[center][h1]Second Rhaetian Republic[/h1][/center]
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The First Consul tugged the front of his robe down and shrugged the heavy material forward so that it rested more comfortably on his shoulders. It was a raw early-spring Rhaetian morning, with the temperature barely hovering below ten degrees; the light had a cold, bleakly clear quality, as if you could cut yourself on the blue of the sky. 

He walked slowly over to the heavy curtain and opened it with a quick flick of his wrist, the heavy lead balls that held the fabric in place clacked loudly, whistling tunelessly as he did so. Outside he paused to take in the view - a panoramic vista of Rhungora - and breathed deeply of the wind that blew down from the mountains; his breath a blast of white mist in the still morning air. 

Below him, spread out like a painters dream, was the city of Rhungora. The First Consuls apartment had been built into the side of the Great Forum and Senate - both buildings split from each other by a long narrow pool of water - and served as the home of the Republics elected leader. Even as he felt his bare feet against the night cooled marble he took a moment to enjoy the very best part of his day, the sunrise.

It struck the mountain tops first, the peaks flaring like so many giant torches as the sun lit the snow caps. Minute by minute the sunlight moved swiftly down the tree darkened slopes - highlighting the deep green of the forest - like a world being reborn. It never got old.

He felt the heat suddenly wash across his face as the sun touched the Senate Chamber, the highest of all the buildings in Rhungora. The dome, built of stone but sheathed in copper and trimmed with silver, flared like the mountain peaks. Below him the city itself was hidden from a view, an almost inky black pool among the hills that surrounded it.  

The high mansions appeared first; white washed walls, tall thin trees and nearly red tiled rooves crowned the hills and slowly marching down the hills until, at long last, the sun hit the city proper. A thousand streets, crowded in upon by three storied white homes, numberless towers and copper domes, crisscrossed a maze of canals and the two rivers whose blue waters had lit up; their deep blue colour shooting away in three directions, marking their passage from the mountains toward the sea.

He let out the breath that he had been holding and held out a hand. A servant, waiting quietly out of sight behind another curtain, hurried forward and gave him a crystal glass filled with wine. 

"The Senators are here, First Consul." The servant said as he withdrew into the apartment. 

"Send them in." 

There was a gentle tapping on the marble floor and a door opened onto the terrace from the main Senate Chamber. A guardsman - his cloak a rich purple and fastened with gold - glanced in, caught the First Consuls nod, and then stood aside as three Senators stepped onto the terrace. 

"First Consul Dosit." They said in unison, dipping their heads in greeting; Rhaetians did not shake hands.

"Senator Tul Bisner, a pleasure as always." Dosit greeted a tall male who bore a unique blue tinge to his skin; broad shoulders and a vicious scar down the left side of his face - dissecting one milky white eye - hinting at his profession before entering politics. The male was a fierce Royalist and had waged war in the name of the King.

"Senator Luunri Greanad, nice to see you again." The senator returned his smile. She was about shoulder height on him, shorter than most Ruline, but all the more dangerous for it. Those who underestimated the slim, silver tusked female, did so at their own peril. Here was the greatest threat to Rhaetian loyalty to the crown - a Ruline determined to chart her own destiny - and she made no secret of her desire to see influence of the crown curtailed. 

And Senator Sessi Dren, welcome back." Strong white teeth flashed in the narrow face, canines tipped with silver. She was among those who belonged to the third faction in Rhaetia, the same faction Dosit had come from. Effectively considered neutral, they did not fall one way or the other among Royalist or Republican, but their numbers had been dwindling lines began to get drawn in the sand.

Together, the three of them represented the three most powerful factions in the senate. There were independents of course, a couple of small fringe factions that held no weight, and of course, the First Consul. Officially, he belonged to no party and served as the binding agent for all. That was becoming increasingly difficult as voices of dissent grew louder and the Arkronain Crown teetered precariously on the edge of ruin.

"Thank you for the invite, Dosit, I love coming up here." Dren purred as she stepped up to edge of the balcony, long slender fingers caressing the intricately carved handrails. "Always a treat."

"Yes, always nice to get an invite, but let's cut to the chase." Bisner, ever to the point, had clasped his hands behind his back and was standing with the easy stance of a fighter. "Forgive my abruptness, but I believe we need to get a delegation on the move. We're already a week behind."

That much was true. The Senate had debated around in circles about who they should send and, in the end, the only thing they had agreed upon was that someone definitely needed to go. In the end the four who stood on the balcony had declared an emergency council, sent the rest of the Senators home and then held a hurried council before deciding to vote on it in the morning.

"Right, of course," Dosit flashed the imposing ex-soldier a quick smile and was rewarded with a small twitch at the corner of the others mouth. "We do need to send someone."

"Well I suggest we don't send someone who wants to rip the whole damn system down." Bisner plowed right in, his eyes fixed on Greanad as he spoke. There was no love lost between the two and she scowled back at him.

"Of course, we might as well send a royal ass licker instead and make them think they can walk all over us, as per usual." She snarled back. Dosit raised a hand quickly to calm the two. He had known it would likely turn into a verbal slug fest between the two and was prepared.

"I suggest we send Senator Dren." He nodded at the neutral who shrugged in agreement. "Neither of you will support sending the other and I will not be attending. Someone will have to keep this ship of state on course while we still can." He glared at the two faction leaders who had the good sense to look somewhat embarrassed.

"I would be delighted to go." Dren gave them all a smile that lit up her face. "See what we can accomplish without committees and voting!"

"You're advocating for Empire now?" Dosit teased her and was rewarded with a dismissive look. 

"Of course not, but you have to admit it sure makes things simpler. I do get tired of everyone yelling at each other until we've battered the other side in submission." She massaged her temples. "Really tired of it."

The other three either smiled, rolled their eyes, or grunted in acknowledgement. The fact that Rhaetia had somehow even ended up a Republic was still a bit baffling to them all. It had been born in blood when the Arkronian created noble order had been decimated, but somehow the link to the Crown had never been quite thrown off. 

"So, we're agreed, Dren will go?" Dosit asked. He held up a hand, followed by Dren. The other two raised their hands quickly, trying to out do the other in a show of support. "It's official then."

A scribe, seated at a small stone table in the apartment of the First Consul took note of the vote, but not the conversation itself. The apartment was one of the few places of government that no conversation was ever recorded. This served to protect security and privacy alike, though Dosit had no doubt the silent servants would quickly be rushing to tell their families of the vote.

"I'll leave at once then." Dren was muttering to herself as she looked over the city which was now fully engulfed in sunlight. "Ride overland to Krullal and take ship for Arkronia."

"That would be best, yes. I'll have a dozen guardsmen go with you. We need not send anything lavish. The Republic is hardly known for grand displays. Take a couple of scribes as well. We need to know everything that happens." Dosit said as he sipped from his wine. "The winds of change are blowing and we must known which way they will go."