[b]Conrad Sforza[/b]

It was a gathering of crows, circling for any scraps of flesh that could be gorged upon now that the King's spirit had been released from its mortal shell. For Baron Conrad Sforza, the death of the King was concerning but only in the aspect of who would fight for his possessions. As a warrior, Sforza could appreciate that politics much represented a battlefield -- just in a different sphere. Deals would be struck, betrayals would occur, and fortunes would change drastically. 

As a man of honor, Conrad Sforza had his misgivings about his liege lord. Reigning from on high on the Summit, Duke Conrad had an enigmatic reputation. It wasn't one that endeared itself to a man like Conrad who had fought and killed the abominations of the Flood Plains since the tender age of twelve. Yet he was his liege lord, Conrad had sworn an oath to serve him and more importantly he had sworn an oath to God. 

Calloused fingertips toyed with the prayer beads that hung around the Baron's neck. While the Duke's made their speeches, Sforza attempted to gauge the men infront of him. Each man had their own ambitions and behind every flowery speech, there hid a ruthless bastard. None that Sforza regarded very highly above his own master. Betrayal remained out of the question. The Barony of Lussex would rely on the gold that would come from the Summit and in order to ensure that it continued to flow, he knew where he had to throw his support. 

[i]'' My Lords and Ladies... ''[/i] Baron Sforza said rising. He took no pleasure in the brief attention that his words brought. A scowl slid over his ravaged and pockmarked jaw. [i]'' I have no aspirations for Kingship. I only wish to see the best candidate for Osteria...and there is no better man Duke Conrad. '' [/i]Perhaps that was stretching the truth but if Sforza could turn the support for Conrad from a trickle to a landslide, perhaps they could avoid bloodshed from competing claimants.

[b]Perhaps. [/b]