The inevitable, delayed no more.

The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby BDAdmin » Mon Aug 04, 2014 5:47 am

To the Governor's office at the Myrkentown Meetinghouse, a letter. A brief letter.

Governor Burnie

We have matters to discuss. I shall call upon you at your office tomorrow, an hour before noon. Arrange your schedule accordingly.

Almeric, Baron Surdemer
Colonel, HM 28th Regiment of Foot


True to his word, Baron Surdemer arrives at the Meetinghouse a little more than an hour before noon, in the company of a half-dozen soldiers in blue-and-gold over mail; tunics brushed, boots polished, brass buckles and leather swordbelts gleaming in the late-morning sunshine. Their leader is an older man with iron-grey hair and close-cropped beard, the steel of his cuirass etched with prancing harts and the marks of battles past. One of the men - a captain, to guess from the gold braid stitched at collar and cuffs - steps forward to announce the new arrival to the clerk in charge of greeting visitors.

"Baron Surdemer, to see Governor Burnie. He is expected."
User avatar
BDAdmin
Member
 
Posts: 55
Joined: Mon Feb 20, 2012 7:32 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby Glenn » Mon Aug 04, 2014 8:18 am

Burnie's secretary had seen better days. Not all of those who had been victims of Rhaena Olwak's ministrations recovered. In fact, it was a fine line between those of the newer rich who could not help their greed, even now, and those who were simply taking advantage of chaos and confusion. That said, she had seen worse days as well, days of silk and ridiculous braids, and hearts placed where they should not be. No, she was a dour thing now, clad in black with hair a bit wild, though mostly cropped short, but then that had always suited her. It was just that it used to suit her with a bit more bounce and verve. "You are." Her tone was deadpan. "He'll push, but for your sake as much as his. Keep that in mind. You've seen the sort he deals with. You know the sort you deal with back home." That, almost a whisper, before she spoke up again, more loudly. "Please go in." Not once did she make eye contact with him. Not once did she offer him the opportunity to do the same.

Inside the office was the Governor at his desk. "I know less of you that I'd like," this in way of a hello. He was making eye contact however, though he did not stand up. The chair had already been pushed out for the Baron, however. He was expected after all. It was not the comfortable one, which was part of that expectation. "I'm guessing we couldn't begin by trading life stories? The institutions are boring. Despite what most bureaucrats would like you to believe, they don't last. They're not a foundation. It's the people that press against them and hold out the edifice. A person is not his job, his duties, or his title. I'm Glenn," he would hold his hand out across the table, whether Surdemer sat or not. It seemed that maybe, just maybe, he still held the spark that Constance Cross no longer had. His eyes sparkled and it might have been mirth or brilliance or madness. "So who the hell are you, really?"
Glenn
Co-Founder
 
Posts: 3218
Joined: Fri Jul 06, 2007 4:00 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby BDAdmin » Mon Aug 04, 2014 9:52 am

The secretary admits the Baron, offers advice, and Surdemer's features are impassive, offering only a nod once invited to enter the Governor's office. Four of the soldiers wait outside as straight-backed sentinels; the captain and one other - stoic, heavy-set - accompany their commander into the office and take up posts flanking the door, while the Baron steps forward to greet Burnie himself. A glance for the extended hand before he reaches to clasp it briefly, firmly.

"Almeric, Baron Surdemer. Colonel, or Baron, or my Lord as you will." Conditions and boundaries set down, excessive familiarity firmly forestalled, he takes the unoffered chair, sitting upright, hands resting on his knees, evenly meeting the young mane's gaze. The Governor speaks, and it is a slew of informalities, generalities, a flicker of something like insolence around the edges. Surdemer's gaze is that of a man who inspects an obstacle, an obstruction to forward progress, considering ways by which it might be overcome. Or circumvented.

"Who I am, Governor, is not your concern. The only part of my life story of interest to you is the span between my being tasked with securing Myrken Wood's loyalty - or at least obedience - to the Crown, and my leaving, having done so. I have already spent longer than I would prefer waiting for His Majesty's niece to make her attempt. She returned from meeting you with talk of a marriage of convenience - I use the term loosely in this instance - and has since withdrawn from the table."

A pause to let that sink in, allowing the silence draw out for a time.

"Do not imagine that I have been sent here to negotiate with you, Governor."
User avatar
BDAdmin
Member
 
Posts: 55
Joined: Mon Feb 20, 2012 7:32 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby Glenn » Tue Aug 05, 2014 12:50 am

"She's really his niece?" Burnie had sit in this same chair and faced off against other such men. He'd stood and done it elsewhere. He'd laid on his back, boots crashing into his ribs, and done it as well. "It has to be a burden. You're here to cut a straight line through point A and point B. You're here to execute a task, to complete a mission, and this is something you're damn good at. Oh, don't get me wrong, Almeric-as-you-will, the Baron bit you were born into, but the Colonel bit? No, I think not. And there she is, hanging about, drawing lines all over your nice, neat canvas. Artistic expression, she says, a new way of doing things, maybe? Calls herself the Kestrel, which isn't the sort of name on your list you just gave me, is it? Youthful rebellion and an overcomplicated need to make her mark in the world, which is damn hard to do with stuffy old institutions like you being so damn competent at your job. That's one good thing about Myrken," he smiled and it was such a smile at that. "It eats competent men alive. Fools, too. It means that there are almost always opportunities for both here."

Then, as almost an afterthought. "Convenience? I thought she was rather taken with my eyes. Should I try to recall the letter of congratulations I sent her parents? I thought they'd be overjoyed to be rid of her in some useful manner. Ah well. One more disappointment for the pile, I imagine?"

Silence after that. It was a completely different sort than that which Sudemar had tried to unleash before, yet, of course, the very same as well.

"This is not a negotiation and here is why: You have nothing I want and quite a lot I don't want. I, in turn, have nothing you actually want, and quite a lot you'd rather not have to bother with. On the other hand, I want you gone. You want to be gone. I don't want to rebel or raise up or bother the crown in the least. You don't want me to do any of those things either. I want to be left alone and to go back to our previous, quite successful, arrangements. You probably want something not very different. So, nothing to negotiate, but plenty to agree on. If dear Egris is truly off the table, as you say, then what in the world is possibly getting in the way of the two of us agreeing, shaking hands, and never seeing each other again?"
Glenn
Co-Founder
 
Posts: 3218
Joined: Fri Jul 06, 2007 4:00 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby BDAdmin » Tue Aug 05, 2014 8:23 am

"Baron. Or Colonel. Or my Lord." Calmly repeated, enunciated clearly in case the young man might be hard of hearing. "Pick one, Governor. "

Burnie speaks. Burnie speaks at length, full of speculations and assumptions and idle musings. Surdemer waits, listens, though his gaze strays to the Governor's desk, to the walls past Burnie's shoulders, to the buttons of the man's drab vest before they return to those haggard young features once it becomes clear he has finished.

"Lady Verreaux is a niece, yes. Or great-niece. His Majesty does not lack for relatives, but the connection is enough." Enough that she might use it as leverage, as a threat to those who stand in her way. Enough that it is prudent to indulge her, up to a point. "As you say, her family would likely be glad to see her usefully married. It would thus have to be to someone other than yourself."

A small gesture, then, fingertips lifting from his knee enough to forestall the young man, to indicate that he has more to say.

"You have already bothered the Crown, Governor. The time for being left alone has passed. Kostroma could have offered you that, had you dealt with him properly rather than thumbing your nose at him from behind Burel's coat-skirts. As it is, he returned to Razasan. He spoke of you to his peers. You have gained the attention of those in high places, and I am here at their behest." It is clear enough from the Baron's tone that this attention has been in no way positive.

"Questions of loyalty aside, your incompetence and negligence have cost Myrken Wood dearly over the last year; likewise the incompetence and negligence of your predecessors over a span of many years before that. Under your previous arrangement, Myrken did not trouble the Crown, the Crown did not trouble Myrken - sovereignty, self-sufficiency, these are how you like to think of it. Burel's adventure in Derry changed matters, however; it became important to know on which side loyalties lay, and you, Governor, refused to give a clear answer when asked. You threatened to throw in your lot with Burel. Those were the choices you made, and this conversation is the result. Things going back to how they were is not an option open to you."

His tone is quiet, businesslike, though not entirely without a hint of impatience. Tangents, sidetracks, irrelevancies brushed aside.

"What you want is of no concern. What the Crown wants is a reliable, loyal, effective government for its subjects, such that they are not required to overthrow one fool Governor after another in the hope of finding someone who can keep them from starving or being beaten in the streets. Which is to say, not you."

A pause, thoughtful, almost wistful; when he speaks again it is with the air of one resigned to endure an onerous necessity.

"What I want is for Governor Glenn Burnie to shut his worthless cunt mouth long enough for me to present him with the terms of his surrender. I doubt he will oblige me, but a man can dream."
User avatar
BDAdmin
Member
 
Posts: 55
Joined: Mon Feb 20, 2012 7:32 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby Glenn » Tue Aug 05, 2014 11:59 am

In a situation like this, violence was best, preferably the blunt sort and not the sharp kind. In this specific case, however, a curse, even a sharp one, was almost as good. It was rather music to the young Governor's ear. He let it wash over him, though there was no sign of it, no relaxation, no change, not even a tug of a smile upon his lips.

"I have a memory, a metaphor, and a truth," because of course he did, "but out of deference and respect, I'll keep the memory to myself," which, given how the man spoke, had to be quite the effort. "The metaphor then. You are a from a very large pond. You come to a smaller pond. This does not make you inherently larger. You're still a little fish, Almeric, but you are a bigger one than me, a bigger one than I'd be if I came to your big pond. The problem is that it doesn't matter. Myrken's a small pond, but it's a damn deep one, and it's not about how big you are, it's about how well you can swim."

Which left the truth. "You've given me every indication that you don't have the first inkling of what happens here, not truly. It was not a good year, but I survived it, and I survived that mob that was pointed straight at my heart. I stepped up there and I faced them down. I faced him down and I am still here. Even so, were it just me, I'd step aside, I'd step back, and I'd burn every bridge we have so that there would be no one but you to rule. The second a new governor is chosen here, a new leader, a new regent, the very second, that mob is sent forward, like an arrow notched in a bow. I survived it. You though?" He shook his head. He leaned back in his chair. "It doesn't matter, though, because I can't leave these people to that, not just out of spite."

He rubbed at his face, then his shoulder, looked up, and finally looked past the Baron, to the guards. With a final breath, he nodded, looking suddenly tired. "I'll be quiet then, just, first, I have one question for you. Just one. There's something I need to know, Colonel."
Glenn
Co-Founder
 
Posts: 3218
Joined: Fri Jul 06, 2007 4:00 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby BDAdmin » Tue Aug 05, 2014 11:32 pm

A metaphor and a truth promised, and a small nod to encourage the young man to get on with it.

"If I might offer a metaphor of my own, Governor. What happens here is that the offal of the province and beyond drains into the hole that is Myrken Wood, and the ripest turds float to the top. There are things that feed on turds, yes. But there are also poor bastards who get sent in with a shovel when the stink gets too much."

A metaphor returned, and a truth close on its heels.

"Meanwhile you have given me every indication that you have no idea of your situation. You did not survive the year, Governor, in any sense except the physical. You still draw breath. You still take up space behind that desk. Maybe you still sign some papers, stamp a seal on things, dictate letters to your unfortunate scribes. Insulated. Isolated. You imagine that your words have weight. You imagine yourself important by virtue of where you sit." A glance to the desk, the the walls that enclose the Governor's office, before he leans forward slightly as if sharing a confidence.

"You survived, Governor, because replacing you was too much effort for a people drained by a summer of your woman's excesses and a winter of famine. They wanted action, they wanted justice, they wanted help. You gave them words, because that's all you've got. You survived because that's what they've come to expect. They realised that what you do makes no damn difference to them one way or another. The people here survive, Governor, and they do it with or without your benevolent hand on the reins. Because they have to." He sits back in his chair, glancing back to the captain who still stands by the door before returning his attenion to the young man before him.

"I asked around. My men asked around - 'Who is Glenn Burnie?', trying to get a measure of you as a leader. 'Who is Glenn Burnie?' came the reply. 'Didn't we used to have a Governor by that name? Wonder what happened to him.' And then they went back to whatever they were doing."

He offers a diffident shrug in imitation of some apathetic townsman.

"You survived because no one cared enough to unseat you."

A small nod in recognition as the Governor uses his title, as he relents, and a deeper incline of his head in invitation.

"Ask away."
User avatar
BDAdmin
Member
 
Posts: 55
Joined: Mon Feb 20, 2012 7:32 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby Glenn » Tue Aug 05, 2014 11:54 pm

It wasn't a complete falsehood. It wasn't completely true either, though. The people of Myrken Wood were used to their governors fading away. They were used to tearing down the ones that didn't. Burnie was still there. It meant something. He was convinced of that and frankly, he wasn't going to have the opportunity to make it matter if he rolled over now. The baron's words did him very little good and unlike the Governor, who mostly meant to rankle, they would do more harm than good.

"You know nothing about the province if that's what you think." It was repeated, but then deferred, because there were more important matters at hand. No, he had not been shown much at this meeting, but he had been shown just exactly enough.

Deference, finally, allowed for a question. He sat up straight, looked the Baron in the eye. "Logistics are important. They're half of everything. You need to have numbers, exact numbers, tallies, in order to wage a war, in order to rule, in order to do anything important. You need that information to make decisions. I'm sure you understand that and I'm sure you'll understand how important this will be to me moving forward then: Shall we be expecting you to bring a guest to our wedding or do you just have a cunt hand like I have a cunt mouth," and as he spoke this, his left hand rose, and he squeezed the air lewdly a few times.
Glenn
Co-Founder
 
Posts: 3218
Joined: Fri Jul 06, 2007 4:00 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby BDAdmin » Wed Aug 06, 2014 12:36 pm

What had he expected from the infamous Glenn Burnie?

Perhaps a question of practicalities, about what the Crown had in mind for Myrken Wood; perhaps an objection, a but have you considered in an effort to throw obstacles and complications in Surdemer's path; perhaps an attempt to bargain, to offer helpful information in order to improve his own position, assuming that was even possible at this point.

There had been a moment in which the Governor had seemed on the verge of accepting that his position was untenable, that his bravado was unfounded; a moment in which it had seemed there might be progress, the possibility of a reasonable discussion about what the future might hold, and how to make that transition as smoothly as possible.

And then there's that. A silence in the aftermath, broken only by a sharp intake of breath from the soldiers flanking the door, a small shifting of cloth and mail as they tense; in the span of a slow blink Surdemer's features fade from calm anticipation to a frown of faint annoyance, of disappointment.

"I see."

A deep breath held for a moment, released in a weary sigh. He turns his head enough to catch the infantryman's gaze, nodding to where the Governor sits.

"Arms."

The burly soldier grunts something in the affirmative, marching around the Governor's desk and reaching to seize the young man by the wrists, intent on securing them firmly behind his back.
User avatar
BDAdmin
Member
 
Posts: 55
Joined: Mon Feb 20, 2012 7:32 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby Glenn » Wed Aug 06, 2014 2:31 pm

Myrken Wood was where practicalities went to die.

A lot of people too. Maybe the Governor today. Death or another pit of his own making. At least he was consistent.

Now though, there was a man coming at him. Burnie was in his place of power, his sword near. He was mostly recovered from the worst of his ailments. He could make things interesting at least. Fight or flight.

But then, neither was Glenn's way, not when he could talk.

The man approached. Glenn opened his mouth. "You're wrong about one thing. Some of them care. Let's say a third." Short sentences, but a plethora of them. He wouldn't put up a fight if the man reached him. "People who I helped. People who I bled with. People who were loyal to my wife despite my efforts. A third. She's got a third too. Egris. People she saved. People she fed. People she's charmed." That last word wasn't quite correct but he was moving quickly, without adjectives. "Problem for you is that you don't have the last third. Outsider. Crown agent. Noble. They want to hate anyone they can. You're a great choice.

"Baron trumps Niece, though, so it doesn't matter. Except it does. People know. A few. A trickle. Soon to be more. You say her plan's off the table? That's on you. She's the sort to rebel. To hold a grudge. People know. More and more. We're to be wed. Something happens to me? I die. I leave in chains. I just disappear? She'll use that." He was assuming much, but it was the most basic, most petty, most frustrating possibility and he'd seen it in the Kestrel. That's exactly what she'd do, and if he suspected it after one meeting with the woman, Surdemer had to know it, double. "Those who care for me will flock to her." Bird metaphor. Can't get enough of those with her. "Suddenly a manageable buzzing, an annoyance, one third... becomes two thirds. Baron trumps niece. Niece with leverage and support trumps Baron. You know her. Little upstart with everything to prove and a chip on her shoulder. Here. With the masses and the dark whispers of power? The throbs? The horrors?

"Those in high places know about me? They have to live with her. You have running orders to keep her busy, to let her have some fun, the illusion of doing something, but to absolutely, under no circumstances, gain any real power. You underestimate this place. You underestimate her. Fine, but if I don't walk out of that door under my own volition, and then walk back in it tomorrow, it all goes to shit for you. On the other hand? You know her. You've seen me. A wedding a year away? We'll be at each other's throat in a month. Weeks. One of us will either break the other or at least schism the whole deal. You come in after that, punish whichever one's left, and your job is all but done. Then Baron trumps quite a bit indeed." The joy of Glenn Burnie was that unless they took his tongue in the middle of the speech, he would speak this, even in the midst of a beating. If they took his tongue, he would write it. If they broke his hands, he would piss it in letters upon the ground. If they cut off his dick, he would bleed it into the rug.

"There's only one way this ends with you winning, Al, but if it makes you feel better, and it usually does, you can have them beat the shit out of me before you leave. Just so long as I can walk in and out on my own when it's said and done."
Glenn
Co-Founder
 
Posts: 3218
Joined: Fri Jul 06, 2007 4:00 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby BDAdmin » Fri Aug 08, 2014 12:55 am

The Governor speaks quickly. He gabbles a torrent of assumptions and suppositions as the soldier twists his arms up to his shoulderblades, and Surdemer sits quietly in his uncomfortable chair with an air of patient disinterest. Finally, eventually, the young man runs out of steam, spitting dire warnings and defiant threats.

"Lady Verreaux was to marry you for, what - your position? Your connections? As I explained to her, to do so would be a mistake because you are nothing. You have no house or family behind you; you have no army; no title, no lands worth a damn, no fortune beyond what you and your witch stole. You have no support. You're Governor now, but history has shown that to be a very temporary state in Myrken Wood. What use are you to her when you're no longer Governor? What can you offer, beyond half-chewed musings on how Myrken is something more than a misgoverned backwater? It could be, yes, but for years that potential has been squandered by you and your predecessors."

He shrugs, grimacing briefly, annoyed at having returned to a topic he'd previously deemed closed.

"In any case, Governor, you mistake me entirely. This is not a coup or a conquest. I am not here to subjugate or chastise. I am particularly not here to play games with a pompous little shit like you. Thus, I am not here to win any more than a man wins at carpentry, or thatching, or ditch-digging. When I've finished my work here I will march my men out of Myrken Wood to attend to more important matters, and it will be some other poor bastard's responsibility."

As should have happened weeks, months ago. Still. The prospect of it happening soon now is heartening. Invigorating, even.

"I am here, Governor, to remove an institution that is broken, and to replace it with one that is not - an institution accountable both to the populace it governs and to the Crown in whose name it serves. I have the details," A glance to the captain has a sheaf of folded papers retrieved from the officer's tunic and passed into the Baron's hand. "but can give you a summary."

A moment for Surdemer to unfold the papers, glancing briefly at their contents as if to refresh his memory. He clears his throat before speaking, glancing back to the pinioned young man behind the desk after each point.

"Governor Glenn Burnie will be removed from office - poor health, a disorder of the nerves, disloyalty to the crown, abuse or delinquency of public office, pick one or any. The Judiciary Council will be dissolved, citing a short yet sordid history of corruption, incompetence and neglect. I doubt many tears will be shed.

"An interim government will be appointed, chosen by a Crown representative - me - to oversee the transition on the Crown's behalf. A few familiar faces and popular figures, of which you are neither.

"Drawing from current tax and property records, Myrken Wood will be divided into households; the heads of each hundred households will select from among them one whom they most trust to speak in their interest. That individual will have a seat on the new Council. Myrken's landowners and nobles - such as they are - will also have a seat, by virtue of property or blood.

"From among their number these new Councilors - Landlords and Hundredsmen - will select a Governor agreeable to all, who will swear allegiance to the Crown and oversee Council meetings on His Majesty's behalf."

The summary concluded, Surdemer folds the papers closed and leans forward to set them on the Governor's desk.

"You want a degree of sovereignty. You want self-governance. You want the Crown to keep its distance. You will have these things, but in a form which works. If it fails, that failure will lie at the feet of men like you. Men who would burn down the whole edifice for spite and pride, and damn all of Myrken because you didn't get your way."

He turns in his seat, meeting the captain's gaze and nodding to the door; the younger officer reaches to rap his knuckles briskly against the wooden panels, and a moment later the door opens to admit three more soldiers, who march with stoic features to surround the Governor at his desk.

"So. You can walk out of this office of your own volition or not. Either way you are leaving. Either way you will not walk back in." Firm on that point, each word weighted as if to drive it home into the young man's understanding.

"Choose what you say next with care."
User avatar
BDAdmin
Member
 
Posts: 55
Joined: Mon Feb 20, 2012 7:32 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby Glenn » Fri Aug 08, 2014 1:38 am

Five soldiers and one Colonel.

One Burnie, not fully recovered. It was certainly a show of force. He pressed into the man holding him, made the positioning more uncomfortable, more awkward. It was an obtuse gesture perhaps, but if the Baron was going to sit and speak, he'd do it as awkwardly as possible, even if it was the indirect sort of awkward. He heard every word. "It must be nice, living in your world, Surdemer." No more familiarity of the first name, just a cool disdain. "I wish you had been more cordial at the beginning. We could have saved some time if I knew you wanted nothing but to wipe your ass and leave. I understand why you weren't. You're not a man to talk about yourself because there simply isn't anything to say. You're a title and position, a mandate and a duty. You're not a person. You're a thing. How was it done, I wonder? Did you all sit around a big table, plump and oozing, gorged on Burel's failure, which isn't at all your own success? Playing god with people's lives but seeing it as mere custodial services, which really is about the level of competency for a thing like you.

"I spent the entirety of my youth learning to do what you intend here. You cannot solve the problems of Myrken Wood out of a book." He had a plan, at his very worst, a daring plan, a plan that would have worked. It was to have taken generations. Generations. Sacrifices today so that the children of tomorrow could live free of the darkness and pain and hurt, so that they could have a chance in this world. What Surdemer suggested might create an environment of presumed stability, but the bleeding wouldn't stop. It would only get worse. The resentment wouldn't end. It would only churn on the inside, until it all boiled over.

"You can't stop the rain, Surdemer. I've tried. You can't halt the wind. You cannot put people's hearts into a nice, neat box. There's too much history here and frankly, you don't have the resolve to end it. You're going to tie a nice pretty bow around a tree that's been on fire for a hundred years, and call it civilized and safe. You'll say it works. You'll call your job done." And then, frankly, because he could not help himself, the Governor laughed. "You look at Myrken Wood and you think the institutions are to blame. I failed, yes. Calomel before me. Helstone before him. Bromn more than you could imagine. A half dozen Councils. You look at that, remember the lessons of whatever hairy tutor your parents hired for you decades ago, the one that probably touched you in all the wrong places which is how you got that cunt hand in the first place, and you see the institutions as the problem, that and a few politicians. Myrken bleeds. And thank to this, we're going to bleed south all over you and yours now.

"You don't understand her. You don't understand me. You don't understand here. And frankly? The only joy I get here today, is that in the myriad of ways you are wrong, the one way that you are wrong the most is this: no matter what happens with me and Egris, there will be a marriage, yours. You tie your bow and the fire will consume it and you will be back, personally, again, and again, and again. You're putting your mark here, Surdemer, and that makes you Myrken's forever. You think that it'll be all over and you'll head home to your solitude and your latrine where no one can see you, but that's not how it works. I know you don't believe me. I know you see this as a backwoods shithole, and all of us its uncivilized inhabitants. Little shits. You're not the first to think that. You won't be the last, but soon, a year's time, two, you'll know so much more." He paused. He stared. then, he coughed slightly, demeanor becoming more pleasant despite the awkwardness. "All that said, do you mind coming a few inches closer so I can spit at you, just lean in. For punctuation's sake. I should have done that first but then you probably wouldn't have let me talk." Now of course, he was a bit parched. "I suppose this gentleman behind me could angle me a bit to the left, I might be able to manage it then?"
Glenn
Co-Founder
 
Posts: 3218
Joined: Fri Jul 06, 2007 4:00 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby BDAdmin » Tue Aug 12, 2014 6:28 am

Give Glenn Burnie the opportunity to speak, and he will more than rise to it. Perhaps it is the one predictable thing about him.

Within three sentences it's clear that the Baron isn't listening; he glances to his captain with a look of mild incredulity as the Governor continues to fling invective, the officer only shrugging in reply before issuing curt orders to the soldiers flanking the young man. Rough hands reach to seize the Governor even as he speaks on, pressure applied to push him face-down on his desk, arms pinned behind his back.

"Coat and shoes. And check the pockets. Keys, seals, papers, anything official. Have his home searched as well." This from Surdemer, voice raised just enough to carry over Burnie's ongoing tirade; the captain nods in assent, stepping briskly to the door to issue instructions to the soldier left waiting outside. Rather than wrestle the Governor's coat from his back one of the other soldiers produces a knife and sets to work slitting the garment from cuffs to collar. Surdemer watches dispassionately, as a lord out hunting might watch a felled beast being dressed.

The ruins of his coat peeled away, two of the soldiers stoop to take hold of a leg each, lifting the Governor from his feet, while the man with the knife sets to work on his footwear as a farrier might pry iron shoes from a hoof. And still the Governor rants and raves, utters malediction and dark prophecy against the Baron until one might wonder where he finds the breath.

It is clear enough that all those words are falling upon deaf ears.
User avatar
BDAdmin
Member
 
Posts: 55
Joined: Mon Feb 20, 2012 7:32 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby Glenn » Thu Aug 14, 2014 11:37 pm

The coat is cut off, and as it is, there is silence. Finally, though the shoes are gone, and the rant is over, and Surdemer watches, impassionately, and he had not listened. The Governor of Myrken Wood is a creature of loss. He had been through so very much in the last year, in the last two years, three years, four, five, in all of his years especially those last eight since he arrived in Myrken Wood. He'd gained back his soul but far too late to appreciate every little thing he needed it for. Those things were all lost to him now. "I rather liked those shoes," said as an aside. There was a glance to the nearest soldier. More words could be spoken, a warning in that direction, but the poor bastard, occupier as he was, was only doing his job. He'd have to live with this cipher of a Baron. It hardly seemed fair.

Instead, finally. "Enough. This is pointless. Helstone was paranoid. Calomel was clever. I had a need. There are more keys, seals, and papers hidden around Myrken that there's no point in searching for them. Make a new seal. It's symbolic. Change the locks. You'll give our locksmiths some work. As for papers? You could drown in them," After that, silence once again. Presumably they'd stop. It was reasonable. "but it's not your job to. We've kept sound records after the burning of the last meeting house. They're harder to miss than to find and they'll be of help to whoever sits in this chair next."

Even if they hadn't stopped, he'd speak on, short, calm sentences. "This is happening. I see that. I believed what I said. Each word. I think you're wrong, not aims or goals or intentions, but you, as a human being. Still, I care about them, no matter what you think. I do not wish an ounce of your favor, but I do wish to minimize the pain of the people in this transition, as you say. Up until now, you've heard the sound of my feelings," the feelings of a grieving man, under siege, having lost everything, including his own dispassionate control, which the Baron seemed to have far too much of. "Would you instead listen for a short time to my thoughts on your reform, in as I may raise more practical concerns?"
Glenn
Co-Founder
 
Posts: 3218
Joined: Fri Jul 06, 2007 4:00 am

Re: The inevitable, delayed no more.

Postby Kestrel » Fri Aug 15, 2014 2:53 am

It was a curious thing, receiving word from a man like Glenn Burnie, who really had done little to endear himself to her. Especially to be given a sealed note in the middle of a celebration in the Dagger, where she and her men had been spending large stretches of time hydrating the local populace. The boy who brought said letter from the Governor's office, had cleared his throat and announced with great self-importance, that he had word from Governor Burnie for the Lady Egris. Conversation faded and stalled, murmurings sounded. She felt the silent stares on the back of her neck, mostly belonging to those who had heard whispers of future nuptials.

Egris had merely smiled passively, given him a coin for his troubles, and retreated to her private room at the inn to read and digest the letter itself. She was well-aware that her actions in that moment had only added to the rumor surrounding the pair of them. The embarrassed flush that had stained her cheeks did not help matters either. She made a mental note to throttle Burnie for starting said rumors, though she supposed much of the blame could be turned on her.

Upon presenting the arguments of Burnie to the Crown's representative, she was given a kind, but stern reminder that she was out of her element and had fallen prey to the rantings of a charming madman. Nobly, and perhaps still smarting from Surdemer's chastisement, she had withdrawn her bid for power. She and her men had gotten back to their previously-abandoned vacation and left the matter to a better man than she. The idea of a marriage of convenience was put to rest in her mind. She had, however, neglected to inform the Governor of the change in plan.

Still, she reasoned, her keen mind churning with possibilities, perhaps that would prove fortuitous, given his request for help.

She considered leaving him to his own devices against Surdemer, but in the end, her man's heavy fist knocked upon the door while Glenn found himself relieved of both coat and shoes. They were dazzling in their crimson and white against the shadows of the night and weapons rested within their scabbards.

When the door was opened by the King's men, she nudged Henderson who stood at her side. "Told you that we would be late to the party," she scolded him with good nature, her teeth gleaming as she grinned and started forward, into the office, assuming that she was allowed entrance.

Her eyes took in the scene before her and she nodded at Glenn, eyes dancing with amusement at his misfortune. "Burnie," she greeted as if nothing were amiss. She bowed low for the Colonel. "Baron Surdermer."
User avatar
Kestrel
Member
 
Posts: 205
Joined: Fri Jan 10, 2014 5:25 pm

Next

Return to Myrken Wood Meetinghouse



Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 4 guests

cron