Cry Havoc! and let slip the Chief Dog of War...

[Malkaer Andares]

20 Cryxatum in the Second Era of the Regency of Milo L'Evienne

“The ride will not take long; the Gubernatorial Palace is very near the docks”, Malkaer said as they hobbled through the cobblestone streets of Taralon, unaware of the familiarity his co traveler had with the city. Had he known of the Minister’s visit earlier he would surely have prepared himself for it and be armed with this knowledge.

“Those Alyssans are far away from home”, the Thane remarked casually. Being a former officer of Midpoint’s legion Malkaer would recognize the uniform for the rest of his long elven lifetime. “Even though one Alyssan soldier counts for ten others, I hope Your Most Imperial Excellency has brought more.” A little arrogance carefully fostered by the corps esprit of the Empress’ legion slipped through the politician’s mask. “If I may be so bold”, he quickly added.

[Alexis Sapientia]

Treestamp: "Caravans Crossing" @ Aelyria Radio


A ready grin greeted the Thane of Taralon, followed by a shake of the head and a soft chuckle.

"This is true," emphasized he with a nod, albeit with a bit of a smile and a grimace. "Regrettably, their numbers are limited to the sole legion for the meantime, but their standing as the Empress' premier force--the sword point, as it were--is without question."

He turned to give Malkaer a very direct look.

"Why else do you think I have them as my bodyguards? Their loyalty and their prowess are beyond question."

The city of Taralon unfolded in front of his eyes as he took a look outside the carriage window. Strange how it seemed so different now, and yet, so entirely familiar. Ah, well, it was a reflection on him, perhaps, and how he'd grown since then. Whereas once he was but an indolent troublemaker...

...well, some things never changed. Now he was no longer indolent, but yes, he could still be quite the troublemaker.

Letting his mind wander, he let his head fall against the cushioning, and closed his eyes momentarily, implying full trust between the two of them, though it would be very easy for the seasoned warrior (he with the curious handshake) to lean over and snap his dainty little neck...

"How are things here in Taralon, Your Grace?"

[Malkaer Andares]

The former soldier did not approve of the choice to use the Alyssans as bodyguards. Historically a mobile force with a backbone of tactical proficient officers the Alyssan Guard was meant to fight pitched battles on spacious fields where they could outmaneuver the enemy. These talents would be wasted when used as bodyguards. Perhaps it was an indicative mistake of former navy man, but it was not Malkaer’s place to lecture the Minister of War and he just nodded.

The ‘opportunity’ presented by the human scared Malkaer more than if Alexis pulled a knife on him. Whilst murdering a minister would not be beneficial at all for the esh’lahier, it was not good to trust even friends so much let alone a politician. He quickly averted his grey eyes from the young man’s rosy neck to the window.

Even in the summer heat some people took the effort of raising their hats and cheered as the coach passed them by. Certainly they were not doing that for their own Thane. As the Minister questioned him he turned back to Taralon’s famous visitor. The even for an elf awkwardly bony esh’lahier answered. “Good under the circumstances, so they say. There have not been any major disturbances and the overseas trade has not suffered. The mood of the mob is somewhat ambivalent though. While everybody has heard the horror stories of the Narim refugees and thinks that the orcs should be punished for it, if you ask their help to do something about it they’re nowhere. The Taralonians think they can defeat this menace without making any sacrifices. This sentiment has to be changed.” What was particularly damaging was that even some of his city officials shared this opinion.

[Alexis Sapientia]

"This is true," nodded Alexis somberly, ceruleans all of a sudden no longer radiant, the face that was once cheery, now silent, more pensive, and more...reflective. Whereas previously he had smiled and waved outside the window, now as they approached the center of the city itself, he seemed more like an introvert.

He noted the odd discomfort shown by the elf, shrugged it off to mere jitters, but couldn't quite get out of his head the thought that he'd heard about this fellow before, but couldn't quite place where. The name sounded familiar...terribly familiar. Now why in Ioannes' name was that?

"One can't have an omelette without breaking some eggs, after all."

An odd statement, perhaps, given to one who enjoyed his rosyun very well, thank you very much. While true for culinary purposes, when applied to the real world--where real people bled and died--such academic pursuits tended to lose their appeal very easily. While Alexis Sapientia could condole with, and empathize much with the concerns of the people, the Imperial Minister of War could not.

The defense of the Empire lay paramount. That was their collective birthright, and it was his responsbility that this legacy would remain constant until passed on to his children, and his children's children.

After a pause, so did he venture a question.

"Have you met with the regional commander, Sheng Kaldres, as of late?"

[Malkaer Andares]

Having interacted substantially with humans for some time, their sudden mood changes no longer surprised the elf. Instead the politician remained focused on the possible weaknesses that the human might expose to him. Malkaer did agree with the saying that the Minister quoted and nodded. For one the Andares brothers would not be so weak as the Du’Galle bunch that had preceded them.

“No, but I have conversed with Imperatis Cassandra of Taralon legion. She was very helpful outlining the threat and offered her aid to train the new army that will be raised by Sherian and Taralon.” It was at that moment that the carriage came to a stop on the square before the Sherian Grand Council. “We are here my Most Imperial Excellency.” The coach door was opened by a servant and the Thane allowed the superior official to exit before him. Undoubtedly Anvael was waiting to receive the Minister of War.

[Anvael Andares]

Anvael was indeed waiting, but that was not immediately obvious. What Alexis and Malkaer would see first upon arriving at the Sherian Grand Council were a number of the Governor’s guard, wearing their best uniforms, their swords polished until they shone. They would salute as soon as Alexis left the carriage and then move away to allow the Governor to step forward.

Anvael had never met the Minister of War before and only exchanged a single letter with him. He did not know what to expect, did not know how old the man was or how good he was at what he did. What he knew of him was that his name was Alexis Sapientia, that he was married and that he was probably human. That was not a lot, and he was probably in for a surprise.

For Alexis seeing the Governor of Sherian in person would probably be much less of a surprise. He’d already met his brother after all, and all Esh’lahier had in common that they had pale skin and white or silver hair. Anvael was a younger, softer version of his brother, with brilliant violet eyes rather than dark blue ones, but the family resemblance was there nevertheless. He’d stopped wearing the colourful Eunesian clothes somewhere between his meeting with the Regent and coming to Taralon and was dressed in dark colours that were much more befitting of a Governor now.

“Your Most Imperial Excellency.” He really hoped that this was at least a semi-correct way to adress the Imperial Minister of War. He knew that he had adressed the Regent like that, and everybody had been fine with it. “I welcome you to Taralon.”

[Alexis Sapientia]

The offices of the Sherian Grand Council.

How fitting, Alexis thought to himself as he delicately exited from the carriage with a spring in his step, and a sudden intake of breath as he took the sight in, looking from left to right, pausing to give suitable admiration as was necessary. It had been a long time since he was here last, and it seemed quite ominous that the last time he had been here, policy regarding the orcs had been made, by the Governor of the Sherian, the very same person who was now Imperial Vicegerent.

It had been something of a love-hate relationship, one that led to many a skirmish, but was now nothing more but an out-and-out war. Blood had not only been shed, lives had been taken, and a city razed to the ground.

Now there was a good question. What had become of the Sherian Inquisition? What had become of the settlement of Autumnus, under the leadership of the mysterious Monsieur Fyrrialt?

Skin pale as the moons, and with the hair to match, and yet bearing clothes as funereal as the Governor's demeanor seemed. Whose death would this Imperial Excellency be presiding over?

As Imperial Minister of War, it was his duty to ensure that death lay with the enemy, while the lives loyal citizens of the Empire were preserved to the best of his ability.

Ah, yes, indeed, there lay the question.

With a quaint bow of his own, unruly blonde-brown locks spilling over his ceruleans, so did Alexis Sapientia extend his gaze and a black-gloved hand the Governor of the Sherian's way.

"Salvaluti, Your Imperial Excellency, and my many thanks for your receiving me like this." With a nod and a smile directed Malkaer's way, so did he continue his review of the assembled honor guard, continuing the protocol, his youthful features soon turning downcast once out of public view.

"I wish that I were here under different circumstances," obliged he, in whispering, tentative tones, hands clasped behind his back, a step behind the Governor of the Sherian.

"War is coming, regrettably, and the fate of Taralon and the Confederation are indubitably intertwined along with it."

[Malkaer Andares]

Watching every move of the young man Malkaer exited behind him. He looked forward to the meeting between Anvael and the Minister. It would be interesting to see how his younger brother would hold his own in company of a superior. Whilst the Minister of War was obviously not the direct superior of a Governor, the office was clearly higher in rank. In some way or another Anvael had managed the interview with the Regent to become Governor of Sherian. Soon it would be decided whether the young esh’lahier could also bend the equally young Minister of War to his will. The Thane walked a pace behind the two and made mental notes on where Anvael could improve his manner and speech. Meanwhile he smiled amicably whenever Alexis turned to his direction.

[Anvael Andares]

„I’m aware of that“, Anvael remarked curtly as Alexis said that war was coming. He didn’t know what to make of this human that was the Minister of War yet. Alexis was young, about as young as Anvael was in elven terms. He looked more like a boy than somebody who was in charge of the military. In fact he reminded him of the cadets he had trained with in Mystique, one of those boys from rich, noble and important families. He seemed very polite, very intent on following the proper etiquette, but what was behind all that politeness?

“You are talking about the retaking of Narim, are you not?” he asked. “Or do you mean the eventual attack on Ire? I have my own views on that, but let us go inside before we talk more about it. Such matters shouldn’t be discussed on one’s doorstep.”

Oh, the tone of Anvael’s voice was polite enough, very calm and everything, he held himself perfectly straight, stood there in a way that suggested confidence, but the Governor was direct where the Minister of War used fancy words and talked like a real politician.

He gave his guards a sign to open the door so that they could enter the Council building. He cast a glance at his brother as well, wondering why he was so quiet and what Alexis and he had talked about on the way here.

[Alexis Sapientia]

A curt nod was the Imperial Minister's own reply to the Governor's request, Alexis observing the slightly irritated manner in which Anvael Andares had replied. Perhaps the fellow disliked the blatantly obvious pointed out to him, or perhaps all the pressures of what seemed inevitable was the primary cause.

"Both, actually."

And that was that.

Clasping his hands behind his back, so did he follow as was intended, noting the apparent gleam in Malkaer's eyes, but not understanding the reasoning behind the same. He'd known the elder Andares, the late, lamented, paragon of a statesman and diplomat, Moranor.

He had a bad feeling about this, but couldn't quite place the reason why.