[centre][b]The Senate, Maj'Dwaremburg, Central Libor, Mardithia[/b][/centre]
[centre][img]http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2011/138/d/9/the_temple_of_artemis_by_pervandr-d3gme7z.jpg[/img][/centre]

Senator Manius Gratius was not best pleased. Standing as he was, with all eyes on him, he allowed the deathly silence to pervade the air and thicken the tension. His eyes roamed all over the great chamber, making eye contact with every face he came across, and he paused for an extra few seconds when he found himself staring into the cold eyes of the High Thian himself.

The High Thian did not make it his business to come into the Senate much, but on this occasion he had chosen to do so, and Senator Manius could see why. The crisis in question was the worst ever faced by Mardithia, and the High Thian could not be expected to make a decision alone. The old Senator’s eyes eventually settled on the little dwarf standing proudly in the centre of the chamber. For his small stature, he was quite an impressive sight. It was clear that he understood Maridthian respect for fine clothes and status, for he had come dressed in the finest regalia.

“I do believe…” Manius slowly began, his voice echoing in the silence of the great chamber, “that what our dwarven allies call us to…” his eyes bored into the standing dwarf, “is suicide and the destruction of Mardithia and all civilisation and sovereignty in these lands for many, many centuries to come!” there was a roar of agreement from Manius’ side, equalled in vigour by those disagreeing who sat opposite him.

“’tis true! ‘tis true!”

“Yeah yeah!”

 “Ridiculous!” another shout sounded.

 “Hear ye! Hear ye!” 

“Coward!”

“What our dwarven allies call us to...” his voice was drowned out by the cacophony of noise which rattled the chamber, until the High Thian raised a hand and silence reigned once more.

“What our dwarven allies call us to is in no way wise or timely. We are not capable, in our current form, to take on the elves and all their allies. We are as certain to be destroyed as a ship in the midst of a storm surrounded by pirates. We must bide our time and strike once ready, and ready we are not!” Manius took a seat as the shouts of agreement and disagreement rose once more. They were quickly silenced, however, when the High Thian stood.

Magnus ‘the Old Wolf’ Feuertarga glared at all those seated within the great senate chamber. The pillars of marble, carved and decorated by the very best, seemed to shrivel under his gaze, and the very mosaic floor upon which the dwarven ambassador stood, with all the colours and displays of Mardithian splendour, appeared to tremble ever so slightly, as if to escape the chilling gaze of the lord of Mardithia.

“We have argued long, and the debate is endless.” He said simply, his voice calm and cold, “the time has come to vote, to decide whether we shall by our ally stand, or if we shall keep our peace and hope that our enemies will keep their peace.” He waved his hand, signalling for the senators to disperse, there was to be no more debating on the matter. Those who left through the right exit were voting in favour of going to war, and those who left through the door on the left voted against it. It was not clear from watching what the outcome would be, they would have to wait for the count and the speaker to announce.

It was not more than ten minutes before the chamber was once again packed with senators, and the wait for the count began. All was silent as the speaker, Flavius Antonius, stood.

“While the count for that vote goes ahead, it would appear that another ambassador, this one from Attolia, has arrived not more than an hour past the clock. He awaits your lordship’s permission for an audience.” The speaker looked towards the High Thian who signalled for him to allow the ambassador into the room. The dwarf had been escorted away to make himself comfortable until the decision of the Senate was announced, and thus the Senate waited for the new arrival. 

The Attolian ambassador was escorted into the chamber by two scribes, a scroll in his hands. He stopped in the middle of the chamber and turned until he was facing the High Thian and the speaker.

“Speak, Attolian, what brings you to Mardithia?” Flavius demanded, his voice as thunder and eyes glinting like steel.