards the center of the room and he nods, "Thank you."
Lorien adjusts the strap of his rifle, and then walks onwards. He stands at the glowing circle in the center of the room, and then he gives a dramatic pose, a hand slowly lifting to the air, "As they entered the mystic circle, the party of heroes did begin their greatest journey to save all, through strife and politic."
Bennet rolls his eyes, but steps into the circle, frowning mildly. Anti-magic naturally does bad things to magic items, and the Absolution puts a lot of weight into the care of his weapon.
The staff blinks, "Anti-magic...you can't take me in there Cesran. Anti-magic is bad news for me. I'll be worse then powerless, it will be like I'm dead. You can't take me in there."
Jibbom stands on the glowy circle, giving Lorien a little grin. "Ooh, narration. My adventures need more of that."
Should Cesran wish it, he can stash his staff on the bottom floor with one of the attendants. It isn't like there' not a lot of them.
It isn't exactly teleportation.
Rather, once eeryone is in the circle and a command word is spoken by the councilor, you begin to float upwards as if you were weightless. It's sort of... uncomfortawble in the belly in some ways.
Evetually, you hover all the way up through the tower (and witness all MANNER of business going on throughout every floor of this massive strucutre) as you pass by each of them at a rapid pace.
You finally reach the top of the tower, which is /far/ bigger than it ought to be.
All around you are rows and rows of seating which are /packed/ with wizards. /Packed/. THey are divided, it would appear, by School. One can know this since eldritch symbols for /each/ school are hanging from tapestries over that section of the seats. It should be noted that necromancy does not have a seat on Parliament. Another legacy of the rules of the former Conclave of Rune.
Three robed and hooded figures hover at the front of the room, overseeing all of it. These must be Parliament's ajudicators. Their identities are clearly concealed by their robes.
They appear to be in the middle of a very large argument as you arrive.
"...and why shouldn't we tax them? We need revenue! Without the Colleges of Magic paying their dues, there's been a great difficulty in paying for the project! And they're the ones who benefit most!"
"And you DON'T benefit your scurrilous, slandering urine soaked BASTARD? You'd have the Transmuters pay for the Alchemical lab when it is available to ALL?"
"OF COURSE! It was your propisition. Consider it a sacrifice for Rune. Why don't you, oh, GO CONJURE SOME GOLD, nimwit?"
Thyrson leans on his staff as he makes sure he doesn't step on the smalls, even accidentally. Always walking with a little stoop, so undignified. Still, he follows along, making... ooooooh.
Bennet frowns mildly at the various schools, but keeps quiet. Ain't his place, nor his time to speak yet.
"Behold," Fishbelly murmurs in low tones meant to only carry to his fellows, "A fishmonger's market. Or perhaps th'Parliament of Rune. It's difficult t'tell th'difference, I must admit."
Lorien watches on with curiousity as they raise above. He watches all the goings on, and then he adjusts his cloak about his form when they reach where they wish and be. He waits for further instruction.
"Aww. The party's already started." Jibbom says with a disappointed frown. "And we've missed the fun shouting bit and gone straight to the angry shouting."
Thyrson subvocalizes, "Wizards," then puts on his best charming smile and looks around at the various factions.
Cesran has to stash his staff at the bottom and he reassures her that he'll be able to summon her at any time. He heads in with the others and he looks around. "It seems the debate is in full swing."
"The matter of taxation for the Alchemist LAb willbe tabled. The testimony on the matter of Dragonier will begin. Our witnesses are present."
The voice eminated fromn the robed figure, but it seems to fill the entire room. That's probably how they make themselves heard over all the shouting., because there /was/ an awful lot of shouting.
"Representing Alexandria are Councilman Caldor Methis and his witnesses, who will name themselves before the Parliament when it is their turn to speak. Councilman?"
The Councilman steps forward and says, "I have brought with me those who've seen into the heart of Dragonier and have word of the horrors within it. I have brought with me a great deal of wisdom."
"Our strategy, from which we'd like Rune to contribute. We intend to encircle and contain the threat. This will require all of us to give resources to it. Bludgun is building a wall on its northern border. Rune could provide assistance and protect itself."
"Oh, sure. We can build a wall. We've got plenty of money floating around. And it isn't like Dran isn't knocking on our borders all the time."
"Yes, well. WE'd need to talk to Dran too and --,"
"Yes. TALK to the muscle bound warmongers. That will go well. Last time they tried to talk, it was to demand our immediate surrender. Lucky for us a Dragon Knight had had enough."
"If you'd let me fini-,"
"Let him talk!" "We've heard this nonsense before!"
Caldor is an effective speaker, but Parliament is simply out of control.
Bennet nudges Jibbom. If anything will send them into stunned silence long enough for Caldor to make his case...
Brother Fishbelly stands, and he listens. And he listens. And his scowl deepens by the word until finally Caldor's words are being entirely drowned out by the arguments and cross-chatter of the schools, before finally he's had enough. A deep breath is gathered into the orc's lungs, and with the sort of roar that's normally only heard from the throat of a berserker green-skin charging an enemy clan he bellows out-- "FOR THE SAKE OF FALLEN ANIMUS AND ALL THE GODS, STOP PRATTLING LIKE SQUABBLING CHILDREN FOR FIVE BLOODY MINUTES AND USE THE EARS YOUR MOTHERS GAVE YOU!"
It's probably best there's an anti-magic field right now.
Jibbom's time has come. He dashes forward, wings spread wide, and takes to the air, buzzing around and shouting to try to be heard over the squabble. "Good parliamentarians, enough! It is I, Steel Von Ironblood, Bane of the Night! I have come to solve all of your terrible problems!"
Lorien quirks up a brow, and then folds his arms, smirking a bit. He slowly shakes his head, "Things hardly have even changed," he says, and then glances at Fishbelly, and then thumbs at him, and raising his voice, "You know you are disrespectful of exactly what you all used to stand before, I'd be quiet and listen!" he exclaims. Then he glances at Jibbom, "Whatever," he adds, and rolls his shoulders, "I ain't even gonna ask about him anymore."
Bennet glances from Fishbelly to jibbom and back, sighing. One would have been good. Both, likely not so much. Ah well.
Thyrson waits, arms folded on his chest, cradling his staff. He doesn't add to the din. There's enough to that, right?
GAME: Fishbelly rolls Diplomacy: (7)+7: 14
GAME: Lorien rolls diplomacy - 1: (12)+4+- 1: 17
GAME: Bennet rolls diplomacy: (3)+9: 12
Cesran goes silent as he lets the others speak. He'll wait for his turn to come. He looks calm and tries to project a sense of quiet wisdom.
GAME: Jibbom rolls diplomacy: (10)+7: 17
GAME: Duncan rolls diplomacy: (17)+0: 17
GAME: Thyrson rolls diplomacy: (9)+8: 17
Bennet shrugs, steps foreward, and says his piece briefly. "Other nations -will- act in Dragonier. Do you want Rune to lead the way, or lag behind?"
Thyrson's head snaps around, and hisses to Bennet: "Look around and listen, what do /you/ think the answer is?"
The bellowing and yelling, combned with a firm 'SILENCE' from three ajudcicators floating above does resettle Parliament. A little.
Caldor looks grateful, then he says, "I'm aware you have your national interess at hear. Rune may have endured trying times before and come out stronger, much as our land has. Together, we can protect ourselves from the danger that Dragonier represents and leave none weakened so as to be prey for aggressors. Alexandria, Rune, Myrrdion... and perhaps even the Dran can be channeled into fighting the wights instead of /Rune/, eh? We have a chance here to build an alliance of nations to contain this threat on these grounds."
"For years, they've not moved! Why the sudden fear now?"
"I will let my witnesses testify to that." He turns toward the others, then, and nods to, gods help us all, Jibbom first. GEt that out of the way, it seems.
"Please state your name for the record, and swear that you will speak the truth to this comission," says one a robed figure from above to Jibbom.
Fishbelly shakes his shaven head slowly, stepping back to make room for... Jibbom... and bringing the jug up once more to take a hearty swallow of its contents. Perhaps he's going to need it.
Lorien glances towards Fishbelly, and his jug. He looks up, and seems to wish he brought something of his own, then chuckles, watching the proceedings.
Oh good. Jibbom lands and raises his hand, looking in the direction of the robed figure. "I am Jibbom Taribree, known to the good peoples of Alexandria as Steel Von Ironblood, Bane of the Night. Alexandrian Hero. Dragonslayer. Former King. Outdrinker of Efreetis. Conquerer of the Elemental Plane of Earth. Savior of the Quarry Nymphs. Vanquisher of..." This goes on for a while. "I swear on the Coyote's name that I will tell the truth." One might wonder whether that inspires more or less confidence in the testimony he is about to deliver.
Bennet rubs the bridge of his nose. His vote goes to 'less confidence'.
"You may speak, Jibbom Taribree," says the voice.
The outbirsts from the group have definitely settled Parliament down for the moment.
Jibbom clears his throat and paces dramatically. "Esteemed parliamentarians. I have seen the threat in Dragonier firsthand. Wave after wave of the undead. I saw them and I turned to my esteemed associate, and I said 'that's a lot of undead!' And he said 'Wight!' and I said 'I know I'm right, I can see them!' and then he said 'no, wights!' It went on like that for a while. Anyways, the point of the story is I blew up most of them with my amazing magical powers!" He stretches his wings.
"Unfortunately, there are too many to be dealt with by explosions alone. It is an army of monsters. I am forced to conclude that the rumors are true. Such a force could only be created and controlled by a being of incredibly great evil power. Heth."
He raises a finger in the air. "But never fear, esteemed parliamentarians! I, Steel Von Ironblood, the Bane of the Night, have devised a foolproof plan to stop this menace." He reaches into his robe and retrieves... what looks like a crude paper mache model of a dragon. "I propose we make one of these in full scale. An unflattering model of Heth himself. We can animate it with your fancy magics and make it say 'rwar! I'm Heth! I am stinky! I smell my own farts!' Maybe we can magic up some stink lines or something."
Jibbom sets the model down, then retrieves a rock from his sleeve and holds it out over the model. "Heth, insulted by this, will come to destroy the model. Only unbeknownst to Heth... the model is under a giant invisible rock! Heth comes in and..." He drops the stone, which slightly crumples the model. "... Down comes the rock! And the day is saved, thanks to Steel Von Ironblood, Bane of the Night!" He poses dramatically, grinning wide.
Bennet blinks, and has a small coughing fit. He's not giggeling. No, just... something caught in his throat.
Thyrson practices looking inscrutable. Honest.
GAME: Thyrson rolls bluff: (9)+11: 20
Parliament is deadly silent for a moment.
Then there is a titter.
Then there is a snicker.
Then there is outright laughter.
Thyrson is Very Serious, and takes Jibs Very Seriously for a moment or ten, before the laughter comes.
Lorien listens. Blank. Face. Then he snorts and giggles, laughing out loud, "We're so screwed!"
As the speech begins, Fishbelly crooks a single bushy brow upwards, looking mildly impressed.
It doesn't last long.
And then he sighs, heavily, into his palm.
Caldor has his face bured in his hands for a moment, then he waves at Fishbelly, as if to say 'go next'.
"I await the wise decision and generous funding of the esteemed parliamentarians." Jibbom concludes. He beams with pride and delight at the reception his speech received. He finally steps back so that Fishbelly may take his place.
As the Bane of the Night steps aside, Fishbelly steps heavily forwards, bringing up his jug in a salute towards the gathered of the Parliament. "I am Brother Fishbelly," he calls out, "Toad of Rada. I would speak, an' I swear by th'Enveloper an' by th'memory of th'All Seeing Eye to speak naught but truth this day. Even if truth I know you'll not wish to hear."
"You may speak, Brother... Fishbelly." It may be one of the stranger names ever uttered in PArliament.
At the pause before his name, Fishbelly's lips curl in a brief smirk, revealing more of his tusks. Then he brings the clay jug to his lips, tilting it back to take a hearty swig, lowering it again and wiping mouth and beard with the back of his wrist and hand.
"I don't claim th'credentials of some great hero, like our previous witness. Nor am I some noble of grand lineage, or leader of a great people," he begins, his voice deep and rolling, "Th'humble toad lives in Rada's waters, yet comes forth th'bring his song to th'folk of th'land. So I have come t'you today."
"I have walked in th'Eidolon Court. I have heard th'words of th'Gods-- for th'Hymn was briefly silenced for these words. /Beware th'children of th'Firstborn. They rise/. A warning cast from th'very thrones of th'heavens an' th'hells," he states, gaze sweeping the crowd, "I have consulted Dame Anise of th'Dragon Knights, and th'beautiful silver that she serves. They have told me that they believe this threat may well come from th'rotted heart of Dragonier. That it may be a warning against some terrible plot of th'Dead Wyrm. Of Heth."
"I have walked upon th'walls of th'Bludgunni, brothers and sisters," he says loudly, "An' I have seen th'armies of dead crash upon it. Th'might of giants keeps that border free, but if it falls? A nation more of dead shall stand against us all. I have walked groves that Heth's corruption has spread to, seen rotted trees walk an' dead killing all that is green an' grows."
"If we do not stand together, we all will die. One by one, our nations will fall. We must come together an' root out this blight before it spreads further!" He thrusts one hand out, sweeping it across the gathered, "You must put away your politics an' petty disagreements, listen to th'words that we bring you, an' choose t'join with us all."
"Or you may ignore th'words of th'Gods. Of one of th'last free dragons of Dragonier. You may turn to in-fighting an' selfish thoughts... we cannot stop you. But remember these words, when Heth's shadow falls across you."
He turns, then, walking back to his place without further word.
Lorien slow claps. Because he likes that.
"And then down comes the rock! Right?" Jibbom asks with a hopeful gleam in his eye.
"Are there questions for... Fishbelly?"
"I've a question. You, sir, claim to've seen thes things with your own eyes? And you speak of a warning of the Gods? The Firstborn? HAve you learned anything about what these firtborn are supposed to be?" He leans forward, critically inspecting Fishbelly.
"I have," says the oruch, turning back towards the gathering, "I have stood on those walls m'self an' seen it. I have walked those groves, an' battled th'dead there. As for th'Firstborn... th'wise silver believes that if any knowledge of them exists, it would lie within th'bounds of blighted Dragonier." He smiles broadly at the skeptical man, "I seem t'recall mention mere minutes ago of how Dran would've rampaged over your borders if not for th'Knights. I would not repay such friendship by doubting their wisdom."
THere's a harsh murmur throughout Parliament.
More murmurring follows.
"Thank you, Brother FIshbelly. YOu may sit down."
Caldor gestures to Duncan.
"PLEASE NAME YOURELF BEFORE PARLIAMENT."
Fishbelly takes another swig of ale, before sprawling himself back in his seat to listen to the next speakers.
Duncan stomps up to take the place of Fisbhelly. "I'm Duncan Stonesmasher of the Sky Curtain Mountains. And I too have seen my share of Dragonier. I have the scars and the dark dreams to prove it. I served out of Feld Mor for years."
Duncan points a stubby finger in Jibbom's direction. "'Steel von Ironblade' has the truth of it. Heth DOES have armies of monsters. They ARE too many to be dealt with by magic alone." He pauses and sweeps his glare across the members of the Parliament, a glare that translates to a 'that's right I said it' look of challenge. Then he seems to relax. He reaches down and unclips a steel clasp from his belt, shaped like a rose and carrying the hint of some old and powerful spell held at the ready. "Aye, it takes more than magic to protect a nation, and a people."
Duncan lets the mark of his order drop into his palm and lowers his hand. Then he raises the other hand, this one clenched into a fist. "It takes more than muscle, too. That's where my kind went wrong, you see. When I served at Feld Mor, we had no shortage of strong arms and brave hearts. And yet every time I ventured out beyond the walls, I saw comrades pulled down by the endless hands of the undead."
Duncan says, "Ask anyone who's ever crawled through a dungeon, anybody who's gone hunting trolls or chasing evils spirits out of a haunted house. Ask anyone who's joined a party and quested - they know. It takes magic AND might. " He opens his hand and then places the clasp into his palm. Then he concentrates briefly, summoning his Digger to his side in a brief flare of mystic power. "And it takes allies."
Duncan puts a hand on the Digger's neck, not so much a pat given to a pet as a comraderely gesture between equals. "Magic, and strength, and allies. That's what it will take to defeat Heth. And that's why we're here." He turns and looks over the Parliament. "Lend us your magic, and we will add it to our strength. And in the process both our nations gain allies. Until Heth is dealt with, and then after. Who can say for how long? My people do not forget." Duncan turns and leads his Digger back to his place among the rest of the Alexandrian delegation.
"Thank you, Duncan. You may sit. Are there any quuestions for Duncan?"
"No."
Caldor gestures for Bennet. His turn, it seems.
"Speak your name before Parliament," and so it goes.
Bennet steps foreward, offering his introduction again. "Bennet Susson, Absolution for the Lady, and Hunter of the Dead." The paladin smiles, taking a lesson from Mourner Kerbasy... but it comes off less 'Blessed Be the Kittens', and more 'Hold Still, It's Right Behind You'.
"You may speak, Hunter of the Dead. Tell us your tale."
And with that, all the eyes of Parliament are now on Bennet.
Bennet looks at the Parliament, to the direction the earlier question. "'Why now?' That big moldy lizard ain't been sitting still. He's been gathering up his own power. Ain't a question of if there'll be a war, just when and where. When, before he's ready, and after we are, iffen can manage it. But 'where' is the important bit. Undead have corrupted one land already. That legacy's gonna last, even if all goes well. I got no desire to see a second land die. Reckon you don't either. Gonna take the fight to him. End it before he spreads. Lotta folks gonna fight. Lot gonna die. We all stand together, ain't gonna be so many. Stand apart, Mourners gonna be busy." The cowboy sighs, and steps back. "Got enough work already."
"Have you seen it yourself, then?" asks one of the members of Parliament of Bennet.
Bennet shakes his head. "Been a lot of places. Dragonier ain't one, yet. Worked with some who have. Some came back okay. Some, dug their graves myself. Ain't looking to dig no more."
"Understood. You may step down, sir."
And with that, Bennet is dismised. Now attetion swings to Thyrson.
His turn, it seems.
"Speak, sir, and state your name for the record..." And on again.
Thyrson stands up straight: "Loric Thyrson." He looks around at the faces. "Esteemed members of Parliament, Your Honours, I can only echo what has been said before -- absent, perhaps, the invisible rock. I have, myself, seen the wights and the crawling corruption that is Heth's influence on Dragonier. I have seen, myself, ancient treants turned against nature," and turned them into bonfires, "though I know that it is also preventable. With enough effort and coordinated action, Dragonier's undead can be thrown back -- but make no mistake, it will take coordination. I have seen the effectiveness of that before -- I am a veteran of Fort Getty and Solmnus, and know what it took to throw back evil once." He takes a breath. "I also would remind the audience that we are not the only ones who are reaching out now. There was a skeletal dragon and rider in Bludgun, assisting Kinnevack's forces. Heth may be destructive, but only fools would consider him mindlessly so. We must be mindful and cunning."
"Whatever happened to that dragon? I rmeember hearing about that..." There is murmuring.
"Thank you, Lorric Thyrson. You may be seated."
And with that, Lorien is called to testify as well, next.
Thyrson nods, and sits down, carefully so as not to crush the chair beneath him.
Lorien stands, and makes his way forward to address Parliament. He heaves a thoughtful sigh, and then pats at the strap to his weapon, "By Eluna, I will affirm that all I say is true and right before her," he says. The youth smiles a genuine, and polite manner, as he adds, "I am Lorien, an Artificer, and also born and raised within this great nation of Rune, I have since leaving on my journeys for knowledge and ventures to assist with the pursuits of proper use of Magic, come by many things, on these travels through waters and air, I have seen from aways the corruption, and heard many tell of it, of what grows within Dragonier, I wouldn't see a land deteriorated grow worse and spread, as I hope we can overcome and not make past mistakes, and instead work together, I'm not like the others, I don't even have much to speak of by ways of titles besides my humble research and learnings, but I do believe I am right with what I speak, and beseech only that you consider." He's the picture of calm, and kind, as he steps away.
"Thank you for your testimony, Son of Rune. You words will be entered into record," as all others are, of course.
All eyes now fall on Cesran as he's given the go ahead to speak as well.
Cesran has waited for the others to say there peace and he makes his way up to stand before the others. He takes a deep breath, "Greetings my fellow wizards, I am Cesran, an evoker of the 6th circle hailing from the Jade Islands originally and more recently from the city of Alexandria. Like many of us I choose the life of an adventurer to further my studies into the arcane, to see the spells that I worked out in theory come to brilliant life when protecting and defending. Now I have been asked to come stand before you and tell you of the threat that we face. I was there in the forest when a horde of wights lead by wight lords were defending the corrupt heart of the Forest and the druids that had fallen under its sway. I did not fight alone though. We face a similar threat in Dragonier and we cannot face it alone!" He says as his voice rises to a crescendo. "We must find allies from those around us. We cannot defeat these threats from our lofty towers. We cannot spend our time researching a spell to make this all go away. We must lend our magic, our intelligence, our strength of mind and will to those who's strengths lay in arms and in faith. The Dran have that strength of arms, we must convince them that our strength of mind is just as valuable. If we do not stand together, then we will all die alone and then we will all rise again under Heth."
GAME: Cesran rolls diplomacy: (20)+0: 20
"Thank you, Magus. Please, be seated." And with that, Cesran's last testimony is delivered and then the Ajudicator speaks.
"We will conduct an initial vote on the amtter of agreeting to establishing an official council to meet and negotiate with Alexandria and other nation states on this matter. This vote will be binding and memebership of the council will be determined by the usual voting procedures."
Roll call begins and votes by each house then follow. Bit by bit, it looks good for your side. Seems like they're getting a majority fairly quickly.
As the roll is called, Fishbelly finishes off his jug of ale; leaning forward, one arm resting on his knees, his dark eyes intent as he watches the magi voting.
Thyrson listens intently as well, restlessly jiggling his staff.
Lorien relaxes, folding his arms, and then furrows his brows. It's moving nicely. That's unusual. And that means things. Anyways, he tries and relax.
Cesran nods a little bit and when the evokers are called he gives his vote as is his right. He seems rather relaxed.
Bennet takes a moment to process the big words. "They're gonna vote if they should pick some people to talk about actually doing something?"
"Sounds productive!" Jibbom replies to Bennet with an enthusiastic grin.
FInally, the vote wins a clear majority.
Then it finally gets down to the one who spoke to Fishbelly earlier. He's in the Illusionist section.
"I protest that this vote has gone on along enough. As has his charade. There is nothing any of us can do. We're all going to die. Ah," he says.
"I misspoke. /You/ are all going to die."
THis is an anti-magic zone. This shouldn't be possible...
But his form begins to change, shift. CHairs get thrown in every directrion as scales cross his visage, expanding and growing until it fills a whole row of parliamet. The dragon, his scales black as night but glowing a isckly green color roars and says, "THERE IS AN END TO EVERYTHING. EVEN YOUR GODS."