[u]High Sun, Rotaerus Castle[/u]

There was quite a bustling noise coming from the council room. Six Purveyors, four Mayors, and a handful of royal guards were all standing around the elongated table in the center. The powerful group of people were intermingled and talking, discussing the going ons of the Kingdom. From the pirates in the east, to the clansmen in the north, and of course the faint whispers heard from across the world. It should be noted however that international affairs are not a favorite subject of conversation in the Osterlaind. Their notorious isolationism has been one of their defining traits; and now it could be their biggest problem.

As King Arthur and Prince James walked in, every man turned and bowed, as was customary. "Please, let us begin," the King announced. At his request, the mayors and purveyors took their seats at the table.

"If I may speak your grace," Derek Goetz, the Purveyor of Justice began. The King nodded to grant him permission. "Thank you. I must say that it is highly unusual to have non-council members sitting in on a meeting; especially one that is by no means about a normal topic." He was of course referring to the mayors and the prince. As per Osterlaind law, only members of the council could vote in their meetings.

"Your point is noted," replied Arthur in a manner befitting a king. "I can assure you that they are not here to vote; I know the law as well. They are merely here to express their opinions on the matters at hand. These issues facing us, indeed face all of us. I believe the mayors should be able to speak their peace." Derek Goetz nodded in acceptance and sat back into his seat. "And on that note, we are here to discuss the resource issue, the clansmen in the northern valley, and the pirates off of the eastern shores."

The Purveyor of Industry, Edward Stevenson, and the Purveyor of Prosperity, William Caldwell began discussing the heart of the resource issue. The large problem was the isolationist ways which had their rule over the nation for many decades. At one point in time it had helped the nation; but now it was taking its toll. The economy of the Kingdom was suffering as gold deposits were becoming scarce within the mines. Add to that the issue of increasing population and continuous raiding from the north and east, the situation was not looking good.

"There are two ways to aid a failing economy your grace; war, and trade. Given the state we are in, the latter would be preferable."

The king folded his hands and leaned onto the table. He agreed wholeheartedly. "Yet who would engage in trade with a nation who has cared nothing for others? Granted, we have not committed any direct offenses towards anyone; but ignoring them can be just as insulting. I fear our ancestors ways have put us in a tough position."

"I believe there is something we can do about that," the Purveyor of Diplomacy said. Nicklas Anders pulled a letter from his robes, bearing a broken foreign seal and addressed to the King. The letter was passed down the table to Arthur, who opened it and began reading intently. His eyes grew brighter, and his demeanor seemed a bit more cheery. The letter was hopeful indeed.

"This is a letter from the Gu-shedal of Manram. He is inviting us to a celebration in honor of his birth date." Murmurs arose around the room as they discussed the opportunity. The King turned to Nicklas. "Do you believe they would be willing to engage in trade with us?"

"I see of no particular reason why not. If we attend the celebration, we could use this as both a moment to forge bonds, and perhaps cause prosperity for us and our new found friends. We have everything to gain from this." Truly, parties could be make or break moments in terms of diplomacy. There would be many foreign dignitaries and rulers attending, making it extremely convenient for a nation seeking to make friends.

"And everything to lose..." Muttered the King. "He requests we come unarmed." Again a murmuring arose, this one not so calm nor polite. For a King to go someplace without protection was unheard of. Kings in the Osterlaind had always worn swords on their hips and always had loyal guards following them, with swords on their own hips. The council members did not like this idea in the least.

Sen spoke above the rest, "my King, I strongly advise against it. Even in the name of good will and respect, one cannot be so foolish as to enter a foreign city without protection." Several others voiced their agreement with the Purveyor of Guardianship.

Arthur sat there contemplating the ramifications of each decision. "We will discuss this issue later. But I can say with surety I will be going to the land of Manram; with or without weaponry."

Sen frowned at the sound of that. "As you wish my king." He knew there was little he could do to change a kings mind.

"Now onto the matter of the clansmen. Something must be done to stop their attacks upon our people."

"Perhaps an army could be raised?" Philip Rich held the title of Purveyor of Advancement. "A small force could be sent north to deal with them once and for all."

The council began discussing the proposal immediately. Raising an army would put a minor strain on the economy; however, it would take care of the problem that's been bothering them for quite some time. Short term loss for a long term gain sounded acceptable.

"Let's put it to a vote then," Sen suggested.

The King agreed. "All in favor of raising a force of one thousand men to go north and fight the clans?" Every member of the council including the king held their hand up, voting unanimously 'yes.' "It would seem we are agreed then. Call the soldiers to arms and have the General take command of the offensive. Tell him I wish for no harm to come to women or children. Within reason, he may use whatever methods he chooses to gain victory." The messenger standing in the room bowed and left for the barracks. There he would find the General, and from there, civil defense soldiers would call up one thousand regulars out of civilian life.

"And what of the piracy epidemic sire?" The mayor of Moltosaere knew all to well of this problem. For months now the coastal villages of his city had been raided and ransacked. "The navy is not large enough to deal with the increasing threat."

The king sighed, he had momentarily forgot there was more than two problems. He wondered if there was ever a king who had it better, for he would surely trade places with that man. "Would raising the navies numbers be prudent?"

The Purveyor of Industry raised his head, "I believe it would your grace. It would give the craftsmen in Caederon a boost in production; that should at least help the local economy."

"However, having to supply those ships and then pay the crews thereof would be an added problem," the Purveyor of Prosperity interjected.

"So a modest number then?" The king suggested. "Should twenty ships dedicated to protecting the Moltosaere coast suffice?"

The mayor nodded his head, "I believe it might you grace."

"All in favor of a twenty ship expansion to the navy?" Again, they all voted 'yes.' "Then if there is nothing more to discuss, this meeting is over. If my son and Nicklas would both meet me in private; we must discuss the issue of the trip to Manram."