An Audience with the Governor.

[Cinnabar]

If the knight expected outbursts or shouted words he is sadly disappointed, for the Governor has maintained a civil tone thus far and shows no inclination to change that, raising his voice solely in order that it might be clearly heard at the back of the room. Clearly there are certain points on which he feels strongly, certain issues with which he disagrees - the portrayal of Jan Baker as an innocent victim particularly, which might imply that the man's death was not merely justifiable but deserved. Nevertheless, though he speaks with earnestness and sincerity, though emphasis and inflection are used with natural facility to convey his views on certain matters, it would be remiss to describe his demeanour as particularly volatile or excessively emotional. Controlled, composed and civil throughout, and it is in a similar vein that he considers the knight's words for a time before he replies.

"The facts surrounding the Baker case were explored, the chain of events leading to Jan Baker's death was ascertained, and the investigation was concluded in a way that best served to safeguard the victims who would suffer should the details of the case be made public. With respect, sir, the protection of the innocent is my main priority, as I am sure it is yours. If they want reassurance, the populace may examine my conduct since assuming public office and before and draw their own conclusions on my integrity. I believe that they are more than capable of such, and have little need for sensationalist pamphlets to tell them what to think." A nod for the folded paper in Malaroth's hand, clear enough that he holds scant regard for the allegations it contains.

"As far as investigations by neutral parties are concerned, I see little point - there are those who seem determined to believe the worst of me no matter what I do, and I doubt that any stamp of approval will change that. Those who have eyes to see and minds to reason can form their own opinions. The rest are free to believe whatever spiteful and malicious nonsense they desire, and good luck to them. Meanwhile I shall continue to fulfil my duties to the best of my ability." From his tone, it is clear enough that he considers the matter to be closed; he has made known his views on these pamphlets and their contents, and there is little worthwhile to be gleaned from further discussion on the topic. No, wait - perhaps one last thing. His attention turns from the knight to the rest of those gathered, noting expressions, body language, heads turned to whisper to the person in the next seat.

"On a related note, I wonder if there might be any members of the Concerned Citizens for a Cleaner Myrken present this morning. If they are unwilling to admit to such, perhaps some of you, ah, know someone who is a member of this group, and have been asked to raise an issue at this meeting on their behalf?" Terribly polite in this inquiry, terribly interested to see if any of this supposed group have taken the opportunity to question the Governor directly. Pale brows lift in anticipation, gaze moving from face to face to see if anyone seems interested in speaking. At all.

The truth is that he has made a wager with himself on the matter, and is interested in seeing how it turns out.

[channe]

And, finally, Agnieszka Kaczmarek steps up from behind the Governor, where she'd been standing all this time as part of his retinue. She hesitates for a moment, and then fixes Malaroth with a glare colder than the bitterest day of winter.

"I killed Jan Baker," she says. This answer is for him, despite the rest of the people in the room. "I killed him to save someone in my family from being raped. She wasn't the first -- did you know that? There were other women on the farm. He'd screw 'em because they couldn't say no. He'd threaten t' take food away from their kids if they didn't do it. I was passing by at th' time. Saw it happening through the window. I punched him first, dragged him off. He found a knife an' threatened me. Threatened my family member. Attacked. What the hell was I supposed to do? Let him do it? Watch it happen?"

She pauses. The matter requires some delicacy. "If you would've rather I just let it happen -- if you would've rather I just bared my throat to that bliad' tvar' when he'd done that to my -- then you are no knight. You have no sense of love. The Governor had nothin' to do with any o' it, 'cept that he gave me my penance, and I have repaid it."

She spits on the ground. "So. There. You 'ave yer dirt, ser. I hope you choke on it, so high on yer knightly white horse. The Governor is innocent o' it all. He's the most honorable, cleanest an' fairest man I know. Besides my brother Piotr. But. This --" she holds up the paper sheet with the accusations on it -- "Is the work of shitrags who want to see Myrken Wood torn apart, the guts o' its people ripped out for ravens. An' --" her voice rises -- "I. Will. Not. Have. That. I won' stand for it. An' none of you should stand for it. Stand *together* under the man who will protect you. I say this knowin' I can't go back to m' family. Not after I said this."

There is another pause, as she looks directly at Malaroth. And then she looses the Militia armband and places it in front of the Governor. "I'm sorry, Cinnabar."

And then she turns and walks out of the side-chamber. She can no more stay there than she can claim innocence. Not that, mind, she ever had.

No. Hiding is now a priority, until she can figure through the repercussions of this statement.

[Malaroth]

I therefore hope that we can discuss these allegations in a reasonable manner, without risking personal offense...

without disrespect intended...

I will thank you in advance, listen to the answer, and then be silent so as to allow others to speak

I understand from your answer that you are not willing to tarnish the reputations of those involved

However, it might seem to the populace...

Something to bolster people's confidence while protecting those who need not be besmirched?

accountability is important for its own sake, even for the most honest of men.

Malaroth watched the Kaczmarek woman erupt and storm out while replaying his words from mere moments ago. For his part there had been nothing but civility, an attempt to speak fairly with the Governor while being sensitive that some might take the concerns addressed on the pamphlets quite seriously.

It was a grim reminder, for the grim knight, as he shook his head with a tired sigh. In Myrken Wood, as in many places, one's commitment to virtue mattered little compared to how well one was liked. Few indeed were those who liked Malaroth.

"Thank you for your answers, Governor," his probable last words for the meeting. If the Kaczmarek girl thought him to be attacking Cinnabar then let it rent space in her head, he told himself. His conscience was clear, however troubled by the allegations leveled at this Baker person.

The Truth was worth being unpopular.

[Wendy]

The governor's wife is seated at the end of a full row - close enough to the table of refreshments in case she might be needed. For a time she can be seen adjusting the way of her skirt so that it falls comfortably. The dark fabric near reaches to the floor from the lap of her folded legs.

When the Knight speaks, her chin is lifted. His hawkish visage is studied at an angle. She cannot see the paper held in his hand, but does not need to. The man appears to be speaking on behalf of the pamphlet, and before long her gaze is turned away from him.

Respect for the Knight falls with each sentence that he stresses. Listening to the man's cordial tone question these ridiculous accusations, as if the truth is not spoken from the man behind the lectern, adds insult.

Honorable, upstanding, moral, judicious, professional, ethical - these are words that define Cinnabar to his very core. To have to watch the head of Sir Deucalios, a man she once felt admiration for, choose to henpeck Cinnabar, who upholds orders similar to those that the knight supposedly lives by, is disappointing. It is an effort to keep from admitting so. It is troublesome to watch the man that Malaroth Deucalios was wither away into this bitter heap of cold flesh and self-righteous blood and bone.

With a prayer that it is not too late for the Knight to find that there are other people working for the good of Myrken Wood, truthful people - besides himself, his companion knights and squires - Cambree watches, noting that Malaroth conceals his scorn beneath a mask of civility.

Myrken Wood can expect overblown rhetoric from some people, especially hidden people, but Deucalios? This is a letdown. Her green eyes no longer hold the man. Instead, she smiles for the barmaiden, Dulcie, catching her sitting nearby. That is, until Agnie Kaczmarek steps in to make her claims.

[Dulcie]

The barmaid had spent some time fiddling with one of the pamphlets she had come across, though considering she couldn't read it she really didn't have any idea what it said. She hadn't had the time to track someone down to read it for her. Malaroth however would clear that up in a few moments and she would listen curiously, returning Cambree's smile when it's given until that was interrupted by Agnie's confession.

Dulcie blinks in suprise at her words, watching the whole thing unfold from where she sits, an expression of concern crossing over her features as she watches Agnie go.

[Treadwell]

Passionate outbursts, verbal wriggling about, and the head of government at the middle of it all? Aloisius Treadwell, sitting quietly save his usually wheezy breathing, merely smiles quietly and slips an arm around his admittedly slightly unsettled wife, wiggling a little closer to her on his chair and rubbing her back.

For once, with all this ruckus, a Myrken Wood political meeting finally feels just like the ones he's been used to for years, back home in Westenford. Maybe Cinnabar will make a proper politician yet!

[Glenn]

Glenn had been there, close enough to Cinnabar for the man to know he was nearby yet just far enough that he need not be in the way. Glenn had listened to various responses from the populace to various statements, keeping his mouth shut. Oh, he liked to talk. He liked to make big dramatic statements, but this wasn't exactly the sort of setting he thrived in, for lack of experience if nothing else. He would have to be uniquely moved to speak now. As it was, he was just listening.

On the matter of the CCCM, there WERE a few murmurs from the crowd. Someone's cousin knew someone, or claimed to. Johnny Smith from just down the street there said told someone he knew someone who knew someone too. It's just that he wasn't there today or else he'd tell them himself. A few poorer merchants said that it was obviously the farmers who have been planting them, appealing to their concerns and what not. A few farmers present seemed to think that it was the merchants. Spier was one of their own, right? It wasn't anything definitive by any means. Most of them knew someone was behind them. They just figured it was one internal group or another.

Then Agnie made her statement and Glenn couldn't help but frown. He had half a mind to rush after her. The other half wanted him to rush up there and say something. She didn't do Cinnabar any favors there, despite what she thought. Whether she killed Baker for Cinnabar or not was no longer the question. Now it was the fact that the whole matter was covered up, that she was put into a position of power after it, that Cinnabar knew. Either he was corrupt or he was irresponsible or, more likely, he had no one and nothing to answer to. It was what he thought was right and there was no one who was in a position to question it or object to it. This was, perhaps, the danger of having the High Constable be the Governor as well.

No, Agnie had done Cinnabar few favors, and now she had put herself against a wall. "Damn it." He was close enough to the front to push forward, to grab that armband and to dart after Agnie in the side chamber, fully meaning to pin her down before she got too far. Apparently, that half of his mind had won out.

[channe]

The side chamber: for now, the province of Glenn Burnie and Agnieszka Kaczmarek --

"Defend him," she hisses, looking at him. He has her against the wall; the only explanation is that she *let* him, for she can fight far *better* --

"All of my notes are in my desk, upper right hand corner. they fill in all the blanks on militia defense. If you wish them, take 'em. -- otherwise, go. Go. No matter how you think, no matter how devoted Cinn is; he has a baby now, if he wants to *keep that baby* he has to *go*. Find a new place. I do not regret Jan Baker, do you understand? But the rabble does not understand right. Does not understand *justice*. Cinnabar is bigger than all of this. *Let them rot*," she spits in his face. "Because -- I. Regret. Nothing."

And Glenn Burnie might notice that he has Agnieszka at his mercy. She's released her attempts to fight back. For now.

[Glenn]

He has her pinned back against that wall, metaphorically, literally as well. Glenn Burnie was as close to Agnieskza Kaczmarek as he's ever been, save for during the dream or when she was helping him stumble home drunk. Cool eyes examined her. They did not judge her. The mapmaker always made it a point to judge with his words and not his gaze. Actually, it happened completely by accident, every single time. He was young.

Where first? "Defend him." There, where she began. "Defend him. That's not what you just did, Agnie. You opened him up to more right there. Now you're going to run? Now you want him to run? For the sake of family, right?" Family: the one biggest difference between these two. "Where's he going to go? Where can he hide from the world? Where can you? That's not how it works. Myrken's bad. So is everywhere else. The difference is that we are in a position to do something here. Cinnabar isn't going to run. He has more reason to fight than ever." He has reason to make this place safe for his family. He started to do good for the sake of doing good, because it was what he saw as most acceptable through his examinations of the world. Now he had a damn good reason, a damn personal one. None of this is voiced to her, of cousre.

"You defend him, Agnieszka. What you did in there... that's wasn't falling on your sword for him. That was leaving unanswered questions, ones that he can't answer without losing something." One arm was up now, as if to hold her back, while the other was presenting her with the armband. "You gave them half the story. Put this back on and give them the rest, Agnie. You didn't get off with a slap on the wrist and a cushy government job. You're paying off your debt to society. Self-defense, yeah, sure, but the law's the law and you're paying off your debt. Go tell them that. Go tell them that you give a damn about this place, just like you give a damn about your family, and that you're going to protect it. Tell them that it's all out in the open now and that you're going to keep your job and that because it's out in the open, the allegations have to be wrong. No more leverage is even possible." The truth sets her free, right?

But he was staring at her now. He couldn't just leave it at that, at what he wanted. "You can't run. The Agnie I know wouldn't. You came in to the Dagger a year ago, full of bluster, back from adventure, the returning hero of your own mind, with all the confidence in the world, and you pushed me around, and I thought to myself... if she can do it, if she can fight against everything in front of her, the whole world, so can I. I was done running. No more. Never again. Was all that a lie, Agnie? Are you really that person, or are you just a scared little girl with a kitchen knife who tries so damn hard to pretend to be Ariane Emory? What's it going to be? Get back out there and take your life back, for your sake and for his. You want me to defend him? Fine. I'd rather cut you down here and now than let you just run away from this, for your sake and for his." It was time for the darkness to end, one way or another. He didn't tell her that he knew she could do it. No, he just draped that armband over her and took a step back. It was up to what she would do, now, whether it be attack, turn back into that room or just give into that... angst once again and then have to deal with the consequences of it all.

[Khalika]

The Gypsy watched and listened as the Govenor and the Shepard Knight verbally sparred in their passive agressive ways, that fact that they were so cordial show just how insincere the gestures were. Besides watching their interaction she paid close attention to what was said. She was somewhat surprised that the Shepard Knight was so quick to jump to suspician, especially seeing as the information on the postings were so obviously meant to be slanderous more then exsposures of truth. She suspects perhaps their personal friction has possibly led him to see the Govenor in a less the glowing light.

During these thoughts, the Kaczmarek girl states her peice in her Kaczmarek may. It involved the pig Jan Baker, this she could speak of for Jan Baker had something of a reputation, and he did little to hide his views. She remembers have a drink when she heard of his demise, and it wasn't out of respect. Then Glenn Burnie took off after her, and it was after the room had settled back down, that the sound of her hands clapping rippled through the room...It was slow and held something of an attitude.

"If you two are done with your latest round of i'm right and you are wrong.." She was of course speaking to The Govenor and the Shepard Knight. "I think we should deal with the real reason we are here. It is not so that The Govenor can despute or defend any action he has taken or has been accused of by these....interesting little tidbits of information that were so cleverly written as to take event that have indeed happened in Myrken and twist them in such away that even people who know the truth are left to wounder "what if?" "

A pause as she moved from the wall, making her way towards the head of the room. She has got to be the most unlikly defender for the Govenor, though perhaps that will give her words more substance, for she is not one of his "inner circle".

"The reason we are here, or at least the reason I am here, is to discover the Author, For I would like to ask him, why he or I suppose to be fair she. Wants so much to drive a stake through the heart of Myrken."

She was then looking directly at the Govenor....Her arms slowly folding as she leaned against a chair...

"Tell me Govenor, who else beside the Shepard Knight Dislikes you so much, that he or she would go to the time and expense to create such a divide in a town that is just barly healing?"

Because it did take some planning this she knows, from her tracking of the latest posting, and some expense. For such secrecy does not come cheap.

But she will wait for him to reply, perhaps now a true dialogue can begin as to who, would harm Myrken so.

[channe]

These tears should be for Aeryn's shoulder.

But he won't tell Agnieszka for whom he works these days, and in the last few weeks she has taken to wondering why. And the fact is, a mercenary's life is not enough for the oldest Kaczmarek daughter; she believes.

She picks up the armband. She didn't have much choice, the first time she put it on; she had to, then, a child of her love for her family and her desire to keep her neck where it was. Her admiration for Cinnabar came afterward. Grew, and grew, in Aeryn's absence. And quietly, she stares at Glenn Burnie. And then, her arms go around him, if he'll allow -- to draw him into a tight hug. You'd almost mistake it for a hug between close friends. Lovers, perhaps.

They are not lovers. They are not even friends. They are something else entirely. Something bigger -- and more terrible -- than that.

"I hate you so much," she whispers, as intimately as he'll ever hear. Right into his neck, right below his ear. "I. Hate. You."

And then she ties the armband back on, in thrall to the promises she's made.

And goes back out into the room. Stands right behind the Governor. Clasps her hands behind her back.

Closes her eyes. Opens them.

Waits.

[Wendy]

Intrigue grows as an audacious Glenn Burnie moves after Agnie Kaczmarek. A stranger to Cambree moves from her seat and begins speaking. Khalika is forward-facing and directing most of her attention and speech toward the governor. His seated wife must lean forward to listen.

It is not easy to hear the woman's voice, especially while there are others in the gathering making concessions with one another, having discovered information that may have proved their arguments wrong. Surrounding Cambree are persons that simply do not know the "Citizens for a Cleaner Myrken" or what's it they're called? She reads blank expressions among them, and eases back in her seat.

Folding hands in her lap, she chooses to continue watching, once gaining a look at the Treadwells while the Mr. rubs the back of the Mrs.. A pacific smile takes shape before she eyes Dulcie again, as if to ask if she is following along without any trouble? Things do seem slightly chaotic to the teahouse madame. Her smile widens, but she moves to pay attention to the discussion once more.

Agnie and Burnie seem to have sorted themselves out. For a time, she watches Khalika's figure, trying to sort out who she is and what she is about.

[Carnath-Emory]

They'd spoken of this, she and her student - in a sense. They'd touched on it briefly: the prospect of this, the intent of it and what it might essentially mean. Throughout most of that brief conversation, she'd kept her thoughts to herself.

They were not kind.

And here is the realisation of all the things she'd half-imagined might come of such an audience: she had lingered in a doorway through the last of them, made her entrance to the crowded building only long after Kaczmarek's last words had faded, so that Agnieszka is making her return almost as she makes her approach.

Perhaps there is some symmetry involved in this moment, but if that's so, it can only be very slight, for the swordswoman approaches no further into the interior than these few steps. Takes no seat for herself at all, but instead lingers at this rear wall, not far from the door: a sellsword's lazy, lounging posture, ankles crossed, features mild.

It's a good place to stand. It affords her a view of all the interior, and of so many faces, as well.

Not a word from her, once she's found this place; not a gesture, no sound at all to announce her presence. She's heard enough of those already from everyone else. She'll hear this, too: what comes next, for Khalika Quiller has just asked the questions that her own lips would have shaped.

[Cinnabar]

That Agnieszka's confession - her very public confession - is something of a surprise to the Governor is clear enough from the startled blink and perplexed frown that crosses his features as she begins to speak; not surprise at the nature of the facts revealed, so much as that they are revealed at all, after he has been so resolute on the necessity for discretion. This... is not discreet. This is not what he wanted, this exposure of the sordid details of Baker's proclivities and the speculation and gossip that will inevitably result. This is precisely what he had been striving to avoid. Not for his own sake, nor even for the Captain's, but for the sake of those who'd been subject to Jan Baker's unwanted attentions, who faced disgrace and shame as a result.

Nevertheless, his features are schooled to a stern neutrality by the time Agnie finishes speaking, though there's a flash of disapproval as she sets her armband down on the lectern before him, a subtle shake of his head and a few murmured words pitched for her ears alone.

"Don't be so rash."

His attention turns back to the crowd a moment later, the buzz of excitement that this revelation has caused rippling through the gathered townsfolk. A small nod for Glenn as he goes after Agnie, and then a more pronounced bowing of his head at the knight's thanks. Well, hopefully he'd heard all he wanted. Meanwhile the Governor is thinking quickly, evaluating the impact that the news has likely had on matters, gauging the mood of the crowd from the tone of the mumuring voices that form a backdrop for... slow applause.

"Ah. Khalika Quiller, good morning."

Brows furrow slightly as she stands and speaks, her tone ripe with condescension for the Governor and indeed everyone else in the room. Pure presumption to claim to know why they were really here - or perhaps arrogance in telling them, as if they didn't know for themselves.

There's a glance for the side door as Agnieszka returns, a small nod and smile of gratitude as he notes the Militia armband back in place. But Khalika speaks on, ending with questions which may or may not be rhetorical. A moment's thought before he clears his throat quietly and speaks.

"We are here as advertised, in order that I might respond to any concerns or questions which members of the general public wish to address to me directly. Your own reasons for being here are likely to result in disappointment, as it seems that our poison-pamphleteers lack the conviction in their beliefs to attend in person." A wry smile and a shrug, their absence no surprise at all - indeed, he's won that wager with himself on whether or not any of them would show. As for these other questions... well.

"Miss Quiller, might I inquire as to why you hold such an interest in seeking out our phantom agitators? Are you considering throwing in your lot with a new troublemaker, now that you're done mourning the Fiend?" There is little affection for the gypsy, that much is clear, and he holds no illusions that she might be following the pamphleteers' trail for any reasons but her own. She'd once called him a fool for thinking that Myrken Wood might ever know stability or peace, and that has coloured his subsequent interactions with the woman. No friend of Myrken is she, seeming not merely to accept the land's troubles but to revel in them, to seek out and court the favour of those who do the most harm to Myrken and its people.

"As you know full well, Myrken Wood has many who would see it cast into turmoil. Some seek to enslave the land to their will, some to exploit it for their own selfish profit, while others simply have a thirst for havoc and discord. Whatever aim of this latest group that endeavours to sow strife and uncertainty in our hearts, the best - no, the only way for the people of Myrken to possess any measure of peace or prosperity is first to unite behind a common cause and to direct our combined strength towards that common goal." Firm in tone, here, a fierce determination in his gaze, voice clear and confident and utterly sincere.

"I would see the people of Myrken Wood able to live their lives in safety and contentment. Regardless of what you think, Miss Quiller, I cannot concede to the suggestion that this is simply how things are, that this is what it means to live here - to live under the shadow of fear, to live with the constant knowledge that any day some horror or madman might bring suffering or death to those I care about. It is not a way for anyone to have to live, and I find the idea that things cannot be changed for the better to be repugnant. I will not accept it, I will not tolerate it - not for me, not for my family and my friends, not for the people of Myrken Wood whom it is my honour to watch over and protect. Things can improve, and I and those who stand with me will fight with every breath we have to ensure that they do. It will not be easy, it will not be swift, and I cannot promise a paradise, but with each hard-fought step we will make things better."

A pledge and a promise and a declaration of intent that is spoken with the finality of fact, with a resolve that brooks no doubt as to his dedication to this cause he espouses. Though he has kept his attention upon Khalika throughout this impassioned speech he now looks to the rest of the crowd, grey eyes picking out familiar faces, making a brief but determined connection with each; moving from gypsy to knight to councillor to swordswoman to abbot to initiate to barmaid and on and on, lingering longest as he meets his wife's gaze, but then lifting to regard the audience as a whole.

No boasts that he will bring glory or renown or fame - what good are they to a people who have known such hardship and loss? No. He will bring what they most desire, what they most need - peace, prosperity, the freedom not just to live, but to thrive.

If they will let him.

[Dulcie]

A shrug would be offered back at Cambree.. the barmaid was lost over the finer details, the politics of the whole thing, but at least she had the advantage of knowing all the players so to speak. It was a good position to be in, knowing a little bit about all the people who were speaking. She'd listen to Khalika's statements, and then notice the return of Agnie, her eyes never really having a chance to settle on one particular person long enough before the next was speaking, though she did her best to keep track of what was being said at least. She'd remain with a neutral expression, listening for the most part.