[b]Kingdom of Beredia. Lazamênia.[/b] [img]http://www.spain.info/export/sites/spaininfo/comun/carrusel-recursos/andalucia/alhambra-granada-10203370-istock.jpg_369272544.jpg[/img] The Alhena Palace in Lazamênia was a marvelous piece of architecture. Originally a mere hillfort built by a forgotten tribe of savages, it was turned by Recawith, the first true king of Beredia, into his capital. By the time the Timlukids first conquered Beredia, the hillfort had grown into a large town. That soon became the capital of the local governor. Centuries passed and when the Beredian knights finally kicked the Timlukids for good, there was no doubt on where the new capital would be. After all Lazamênia was the largest and richest city of the realm, and its palace was the only one worth of housing the Royal House. Now, in one of the inner courtyards. Some of the most powerful men in Beredia had gathered to discuss the future of their kingdom under the pleasant shadow and breeze of the afternoon. The King himself, André-Maria. His trusted second in command, Prelate Hermogenes. Pontiff Mateus Pereira, the highest religious authority in the realm and almost a walking corpse. And Duke Pedro-Matias de Lavanca, the King's trusted lieutenant in the south. Notably absent was Queen Joaquina, who was too pregnant to do anything else besides languish in bed waiting for her water to break. “The rumors are true then?” Duke Lavanca asked hesitantly, bringing a hand to his goatee as the King placed the letter bearing the pontifical seal back in the small table center table. “Yes, the Presbyter General himself confirms it.” André-Maria replied, looking at his councilors, hands joined together in consternation. “The High Pontiff is dead.” There were no gasps of surprise or shock, His Holiness was an old man known in Beredia for his sickly disposition. Only a few short and murmured well wishes and prayers for his soul. “This couldn't have come at a worst time.” The Duke sighed, covering his gaunt face with a gloved hand. “Now the whole continent will be too busy fighting for the seat to focus on the true enemy.” “Fear not, my son.” Pontiff Pereira croaked with visible difficulty while sluggishly gesturing dismissively. “God and the Saints will intercede in our side.” “But men and steel would also do wonders for our cause.” Prelate Hermogenes replied somberly, fidgeting with the rosary in his left hand, before taking a sip of juice. The King did not allow alcohol to be served when matters of state were being discussed. Specially one as important as this, when men needed all their wits with them. “Well, we have to send someone.” The King countered, gesticulating slightly. “I doubt that we have enough influence to get one of our own elected. But we need to at least make the rest of the continent aware of the threat posed by the infidels beyond the mountains.” he paused, refilling his glass. “A High Pontiff at least interested in keeping the Timelukos at bay would lift a world of weight off our shoulders.” “We should send Bishop Ananias.” The Pontiff coughed out, covering his mouth with a napkin. “He's a good man.” The King glanced at the Prelate, as far as he was concerned the Bishop would be as good choice. But the Prelate was the one that actually understood the inner workings of the Beredian Church. “An excellent suggestion, Your Eminence.” The Prelate replied amicably, placing a hand on the Pontiff's shoulder. “I happen to know the Bishop pretty well.” He then turned to the King. “I'm sure he will do our Kingdom proud in Aldmeria. And impress upon them the necessity of further care regarding the Timelukos.” “I see no problem with the choice.” The King added. If Hermogenes thought he was a good pick then this Ananias was a good pick. “I will inform the good Bishop Ananias immediately.” The Pontiff declared, with unusual energy. “It's a long way from Ilafrânia after all.” He paused as if to regain his breath. “Now that this is dealt with.” The Duke started. “We must address the threat in the south.” “If what you say is true.” The Pontiff replied, back to his frail self. “We must act decisively.” “It is, Your Eminence!” The Duke snapped, blushing slightly soon after. “The Bandeiras are fighting raiding parties in the smaller passes and the lowlands.” He continued, more calmly this time. “Our merchants are being increasingly more harassed once they cross the border. And the traders from Sarbraz and Al-Vazan have stopped coming weeks ago. I also have reports from a few Marabeni merchants that both nations are mustering for a campaign. We need only to factor the recent marriages between the two realms and the origin of the raiders to know that we are being attacked.” “I trust your judgment, Lavanca.” The King sighed. “Even if there's no invasion being planned, we can't let these raiders wander around our southern lands. It would do good to remind them what happens to their filthy lot when they enter Beredia.” “Then do I have your leave to mobilize the southern Terços, Your Grace?” The Duke asked. “We will mobilize the entire army.” André-Maria replied, rising to his feet. “If Sarbraz and Al-Vazan are working together we will need all of our strength to fight this coming war. Come, Lavanca, Hermogenes, we need to start preparations at once.” The Duke rose up with a nod while the Prelate helped the Pontiff to rise from his seat. “I will take my leave now, Your Grace.” The Pontiff coughed again, leaning on his cane while gesturing for his aides to come to his aid. “Your blessings, Eminence.” The King said bowing his head slightly as he approached the elderly clergyman. “May God and the Saint watch over you.” The Pontiff intoned, resting his palm on the King's bald head. Before repeating the ritual on the other two men. [hider=Summary] -Beredia is under threat of invasion as a few Timlukid factions mobilize for what seems to be another invasion. -The Beredian Bishop is chosen and called to the capital to meet with the kingdom's Pontiff. The plan is to raise awareness of the Timlukid threat and get whomever is elected to send more support to Beredia. [/hider]