by Glenn » Thu Jul 05, 2012 6:32 am
Glenn Burnie had been a mapmaker. Occasionally, Ariane Emory had tried to extrapolate various traits of his personality outwards from that fact (ironic since she probably did not know the meaning of the word extrapolate), with varying levels of success. Did it allow his mind to metaphorically navigate the space between the needs and desires of various parties and thereby negotiate the most fortuitous compromise for the good of Myrken Wood? Likely not, but he certainly walked around as if he could do such things, regardless of the reason behind them. In fact, he probably had a different reason for each person who challenged him on it. Glenn Burnie did know his audience well.
"I rather think that initial upturn fell to ash with the Meetinghouse, with the dreams, with the Ashfiend, and before that, with your own fall." Framed that way, in the context they have crafted, those words would likely not further bolster Helstone's ego. "Were it not for your foresight in placing Cinnabar Calomel where you did, you might instead be visiting not just a dead province, but an undead one." The converted populace of Myrken Wood, forged and shaped by generations of hardship, rampaging through the entirety of the continent as a zombie army that felt no pain; that might have been Helstone's legacy if he had just made a slightly different decision. No wonder such power could change a man.
But then the former governor had taking umbrage with one point. "Would have you died for Myrken, even before you became Governor? It matters little. You chose to live for it, and that is quite often, far more difficult." Then, a particular notion sparked the slightest of smiles upon young Burnie's face. "Tell me, instead, did you ever see yourself as a Myrkenite. If Chewdry had stormed down on high and asked you what you were, with no repercussions or boons to be gained, would you have ever called yourself a Myrkenite?" Therein was the difference.
"Careful." Burnie played with that word upon his tongue. "Careful." He inhaled softly and looked to the eyes of the man across from him. "That's just it, isn't it? Every single man, woman, and child here in Myrken is a potential threat. Every one of our neighbors. The monsters underground. The Throne. Any ally can become an enemy, and here in Myrken, so often does. I live with that knowledge every day, with my every decision, with my every delegation. It's a coin though, that carefulness. And on the other side of the coin is paranoia." Here just the slightest of pauses, the slightest examination of Helstone. Need he say more? Would it be a mercy not to? Or would it just let things fester and burn?
No, best to continue, and he does, calmly, but not without some of that great regard he mentioned previously. "I have to prepare for every eventuality, but I can commit my resources to no single one. I prioritize, yes, but I think it's actually that balance which keeps me level. So long as I prepare for everything, so much as I can, with each scenario weighted carefully, I have done all we can. If the Drow, en masse, sweep us off the face of this land tomorrow in a wave of blood, spiders and sorcery, " a little wry scowl at that prospect, even despite himself, "then, all the preparation in the world could not have changed it. I cannot let such things drive me to distraction and irrationality, Lord Aubrey." He paused slightly, shaking his head twice. "I cannot."