An Audience with the Governor.

Postby Vanidor » Tue Jul 08, 2008 1:22 pm

His appearance might have caused a little stir. Some small wake in the people assembled because here was an individual fully named within the pamphlets as well. A man of dignity, by the way he walked and the gentle pressure his fingertips applied to make way for his passage. A golden coiffed head, those locks set in intricate braids and patterns that were held in place by clips of bronze and copper, and coloured strips of leather interwoven between the strands. His voice, when it popped up shortly after the passionate speech delivered by the Governor, was deep. Commanding, but without arrogance.

"Ten thousand years ago I came to this land." His steps carried him forward through the small assemblage. In his wake trailed his ever present female companion, her half-crazed violet eyes darting back and forth, silver hair done in braids that matched that of the much, much taller Vanidor. The cream colour of her simple dress almost matched exactly the gentle tan of her skin. "A land that was tempestuous and rugged and wild. Dangerous and dark and foreboding. We came to subdue this land and make it habitable, for our families and friends. For our ancestors and their children's children." The Elf Lord pushed a path for the front of the room. See. Here he was, a man 'pushed' out of his office by the Governor. Perhaps. They certainly saw things in a different light. How could Vanidor not, if he truly had lived for such a lengthy period of time. But here he was, almost marching for the Governor's side.

"Even then, this land held a dark name. Merisdardia. The Forest that is Shrouded in Shadow. We came, to fulfill our destinies as Guardians and Protectors. A task only half completed, even to this day. For the Forest taxes the strengths of even the eternal and un-aging." There was no point in iterating that there were less than three score of his particular line in all of the world. Glenn knew. Certainly Calomel did as well. That was enough. "Ever have we sought out those of other races who were... skilled in bringing Light to the Darkness, in pushing back the shadow. Let it be said, know and for always, that that nature is imbued within the Governor as well. The Enclave of Sildiena, have and shall always, side with this man in his endeavours to provide a brighter future for Myrken."

Here, the elf narrowed his ice-blue eyes, scanning the crowd that had presented itself for this... talk. See them push aside this clear and present declaration of his... Loyalty? Perhaps that's what one could call it. "Men in power do what they must to protect their people. Adopted or Natural. Instead of prattling on about the way things must be as you see it, seek instead to be part of the solution and let your pride go to the wayside. Truly, there are better endeavours for men of High Honour, than worrying about who commands who, or coveting and grasping for power of your own." His eyes were ever roving, slits of mild annoyance upon his forever youthful features. "Putting a second thought to these pamphlets is the least concern for certainly they do not come from the -people- of this land. We all know, I would believe, that they declare their grievances much more vocally than what can be said in simple parchment."

One should always be drunk. That's all that matters... But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk. - Charles Baudelaire


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Postby Khalika » Tue Jul 08, 2008 6:52 pm

So much for true dialogue, had such words been spoken to her in the dagger he may have gotten a different answer. But she did her best to check her attitude at the door, seems some of the so called gentlemen in the room forgot to do the same. She was about to snap back at him for his own assumptions, till he brought up Teron. She expected that, for she has alway dealt with the consequences of her actions. Valinor held her tongue though with his own words, and he gave her a chance to regain her focus as to why she was there...The only reason... Myrken..

"Calo..Govenor, we have never seen eye to eye, probablly never will. The life I have lived has ruined me forever. So unfortunately I am of the habit to see the worst in things. But like the Councilor has said, it is in your nature to bring light to the darkness."

A pause as she looks about at all the people around her. The map maker returning with the Kazcmarek girl, the tea house owner, the Treadwells, Dulcie the barmaid from the dagger, even the Shepard knight is ganrished a glance, and finally Ariane who lurks by the door hoping no one will see her. These were the reason she was there.

"You are good for Myrken, because you truly believe it can be better. You stand at the front of the battle, when most in your position stand at the back. You take on all avenues, without delegation because you don't trust anyone else to do as good of as job as you can. You make decisions, weather they are popular or not... You still make them. That is what the people of Myrken need. "

"Of course everybody knows these things already. Every person in Myrken Believes such. But they have been burned before, and those wounds are still raw. Something so trival as a poster filled with slanderous remarks, is just the thing to tare open old scabs. That will lead to old grudges, and soon you will have a community split in half. No matter how many times you dispute these allegations with the truth. More will come, and those who are too tired to desperate will be ripe for the picking. That I believe is one of the reason for them. For each posting someone will wounder, maybe the Citizen for a Cleaner Myrken are not so far off the mark, and there numbers will grow.

"Right or Wrong, the bad things are easy to believe, in all people. Not just me..."

A slight wink at his opinion of her. it doesn't bother her all that much for she wasn't exactly genlte during their first meeting, and she has learned since then, that this Man takes his first impression to heart.

"That is the reason I believe you...No all of us have to find who is behind this. For everytime he slanders you, he damages Myrken, and Myrken I believe has been damaged enough..."

She stops again, she's not one for preachy speeches, she's the one who throws out snide remarks when others give preachy speeches..Sudden for a few moments, the Gypsy holds a touch of self doubt. that it didn't come out like she wanted it to, that they..No he wouldn't believe her, and of course Glenn Burnie is back, and saw evidence that she does in fact have a heart, and cares for something other then her own personal gain...She's never going to live this down...

"Govenor, Myrken is my home. It is the home of people I care about..It accepted me for who I was, it accepted everyone of us, faults and all...Yes I believe it will never be truly at peace....But that does not mean...I do not hope you can prove me wrong. That is why I stand here, that is why I think it is important to find the one who holds the poison quill. and if you will allow it, I may have a way to flush this person out. I agree with the councilor, that he is not of Myrken, his loyalties do not lay in this land at all. but I suspect, he resides here now..."

She turned now...Having said her peice, she has little hope he will care, first impressions and all, but she spoke with no agenda, and soon she standing next to Ariane. Leaning down to whisper..

"I think you would have done a better job at that, I'm not very good in front of a crowd."

What a lark, on could almost say she was speaking to the choir...
"There was a piping in the woods....and it bid you....come follow....."
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Postby Malaroth » Wed Jul 09, 2008 1:56 am

There was one, at the very least, who followed Master Burnie's line of thought, and followed it with a deepening scowl. There had, indeed, been a cover-up, for which the Governor was not accountable to anyone, and for which the Kaczmarek girl had been placed into a position of power. It told him many things, but among the first things reiterated to himself was that, in his confrontation with the Governor, he had been right to be suspicious of the sudden appointment of the latest militia captain. And, of course, there had been the Governor's own answers which had essentially asserted that he refused to answer to anyone for what he had done.

Not only had he been right, but Calomel had been quite insistant that he not investigate the matter, or even be allowed to.

And yet, he noted with eyes that picked their way amongst the assembly, there were those who favored him with scathing looks, most notably the tea house Madame. His scowl twisted into a dry and sarcastic thing, an expression of wry unbelief and yet, the sheer audacity of it lent it an air of truth; truth that it was really happening. That to disagree with the current ruler, or even to question him, was to invite a very mild persecution. It sent a shiver down his spine with a planted seed of germinating horror reminiscent of inquisitions and the rallies of charlatan faith-healers who presided over their misled flocks from shabby countryside tents.

Now there were those in the assembly who had equated Myrken's survival with Calomel's remaining not only in power, but in something resembling supreme power. It was a subtle thing the Governor had wrought, with hidden barbs; a parasite now, for it to be withdrawn would only cause the host to bleed out immensely, dangerously, perhaps even fatally.

For all the dispelasure of dealing with the Governor-Constable there had always been common cause to see people protected and freed from fear. But now, in the small room abuzz with murmur and elven blessings, suspicion and emotion, the grim knight canted his head towards the sun-filled windows and exhaled the last of his trust in the man. For better or worse, Myrken's fate and Calomel's were now bound up in chains and should one sink, so would the other. And those who had spread the pamphlets, which he again withdrew to turn his gaze over, might not have had their facts straight but they were aware of the dawning threat too.

What good would their presence have done here, regardless? Surely they would have received only similiar civility that, in essence, told them to hurry up and be silent, along with the scorn of the Governor's inner circle. A hard gaze swept the people with a distinct but hidden nervousness - was he alone with such thoughts?

There would be no accountability, he told himself. There would be no compromise, no understanding, no true dialogue.

He crossed his arms with a sad and private sigh, watching Myrken prepare to die.
I wish I had a reason
My flaws are open season
For this I gave up trying
One good turn deserves my dying
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Postby Wendy » Wed Jul 09, 2008 5:00 am

Let it be witnessed by all others that are of sound mind that no scathing looks were given in the quiet moments that Cambree showed regard for the Knight. If anything would be read of her thoughts or her features at that time, it would have been disappointment - sadness, and a slight measure of embarrassment for Malaroth Deucalios - as one might look upon a treasured friend in his decline.
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Postby Dhugal » Wed Jul 09, 2008 4:02 pm

As they sat there listening to the discussion between Calomel and
Malaroth, Matthias' eyes lit up as he heard his own opinions of recent
events given voice by the knight. He might have even raised his
hand, but a sharp look from Father Abbot Fidelius was enough to
keep his hands folded inside the sleeves of his habit.

Fidelius leaned closer to the novice and whispered so only the
younger man could hear him. "We are here to listen and observe,
not to become embroiled in an argument with the Governor. Pay
attention to what is being said and who supports either view."

With that he turned back himself to see who would speak next.
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Postby Cinnabar » Fri Jul 11, 2008 10:58 am

The elf-lord's arrival is unexpected - for as long as Calomel has held public office as Constable and Governor, Vanidor has rarely seemed to venture beyond the forest sanctuary of his people. Perhaps that is more to do with the lack of a place to gather and converse than anything else, and now that the Meetinghouse nears completion it may be that the various Councillors will be more frequently visible in public.

Councillor Goldenhair's words are even more surprising, given his lukewarm support of the Governor in the past, and his more vocal criticism of certain of the changes that Calomel has introduced. Still, while it might be unanticipated this firm endorsement certainly isn't unwanted, and so there's an appreciative nod for the elf-lord, a smile for such approval.

"Councillor Goldenhair, my thanks." There is more he wishes to say, certainly, but the gypsy speaks again and it seems that this is indeed a day for wonders as she also makes a speech in support of his tenure, his policies and his motives, free of the sarcasm and condescending scorn that he has come to expect from her. Pale brows raise curiously as he reviews his opinion of the gypsy in the light of this latest turn of events. A nod for her as well, and even a smile.

"Miss Quiller, my thanks also. I must confess myself surprised, but not unpleasantly so." Some thought on her words, on her offer, before he shakes his head.

"I must disagree, however, on some points of what you have said. While your offer to aid in identifying our anonymous pamphleteers is generous, I do not believe the matter deserves such attention. That they must rely on distortion of the facts, on twisting the truth and spreading malicious slander against me and my government is, I feel, something of a vindication of my work as Governor. That they cannot form a cogent argument against my policies, but are forced to weave tales of conspiracy and corruption from half-formed facts and idle speculation, tells me that those policies are on the right path and that these supposed Concerned Citizens are very much clutching at straws in their efforts to bring Myrken's government into disrepute, to undo the progress we have made over the course of this last year." A year that has seen its fair share of tragedy and suffering, but one that has also seen matters change for the better, in some regards. Issues long-neglected now addressed, potential troubles recognised and steps taken to prevent them. The Governor speaks on, voice clear and determined.

"There are those who would call me a tyrant. There are others who would depict me as corrupt, or inept, or greedy." A genial nod for the Abbot and his initiate, who have so far remained uncharacteristically quiet. "As long as they voice such views in a lawful fashion and do not disturb the Peace, they are free to do so. That they choose to spend their time peddling malicious gossip, spiteful exaggeration and blatant fabrication is their prerogative. I am confident that the people of Myrken Wood can make up their own minds on the matter, and can gauge for themselves the accuracy of these portrayals, whether they take the form of pamphlets or posters or plays." That the propagandists seem to think that Myrken's people are cattle who will happily swallow any old nonsense betrays a certain arrogance, an attitude of smug self-satisfaction on the part of those who would manipulate the views of the populace to serve their own agenda. The Governor, it is clear, has more faith in Myrkeners than that.

"I am willing to listen to criticism of my actions. I am willing to accept that some may not agree with my policies. If they have suggestions on how I might better serve Myrken and her people, I would be delighted to hear them. We still have a while before the end of this meeting, after all."
Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.
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Postby Reinstadler » Mon Jul 14, 2008 5:19 am

Giuseppe

A hush has overtaken the crowd. It seemed that no others were willing to step forward, at least not as of yet. That just wouldn't do. "Salve." It was with a southern accent that the man spoke. His clothes would mark him as being from the far south as well, further than Razasan by far. They were light in color today, his only such outfit, not that it mattered much. His disposition seemed cheerful enough. "You say that anyone can speak here and now, yes? Good. Good."

He would step forward with no little grace. He looked dangerous enough despite his positive attitude. "I am Giuseppe and I am one of those strangers that Myrken welcomes with the open arms when many, many places do not. I am in good company, yes?" He'd glance around the room. With all the death in Myrken there was so much turnover in the populace, especially in the town. Many of the people in the room today had come only after the Flux had passed. It was something even a newcomer couldn't help but know.

"I've been here four months now. Not a long time, maybe, but I've the good, good eyes." He would tap at his temple, right above his left eye for emphesis. "I've seen many, many things with them in many, many places. I've seen kings. I've seen Governors. I've seen tyrants. You? No, you do not seem a tyrant. You do not seem a tyrant... yet." His tone changed with that last word. It darkened. It became harsher by far. The smile remained upon his face, however.

He was looking to the crowd more so than the Governor. "Myrken is interesting. I like Myrken because it is interesting. Interesting is not safe. Rarely, does it mean safe. Here, it does not, no. One danger after the next. One monster, one threat. So people keep giving you more and more power. Constable becomes Judge. Becomes Jury. Becomes Executioner, No? Monsters keep coming. You take more and more. You build a wall. You remake Council. You stop listening to men like the knight when they disagree with you." There was a nod of the head to where Malaroth had been. "Still, the monsters come. Still, people suffer. You want to know what these good, good eyes have seen? What they have learned? There is nothing more dangerous in the entire world than a noble heart with unchecked power." He would not explain that. The evidence was already there. Calomel would save everyone, no matter the law and no matter the cost.

"Lots of words. I know. Mi Dispiace. Establishing... the mood, maybe? You want the point. Here is the point. These good, good eyes. Here is what they will see in a year, if things keep on going like this. They will see a tyrant named Cinnabar Calomel. The solution, then? High Constable and Governor both. It is wrong. It is deadly. It will break you if you are a little too weak or you will break Myrken if you are not. I don't want that. I like Myrken. Myrken likes me. Anyone who both creates and enforces the law, even with a little, little bit of ambition, and you, you want to make the world better. That is much ambition. Anyone who does both, with ambition in heart, is corrupt by nature. There is one hope! Find a new High Constable. Respect him to do his job how he will, not how you will. In a year's time, I might have a nice city to live in, no? Just don't ask Giuseppe to do the job. I love Mykren. I'm not crazy though. Couldn't pay me enough for that." And with the rather wordy, unsolicited advice out of his mouth, the man would put both hands in the air, shrug slightly, and retreat back into the crowd.
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Postby Cinnabar » Sat Jul 19, 2008 11:13 am

The southerner's greeting is met with a somewhat curious look, but on the point of anyone being permitted to speak there is a nod from the Governor, a small gesture to invite him to say his piece. A small frown as the man speaks - at first due to Guiseppe's apparent unfamiliarity with the language, but then in response to what he means. He waits politely, though, noting how the fellow plays to the crowd, statements and questions and implied meanings aimed more at the townsfolk than at the Governor. There is a pause before Calomel replies, picking his words carefully.

"With respect, sir, I must disagree - as one might expect." A brief smile at that, then moving on.

"I use the authority invested in the Office of the Governor to make life better for the citizenry of Myrken Wood. This is my duty as Governor, and a responsibility I have taken very seriously since entering office almost a year ago. You were not here, sir, so you would not know of the neglect that Myrken suffered before then - a Governor absent more often than not, a Council divided and seemingly incapable of action in his absence, and Myrken's defences reliant upon the whims of a corrupt mercenary company that barely even paid lip-service to the laws of the land that employed them. Farms left wastefully idle caused widespread famine, and when the Ashfiend stalked the land the people sought in vain for an end to the threat. There was no leadership, and Myrken's citizens suffered as a result." Looking to the crowd for a moment to confirm that he speaks the truth, then back to Guiseppe.

"I have made changes, yes. I addressed certain needs and shortcomings that went ignored for too long. The streets are now safer for decent folk because officers of the Constabulary keep them so. Our borders are more secure than they have been for a long time because we has its own army made up of dedicated Myrken folk who are willing fight for their homes and their families, not foreigners who fight for coin. Our food supplies are more assured since farms that in recent years grew nothing but weeds have been brought back under the plough. These are hardly the actions of an oppressor, of a tyrant, hm?" Brows raised inquiringly at that, in case the man might have a different definition of tyranny from that commonly accepted.

"Your concerns over my position as High Constable are also, I regret, somewhat misinformed. In truth, I have been delegating more and more of the running of things to the Chief Constables of late, and I would not be amiss in saying that my role is largely that of figurehead at this point. If my retaining the title is causing misapprehensions, however, then that can be changed readily enough." A nod in acceptance of that point, taking it under consideration for now.

"To turn to some other points you raise, meanwhile: that you acknowledge my intentions as honest and sincere is gratifying, sir, and I thank you for that. But as to your assertion that there is nothing more dangerous than a noble heart with unchecked power, I would counter that the only ones who would find it dangerous are those who themselves hunger for power. Those who would seek to seize that power and twist it towards their own agenda, to place place their own selfish desires above the needs of the people. I would maintain instead that a noble heart that is allowed to express itself, that is granted the means to strive towards its goals can achieve wonders - not least of which is encouraging others to do the same." A grin at that an undeniable earnestness in expression and tone.

"To equate an honest desire to make things better with corruption, meanwhile, is ludicrous - is it corrupt to carry out one's duties to the best of one's ability? No. To call that desire ambition is also inaccurate, as ambition serves only he who holds it, furthering his goals at the expense of others." Sobering slightly, hands loosely grasping the edges of the lectern.

"A better word, I believe, would be hope. Because hope can be shared."
Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.
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Postby Reinstadler » Sat Jul 19, 2008 11:31 am

The man would watch carefully, would gauge things, would listen until the end. Was Calomel a politician, one who attempted to sway the people, to manipulate people, even maybe for their own good? No, It didn't seem that way at all. He would finally speak, once more, in that thick, thick accent. "Spoken like either a child or a fool." The tone was hardly harsh. If anything it contained frustration and even regret. "People and life, they don't change just because you put their foot down, just because you want them to. The world does not work that way. Your name, it will be remembered. Years from now, those who hear it will shake their head and sigh at what might have been. I say I would tell you to do as you will, Governor Calomel, but it seems like you intend to anyway." When all went well, a tyrant was beloved. It did not make him less of a tyrant. It just made him one of the more competent one. "Good day." He seemed to have been trying to sway no one but Calomel himself, though, of course, everyone in the room had heard the exchange. With that goal seemingly futile, the southerner found his way towards the door, on his way out.
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Postby Malaroth » Sun Jul 20, 2008 5:19 am

The knight watched with great interest as the accented man articulated a shared perspective from someone whom the Governor might not readily dismiss as a blow hard. It is, however, a sorrowful exchange that he beheld instead, a sorrow and frustration exhibited openly in the clenching shut of eyes, fingers paired to pinch the bridge of his nose, and a head shaken with a ponderous and wretched realization of future misery.

His hand moved to raise once more, and then paused, already hearing the cool civility with which the Governor would answer, a civility that would, in a great many more words than was necessary but would maintain a facade of decorum, instruct the knight to sit down and be silent. Each shake of his head rang with the remembered argument that he had become embroiled with concerning just those things of which Calomel spoke - freedom to express noble deeds without being checked at every turn. Anyone who disagreed would only be dismissed as either jealous or a fool.

He turned for the door. Reaching it, the knight turned and spoke with a cool firmness which would, he did not doubt, be construed as bitterness or envy of the Governor. Yet for all these things the truth was a more worthy companion even for such reproach as he would face. Hypocrite, the scathing looks would tell him, self righteous, jack ass - for questioning a man in authority who was well-liked. His tall figure, clad in black and framed in the doorway remained still as his lips then framed the thoughts flowing swiftly through his mind.

"What good you have done, Governor, does not entitle you to do what you please, how you please. This cover up, no matter how well intentioned, has demonstrated that you are accountable to no one, and your answers tell me that you have no intention to be. The nobility of heart you laud is shared by many here in Myrken, men who have fought, suffered, and died for this land. Yet, it seems to me that yours is the only one allowed this... freedom of expression of which you speak. Any who disagree are after your power, or are conveniently jealous."

A sad silence for a land that he has come to care for, a land that he has protected, bled and been burned for - often by its own leaders and populace. Myrken needed more than a man, for when the man fell so would Myrken. It needed something that would endure, a principle, a god, a code, a something beyond us - something that the knighthood, at its core, was all about. The cult of personality was an easier road, however - something the Violet Dawn had learned well. So be it, he considered, with his final words for the entirety of the assembly.

"The ends cannot, cannot, justify the means."

With that, there is the crisp and disciplined turn of a booted heel and he is striding from the chamber.
I wish I had a reason
My flaws are open season
For this I gave up trying
One good turn deserves my dying
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Postby Suede » Sun Jul 20, 2008 12:08 pm

Well, hadn't been this been an interesting little pomp and show. Another man had been standing near the front of the crowd for quite some time now, woefully inconspicuous until the foreigner said his part. Suede, former Councilor of Myrkenwood, would tip his hat to the gentleman as he passed, and perch it high on his head to make his face obvious.

He moved forward and spread his hands. "Take it from my experience, dear Governor, appearances are all that matter. And by all appearances you are becoming just what they are warning you about. You can claim noble goals and deeds as much as you want, but when do the decisions you make, if you have even any hold over another office, because what benefits you. Or perhaps what you -think- benefits everyone, and it doesn't matter if their opinion differs."

There was a crooked little grin on his face. "Wasn't the former Councilor of Defense brought under question for being in his seat and head of the Mercenary order hired to work for Myrken? Before he went bloody barmy, of course. These posters are just proof that the argument need not be strong in order to be effective. To you, or people who know you well? Perhaps. But do the general masses not at all. Revolutions have started over lesser things."
"So, Lone Starr, now you see that evil will always triumph, because good is dumb."
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Postby Inajira » Sun Jul 20, 2008 1:23 pm

There was at least one man who cared little for politics, at least not for politics' sake. He sat, quiet and unobtrusive, not terribly far from the latest speaker who wore a hat that caught the briefest of scrutiny. There were rumors to investigate of another nature and matter entirely, matters that the other gypsy-blooded might deign to touch upon, might bring to bear should she press on in her interest.

The matter of whether or not Heath was involved. Rumor had it that the pamphlets had come from the direction of his new homeland, and any attention turned southward was attention that the Chained Lord would require knowledge of.

He crossed his fingers over each other and listened on in silence, at least for now.
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Postby Hawkesbury » Tue Jul 22, 2008 1:39 am

Politics are an art form. In the royal courts of Razasan, one could sit and marvel at the great tapestries of political movement woven together by the most artisan politicians. It was very nearly magical. In Myrken Wood, Lord Hawkesbury rarely likened politics to the mastery of a virtuoso; rather he often compared it to the life’s work of a mosquito, because, more often than not, politicking in the Wood consisted of little more than a bit of bloodsucking and a whole lot of annoying buzzing in your ears. Today was no exception.

Hawkesbury had been sitting toward the front of the audience since before the Governor had opened the floor to questions. The Minister had been entertaining himself a number of different ways since the proceedings began. He had silently speculated the cost of Treadwell’s outfit, given the excessive amount of fabric; had created a mental list of tasks he was going to ask Ethan Reever to complete before the next feast day; and had even started to rank some of the more attractive Myrken women in a hierarchy of beauty. Unfortunately, the last project, which would likely have been the most entertaining and therefore time-consuming, had been interrupted by the outburst from the gypsy woman and, subsequently, he had forgotten to begin again after she stormed out. Instead, he had taken to cleaning the dirt from under his fingernails with the point of his dagger.

He was almost finished with his left hand when Giuseppe started to speak. The southern accent alone was enough to rouse Hawkesbury’s interest. However, the King’s man in Myrken maintained an expression of relative disinterest as he studied the prattling southerner. The expression changed only when the accusation of tyranny arose; Hawkesbury was clearly amused. The wryness remained even after Giuseppe stopped speaking and the knight took up the mantle.

After it was all done and the knight spouted off and marched out, the Minister of Myrken Wood released a stifled snort of amusement. These men would never learn. Calomel had managed to stay calm and cool, like a leader, and the young lions had done little more than bare their fangs, roar, and then walk away when it failed to frighten the leader of the pride. Hawkesbury mentally raised a jousting flag to signal of a point earned for the "tyrannical" Governor of Myrken Wood.

Then, after another quick chuckle to himself, Hawkesbury returned his focus to the most important issue in the room -- the dirt under his fingernails.
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Postby Cinnabar » Thu Jul 24, 2008 12:53 pm

It seems that there are plenty of people in attendance who are keen to offer the Governor a piece of their mind; certainly more than have brought honest inquiries to the meeting. Guiseppe's disdain for Calomel's position earns a slight frown, a subtle firming of expression and cooling of tone.

"I am neither, sir. And what I intend is to see Myrken's people served by a government worthy of the name, which can protect their interests and provide for their needs." A nod for the man as he departs, then. "Good day."

Next it is Sir Malaroth who offers his thoughts once more, at least stripped of the flimsy pretext of having genuine questions to ask. For the theatricality of it all, the turning to leave and then pausing to cast his views back into the room behind him, the Governor has little but boredom. It seems to have become a defining feature in their recent interactions, this insistence on having the last word, on stalking off before it might receive a reply. So a brief grimace as the sound of bootheels fades in the Grand Master's wake, and a slow breath before speaking for the benefit of those who remain.

"Sir Malaroth's main issue, I suspect, is that I refuse to be accountable to him. The days of military companies attempting to dictate policy to Myrken's government are past, I am glad to say." A wry smile at that, the reference to Janeiro's heavy-handed interference in Myrken politics clear enough. "However, he still enjoys command of a knightly Order of his own; as such he is entirely at liberty to follow his own end with the means at his disposal, and I wish him good fortune in such endeavours." And that, it would seem, is the end of that matter.

Which is just as well, since now a certain ex-Councillor, erstwhile murder victim and incorrigible agitator speaks, and the Governor listens politely - for all that there is little new being brought to the meeting, only further accusations of tyranny. Hm. His tone is impeccably polite when he replies, almost clinical in its use of courtesy.

"I would propose, sir, that your perceptions are flawed. I would further propose that you see only that which you most desire to see - namely a Government sufficiently corrupt or debased or despised that you might make yet another attempt at seizing power through violent uprising of the masses. I cannot say that I am sorry to disappoint you. If I may, sir, I would suggest that if the only way you can imagine yourself attaining public office is by manipulating your fellow citizens and inciting them to carry you to power on a tide of riotous bloodshed, perhaps you are not best suited to a position of such responsibility in the first place." The Governor's self-control is commendable, but it is clear enough that it will be a long while before he forgets the lessons learned at Haberdasher's Row.

"You will meanwhile note, I hope, how you and other detractors of the Government have been allowed to voice your views - however misguided, however mistaken - while remaining unhindered by arrest, imprisonment, extrajudicial beatings, summary executions, or any of the other unpleasantness that one might expect to see inflicted upon those who speak out against a tyrant. With respect, sir, to decry me as a potential tyrant makes as little sense as arresting you for being a potential horse-thief." Assuming, of course, that the former councillor isn't a horse-thief. Given the man's past history, perhaps that's not a reasonable assumption. Still, he looks back to the crowd in general before speaking again, clearly hoping to move things on - not because the accusations made are uncomfortable or strike close to home, but because they grow tiresome, as can be seen from the Minister's fastidious attention to his fingernails. In truth, the Governor can more than sympathise.

"Now, are there any more questions? If not then perhaps it's a good time to draw this meeting to a close. So, anyone?"
Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.
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Postby Dhugal » Fri Jul 25, 2008 3:48 pm

Fidelius had sat quietly and listened to the questions and
statements from the attendees and to the Governor's replies.
He shook his head, then stood, motioning to Matthias to join
him. "We've heard enough. Come, Matthias!" He kept his voice
to a whisper.

"But---" Matthias struggled to his feet.

"No buts, Matthias. There is nothing more to be gained by staying."

He gave the Governor a polite nod before walking quietly for the
door, the younger novice following behind.
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