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[Deep Waters]

Kylila seethes inwardly at the Comte's patronizing tone and wording, though the only outward sign of her quickly-building outrage is her tightening grip on the hilt of her shamshir and a slight narrowing of her eyes on an otherwise-calm stoic face. While she had endured many years in lands where men were allowed to speak to women as if they were their betters, the former knightess never grew accustomed to it. Not for the last time, she wishes she was back in her homeland, where a man who spoke in such a way to a woman, especially an Ampyrian knightess, would be clapped in irons before he could blink twice. Kylila imagines the man in the collar and chains of the impudent Ampyrian male and feels vindicated for a brief moment, but the satisfaction is quickly replaced by shame.

'It is not befitting for an honorable knightess to take pleasure in imagining the humiliation of another,' she admonishes herself, accidentally slipping into her native Ampyrian as she stands to follow her liege. Still, she can't help giving the Comte a dark stare as she walks after Rust, muttering darkly in Ampyrian, "Northerners."

[Iituem]

In a loose disguise, Fust gathers rumours in the town about events, newcomers and opportunities.

[6+1] Drink and small favours flow freely and in light of the evening festivities many people are willing to loosen their tongues.  You learn a very great deal about current events.

• A clumsy knight and an exotic mercenary have been looking for work.
• A rich noble has been quietly recruiting for a raiding party to the north.
• A new brothel (the Drifting Chemise) has been established in town, the owner making enquiries as to higher class slaves.
• A foreign spy has been asking questions about the nobility in town.

Unfortunately your investigations have not gone unnoticed.  Unbeknownst to you, Kylila Dagher has heard of or noticed your excessive curiosity and are aware that a man calling himself Valsche Namme is asking all sorts of questions - including questions about herself and her dealings.

The bravos by the door shifted into a subtle but definite attack stance as there came an unexpected knock on the oak.  The door was opened from outside and the motley-clothed form of the Court Fool gave an extravagant (though not mocking) bow.  Though he did not bother to rhyme, Fust's speech still maintained that slight cadence from the night before.

"Forgive me, my liege and most noble lords,
But it is a stern and holy duty that the Fool,
Not blessed with the sight of wiser men,
Must see their designs with a simpler eye.

After all, is it not the case that great men,
Focused on the finest of details,
May still miss the broad strokes of their own great work,
For their own great heads are in the way?

Sacred duties set aside,
I bring news and tales from the common herd
Should it interest your most noble ears,
Including a matter of interest to your Majesty -
And perhaps to those brutes of the North.

May I be granted the privilege of entrance?"

[knightedskull]

Zeddrous takes his seat and then slams his head upon the table with a bang.   Now mentally prepared to listen to a fool.

[Criptfeind]

Henry Conricht entered the room silently cursing his lack of conviction about not tasting of the wine last night. Still, it was quite good and he was only paying with a minor headache. On any other day he would have declared it a fair trade.

He took his seat amongst the nobles of the realm and listened to the fool. What worth did this man have? Such was yet to be seen. But still, his case was pleaded articulately and should a man not have the chance to say his word?

Henry looked over to the King awaiting his decision on this matter, maybe not important in of itself, but certainly at least a small test of his rule.

[Tiruin]

There was a knock on the door, followed by a voice that seemed irritated and out of breath.

"Good blazes, I'm late for the meeting, aren't I?"

Renart relaxed by the doorway as he saw another man pass by him. It was probably a bad idea to have stayed in his Quarters for too long, basking in the idyllic scenery while he could, and choosing to enter the meeting in full plate - minus the helmet, of course.

He pushed himself through the door, nodding and whispering an excuse to the bravo at it's side and followed in the other noble's wake. As he took his seat, he noticed that the clanking of his sabatons made everyone else notice his and the other's arrival.

Renart made sure the bundle of scrolls he carried did not slip from his side as he adjusted himself to a better seating position. The number of people present indicated that they must have been waiting for quite some time.

"Excuse our tardiness, your Highness, I was held up by a suitably tedious climb of indefinite proportions." He licked his lips as the silence became evident, and fathomed the reason on why.

"Ah, has the meeting started?"

[Araph]

Well, that didn't turn out like he had hoped. Time for a different tact. Koios navigated to an unsuspecting part of the castle and sought out a convenient informant (in this case, someone who appears to be a random bureaucrat or page). Putting on a far more noticeable Ralkarian accent, he started the dialogue...

"Excuse me, my good man, but I believe I am to see the king? I am the emissary from Lethesonokini*, I was to meet with his majesty today. Would you please direct me to his meeting chambers?"

Please be gullible, please be gullible... Koios thought to himself.

((*Capital of the western Ralkarian Isles))

[knightedskull]

Zeddrous lifted his head at the sound of a vaguely familiar voice.
He turns to see a man in blue full plate without the helmet, carrying a bundle of scrolls, taking a seat across the table.   Zeddrous, without the helmet, recognized the man's face as Renart Lionel.
An exceptional man to be sure and fought valiantly in the war.

"What was that question he asked?   Oh, if he was late or not."

"Marquis Renart, correct?   An honour to meet you.   No, you are not late for much except for the arrival of the Fool and his foolish sayings.   Though it is the King's call on his staying."

If he were in charge the Fool would be dancing on a plank over the balcony.

[Dwarmin]

The King did seem a bit surprised to see a Fool outside of the dining hall...

"Well, this is merely a meeting of numbers and scrolls-I suppose you can attend Fool, as long your interruptions succinct. And, if you have useful news, I am honor bound to hear it. But tread carefully-word of these proceedings, to a point, I do not mind spread among the people.

But some secrets might cause even a Fools head, if they were to flutter unattended from their cages." He replied with a bit of humor, a bit of a warning, smiling wearily.

...

Albert nodded to Renart.

"Indeed, we have just begun to pontificate and rattle sabers, Marquis. You are not yet late."

"The army currently has no generals and no marshal. I humbly suggest that my brother should name new ones today. That is all I have to report for now. I leave the floor to another lord."

"Indeed, Brother. Your own aspirations in this realm you have long conveyed to me, and I know you to be a shrewd tactician and soldier in your own right. It is only right I name you Marshall of the Realm. There are some perks to growing up in my shadow, anyway. And it's long time you began to shine for your own achievements, rather than mine.

It's time we expand our soldiery. I'd like you to be at the head, Richard." The King said, nodding to his brother.

"Likewise, our not quite late Marquis Renart has been proven time and time again an excellent defender of the Border-and he brings men with years of combat experience.

I should not deign forget the Blackshield-his family name is an honorific, if you all recall your history lessons-who have always been known as ferocious warriors. I would give the Blackshield a chance to prove themselves in battle once more.

Lord Zeddrous-you are known as a keen moneymaker and logisitician. I'd like you to oversee the funding and supplying of our army, not only it's construction but it's tending and care to in the field. After all, our soldiers cannot be expected to go on the march with only their own boots to eat.

I'd like the three of you to serve the Realm as my generals. Do you all take these duties upon yourselves?"

[Dragor23]

Theor abutted on the table, folding his hands. Was he really worthy to be a General or thought the king he must pay for past blood sheds with his family? The young mand didn't know the motives from the king, but he nodded and said solemn "I will indeed serve you as general, Your Majesty. It is a honor to stay in the line of duty for the kingdom... And the dinasty of Conricht." Which were the royal family. Not everything was the best, but Theor got the chance to grab some military power... He glanced over Richard, who will be the marshal. "Congratulations, Prince Conricht." came smooth from him. Not a big suprise, that he got the job.

[Iituem]

The Fool bowed his head to the King and sauntered past the bravos, who did not entirely relax back from their stances.  Fust did a slight circuit of the room as he made his way to the King.  The Fool shrugged a little as he started to speak.

"Nothing too saucy for the most part, I fear.
The usual rumours of the King's affairs,
His choice of bedfellows, his lack of heirs.

A new brothel opened, the Drifting Chemise,
Not grand, but most popular with last night's festivities.
The owner's a mongrel, a Selenid's pup,
Who I hear's at the slave marts to increase his stock.
I say this for the Treasurer, may his beard stay waxed,
I assume such a business will have its own tax?

There's a flood of foreign blood since my liege's coronation,
Many come from far and wide to witness now the sight.
I hear of new mercenaries, soldiers of fortune,
One pair of note looks to be paid to fight.
And there's some Southern spy asking questions thr'out the city,
Who's proving very questioning about our own nobility.

And one last piece of news as the end draws near,
Whose privilege the king's should be the first to hear..."

By this time the Fool had circled close to the king so he bent down and whispered, dropping the cadence entirely.

"I don't have a name, but one of your circle has been trying to recruit mercenaries for a raid upon the Haegar coast.  A little bird tells me he offered a two ducat successful raid bonus to a prospective mercenary captain, so whoever he is he means business and can back that up.  He was definitely noble, but I can't say what rank.  I can investigate further if need be."

The Fool sprang back up with a smile and turned to the rest of the court - eyeing in particular the noble who had smacked his head on the Fool's arrival.

"Now as I remember a wise man did surmise,
There's a time now to posture and another for silence.
Tis the duty of folly to take notes from the wise,
So I'll shut up by choice - there's no need yet for violence."

The Fool planted himself down on the sill of one of the windows and, true to his word, added nothing more.

[Ardas]

Edgard could not help himself. He started clapping slowly.

"What a brilliant little man. Your Majesty, could I hope to borrow him sometime and take him down to Arborvent? My sisters would be delighted by his rhymes. I'm afraid they would be less delighted by his snooping. A sharp tongue without a sharp blade to back it up is a deadly combination. For the owner of the said tongue."

[Skyrunner]

Rasgar stood up. He reported,

"The past Queen, while the sole individual who brought around the nation of today, has neglected the navy. Response to Haegar raids consisted mainly of reactive dispatching of troops after the landing of raiders: not one Haegar raider has been turned back by the navy before they landed. Which is understandable, because for most of her reign the navy has consisted of a number of fishing boats manned by fishers, and with boarding crew consisting of farmboys who have never held a weapon. Despite the recent peace of our northern neighbors, there is no telling what the Haegars are up to.

"In short, your Majesty's navy currently does not exist."

He sat.

[knightedskull]

There was a gleam in Zeddrous eye.
A gleam that said:
"Finally.   After years of profiting from a war before my time I'm appointed by the King himself to do what I've always been doing for years .
This time, though, it wont be profits from dead men." 

A weapon in need sells high.
After-Wars means a surplus of weapons no longer being used.   
A weapon not in need sells cheap.
When someone buys weapons for an army they are gonna need to recuperate loses as best they can when the battles are over.
That's when you need to make the better price offer.

Though sales go much smoother when you clean weapons and armour.
Maybe if he ACTUALLY improved their quality he'd be good at metalwork or leather patching.

Zeddrous bows his head to the King and says:
"I graciously accept the position you bestow upon me, your highness.   I will prove you did not chose wrong for the position"

As to what the Fool said:
"Maybe this Fool is not as foolishly foolish as the foolish fools I have seen"

Zeddrous simply nodded at his direction.

A confuse look appears on Zeddrous's face.
"Wait, who just spoke?   I didn't see him come in.   There's another I didn't see come in.   Bah, formalities can wait till later for now."

Zeddrous may not know or remember the man's name but he had a point.   Navies can be vital...and profitable if you spend the time removing rust.

" I agree that we should have a navy.   A navy is vital for the cities and keeps settled in the river as they are more vulnerable to ships. Ground troops would have to cross a bridge acting as a choke point.    Also a navy could transport soldiers at distances without wearing the men out through long marches or provide supplies to ground troops on either side of the river."

[Tiruin]

"Marquis Renart, correct?   An honour to meet you.   No, you are not late for much except for the arrival of the Fool and his foolish sayings.   Though it is the King's call on his staying."

Renart nodded at the blonde man, "The pleasure is mine, Lord Zeddrous." The vague memory of the Lichenmire house drifted through his mind, and he was glad to see one of their offspring in an aspiring position once more. It was the beard that gave him off.

He looked to the King and bowed from the neck, placing a gauntlet to his chest. My liege and my King, I accept this offer. For even if I am not the most experienced of warriors, know that I shall serve until my last. Now, about the borders..."

Renart brought out a scroll and unfurled it, reading it's contents - mostly on Northwatch border reports and the status of affairs, "If this had been addressed, apologies, however I must make sure these reports are heard.

"In the past years until the coronation there have been scant visits from the Haegar, and sightings of raiding parties have dropped post-war from our scouts. Most of those stationed at the Northwatch have not heard head nor tail of our less civilized brethren, nor have we sighted the roving slave caravans near our border in the past couple of years.

"I've disbanded most of the regimental forces stationed there except for one loyal troop composed of our veteran fighters to man the castle and take care of the stables. On the Haegar, I'm expecting a unification of sorts with their clans and tribes - if they could stay silent for this long, perhaps they have plans of their own to enact. But that is just my musing." He finished and furled the scroll once more. "Saying such, I don't think we're seeing an attack from them in the coming months unless a scouting force be sent into their land."

He waited for the King's reply, including the matter on the Adranic navy - he had no experience with shipboard tactics or how they fought, so he kept silent.

[King_of_the_weasels]

Cyril lifted himself from his chair and turned towards the king.

"My liege, War's End suffered an early and harsh winter this year, and what few men I had to guard the borders I sent to their home's to ensure a quick and full harvest, as well defend their families from whatever scoundrel's were foolish enough to waste what they had, and may wish to take what wasn't theirs.  As for my guardsmen, I'm afraid they are under equipped, The Iron Woods aren't the safest place during the warmer seasons, specially since the worgs* begin to appear.  With heavy heart we had to burn our bows to stay warm." 
Cyril cleared his throat, he didn't much like serious discussion, but it had it's place, "I plan on remedying that as soon as possible.


OOC-
*Worgs = Dire Wolves