[center][h1][color=008000]Arkronia - Royal palace[/color][/h1][/center] Drokon-Al stared down the giant window of the cabinet meeting hall. The governmental meeting room offered an excellent view of the palace’s courtyard and the grand entrance gate. From his place up high he could see the first delegations enter the palace compound. From the small fox-like creatures of the Vulpin to the large Ruline from the Raethian Republic. The other delegations would soon arrive for the coronation ceremony too. With the evening falling the old steward could not help to wonder if the kingdom of Arkron was seeing her last ray of lights as well. The grey death was spreading across her people and the once unchallenged superpower was heading towards her biggest crisis in history. Many of the Arkronian civilians lived in fear of the grey death while many of the Akronian leadership lived in fear of losing power. If Drokon-Al knew one thing, it was that fear offered bad council. The old Arkronian finally turned around and walked towards his seat at the conference table. All ministers had gathered once again to discuss the most prominent matters during the evening session. He looked around the table and knew that all men gathered were thinking the same, that the crown prince is too sick to become the next king and yet that he is the last member of his bloodline. Usually the Arkronian nobles would have fought over the topic of which house would deliver the queen for the wedding ceremony but they all knew that the crown prince would not be able to have physical contact with a member of the other sex. The risk of spreading the sickness was simply too great. No, all these men at the table were thinking of which house should become the next royal bloodline. [color=008000]“Alan Arkronis” [/color] The ministers responded with the same greeting. A formality that opened all conversations in Arkronian culture. The second formality was the establishment of the agenda for the meeting. Lots of topics were going to be discussed this night as the management of the kingdom of Arkron was a complicated and never ending task. [color=008000]“Ministers of the great Arkronian nation. The first topic of this meeting is the end of the civil war in the Hegemony of Canthor. I will give the word to our minister of foreign affairs Horish-Namar”[/color] spoke the steward. [color=008000]“Ministers of the great Akronian nation. The hegemon has conquered the last republican stronghold, the city of Irrida and declared the final victory. It is safe to assume that the hegemon has solid control over the territory of the hegemony of Canthor. The Arkonian nation has invested significant resources in securing the victory of the Hegemon faction and we should ensure that those investments are repaid in full.” [/color] [color=008000]“It took them 50 years. Even after extensive military reforms with our guidance. If the civil war in Canthor shows us one thing, then it is that humans make poor soldiers.” [/color] Proclaimed Ekram-Rhas. Ohrahm-Braz, minister of intelligence took the word. [color=008000]“It is unwise to underestimate any race, lord Ekram-Rhas. Informers have reported that the Hegemon’s forces have made significant improvements to the capabilities and organisation over the years. With our help of course. It will be wise to remind the Hegemon that our friendship and involvement made sure that he can now rule over all of Canthor. ”[/color] [color=008000]“Hmmpf. Since when is the great Ohrahm-Braz such a fan of insignificant creatures created by the gods of chaos?”[/color] Responded the minister of the army annoyed. [color=008000]“I am merely stating that we live in a hostile world and that we should not underestimate our vassals. Under our great leadership they can prosper and we should always make sure that out relations remain mutually beneficial, so that all they learn from us won’t be used against our own nation.” [/color] Drokon-Al looked at both the minister of the army and minister of intelligence as they got into a rather pointless argument about the value of humans. The viewpoints of Ekram-Rhas greatly concerned the steward, he was too radical for his taste. A warmonger that longed for the glory his father earned during the 3th rebellion but could never gain due to the mostly peaceful times. At least the minister of the army did not really get along with Ohrahm-Braz well. It would be bad if those two men would unite their forces to present a unified radical front. After forcing both arguming men to silence Drokon-Al took the word again. [color=008000] “There are still some elements we need to discuss concerning the situation in Canthor. First, there is an invitation to celebrate their victory. We will need to send a proper diplomatic mission. I propose that minister Horish-Namar of foreign relations and minister Ragid-Can of trade will attend the Canthorian celebrations and see to it that their end of the deals we’ve made.” [/color] Both ministers bowed their heads in agreement. The steward continued with the next topic regarding the civil war. [color=008000]“The hegemon has requested from all nations that any rogue elements be apprehended. Minister of intelligence, do we know where such rogue elements are currently located?”[/color] [color=008000]“Yes, steward. We are keeping tabs on several of the republican leaders. Many have fled Canthor and are currently hiding in neighboring nations. I would like to make a suggestion on how to handle the situation. In my modest opinion we should seek them out and offer them refuge. We never know when the need arises to create a civil war in Canthor. Just see it as a little insurance policy.” [/color] [color=008000]“Are you sure about that? If republican loyalists are spotted within our territory that will put a strain on our relationship with the Hegemony.”[/color] Responded the Horish-Namar. [color=008000]“I am well aware of that minister. That is why we should hide them in various other countries. Maybe send them on a nice holiday to the Skekari beaches. I’ve heard they have beautiful beaches and a pleasant climate. Of course, we would not all send them to the same spot. Spread our investments wisely so that we can always insert some capable rogue agents when the need arises.”[/color] The ministers nodded in agreement. [color=008000]“Alright, then we will move on to the next topic of our meeting. The impact of the grey death on our nation.”[/color] Spoke the old steward as he commanded the room. He knew this was going to be a difficult topic. [color=008000]“We’ll start off with a status report from our armed forces. Minister Ekram-Rhas, you have the word.”[/color] The minister of the army looked at the documents before him before he spoke. [color=008000] “First corps reports 10 deaths, and 122 sick. All assumed to have the grey death. All sick soldiers have been put in isolation and their regiments are put in isolation too. Second corps reports 18 deaths and 185 sick. Third corps reports 9 deaths and 98 sick.” [/color] After a long summary the Ekram-Rhas finally came to a conclusion. [color=008000]“The current death toll in the army is 289 and over 3000 soldiers and officers are reported sick. 57 regiments have been affected by the grey death placed in quarantine. The current policy is that if no new cases of grey death pop up for two weeks in a regiment will be available again for active service.”[/color] Next was the minister of the navy Ridhouan-Tag. [color=008000]“ Seven more warships have been put to harbor due to cases of grey death among their crews. All affected crews have been put into isolation. So far 133 sailors and officers have died and over 900 are sick. 27 ships are currently unable to set sail due to crews being in isolation or short staffed.”[/color] After the minister of the navy finished his report Ikra-sha, the minister of economic affairs took the word. [color=008000]“Commercial activities across the entire kingdom are in decline. Reports state that many citizens are decreasing their spending on everything except life’s necessities. However more alarming is the rapid increase in food prices. Wealthy merchants are buying up large quantities of grain and even go as far as buying future harvests. All in fear that the grey death will result in food shortages. For the small artisans, soldiers and other low to medium income families getting the daily required amount of food becomes an increasingly more difficult undertaking.”[/color] [color=008000]“Yes, I am well aware of that development” Responded Bakhal-Amar, minister of the interior. “Reports from our police forces state an increase in feelings of discontent among the human underclass. There has been a slight increase in crime. However one event is concerning. Two days ago a grain caravan was assaulted by a band of human thiefs. Our officers have tracked the grain and believe it was distributed freely by the Forbidden tribe among the human underclass in the capital. It is safe to assume that the forbidden tribe will exploit this situation to strengthen their influence.”[/color] [color=008000]“Of course they will! That is what you get when you allow such lowly creatures within our society.” [/color]Replied Ekram-Rhas. [color=008000]“Humans can’t be trusted” [/color] [color=008000]“That is enough! We are aware of your point of view minister. However, we the Arkronian people were created by the gods to bring guidance to the other races. It is our divine duty to lead them to the path of light.”[/color] Spoke Cardinal Orign-Eltar, minister of religious affairs with a raised voice. [color=008000]“I suggest that you do not stray away from the path that Ak’ron, the god of order has given us! Otherwise you might risk falling out of favor.”[/color] It was a clear warning from the highest religious leader in the kingdom. With the end of the royal bloodline on the horizon, falling out of favor with the gods was not something an ambitious man like Ekram-Rhas could afford. The minister of the army quickly toned down on his remarks regarding the other races for the remainder of the meeting. Suddenly Ohrahm-Braz, minister of intelligence rose from his seat. [color=008000]“You will have to excuse me, ministers. I’ll have some urgent business to take care off.”[/color] And before any of the others were able to protest his sudden departure, the small Arkronian had left the conference room. The rest of the evening the other ministers discussed the final topic of the meeting, the coronation ceremony of crown prince Rakon-Da. The festivities would open with an official banquet on the first evening. It would provide a setting to socialize with the various world leaders and would of course be an opportunity to impress the world with the excellent cuisine of the Royal Palace. On the second day in the late morning the official coronation ceremony would take place followed by the pledge of fealty of the vassals to the new king. This was the moment where the delegations would also hand over the many gifts they had brought with them for the new king. This event would be followed by a military parade. The second day would end with another banquet, feast and fireworks. [center][h1][color=008000]Arkronia - The palm beach bath house[/color][/h1][/center] Personal hygiene is important within the Arkronian culture. Not only was bathing considered a social activity, it was also closely tied in with the Arkronian view on medicine and health care. Arkronian healers share the idea that washing yourself and relaxing can cure many ailments. Often bathing activities were complimented with various forms of massages that include medicinal oils. Needless to say that in a time of plague, bathing is seeing a surge in popularity. Many large villa’s have their own private baths while the large cities also host a variety of public bath houses. Some of those are small and sober places that cater towards the lower classes while others are large luxurious buildings which offer a wide variety of bathing area’s. In general Arkronian bath houses consisted of a large hot bath, a smaller cold bath and an area where the bathers could get their various massages and skin treatments. Another important part of the typical Arkronian bathhouse was the courtyard. Every bath house offered a garden closed off by a high wall from viewers where the visitors could walk and relax on various types of benches. The Arkronian bath house is strictly separated for the different sexes. Bathing is an activity that is done in nudity and being nude in the proximity of members of the other sex you’re not acquainted too is considered indecent and obscene behavior in the Arkronian society. The Arkronian state even went as far as to outlaw such indecent behavior in their extensive moral laws. The Palm Beach Bath house is the most luxurious of bathhouses within the capital. All the others pale in comparison when it comes to the sheer beauty and size of this Bath House. Her exquisite mosaic floors and walls are unparalleled throughout the country. And yet that is not what the Palm Beach is famous for. Unlike any other, Palm Beach bath house offers more than just the regular bathing facilities. This specific place has raised the bar by integrating various other elements such as a steam bath and hot saunas. However what truly makes Palm Beach remarkable was the fact that they offered private baths. These rooms could be booked by groups or individuals who wanted a more private experience. Often merchants would invite their business partners to discuss deals away from the ever listening ears of their competitors or the social elite would meet up to gossip. However there was also a dark side to these private baths. As the services that could be acquired in these private rooms went a little bit further than your average relaxing massage. In Palm Beach the Arkronian elite could indulge in the pleasures that are frowned upon by society and prohibited by law. Drawn by the pretence of privacy, many of the most virtuous Arkronians would give in to their darkest of vices once the prying eyes of the public could not see them. However the truth about Palm Beach Bath house was that regardless of the amount of privacy the place offered, Peatyr Breathnach, the owner would always know what his clientele was doing. Some considered the Vulpin just an exploiter of brothels while others understood the value of the information he gathered. In a society built around orderly and virtuous behavior, knowing the darkest secrets of the social elite made you a powerful man. Just the idea that your sinful behavior could become public gossip scared many of the Arkronians into doing his bidding. The Vulpin lured his victims in with the pleasures of their wildest dreams and then playfully reminded them that he knew what they had done. Knowledge is power and if you know the right kind of information you practically own people. Especially in a society where a public image of order and virtuous behavior is extremely important. As usual Peatyr spend his evening in what he called his office. The only private bath room without secret spots to peek through. The room was relatively large and everything was centered around the round bath in the middle. Against the walls of the room were several sofa’s and tables where he and his guests could relax. Near the entrance door was a large wooden cabinet which holded a variety of alcoholic beverages from across the continent. The ceiling consisted of a large glass cupola to let the daylight in. However since the sun had set, the cupola provided an excellent view of the night sky. The owner found himself gazing at the stars with a glass of fine Skekari wine in his hand. He recently had acquired some very interesting information about the selection procedure and criteria for if the crown prince would succumb to his disease and the cardinals would have to choose a new royal bloodline. Combine that with the fact that half of the cardinals are regular customers of Peatyr’s offered services and the Vulpin was in an excellent position to influence the decision making. However, he still had to find the right buyer for it. His string of thoughts was suddenly interrupted by 3 short knocks on the door. [color=008000]“Enter”[/color] commanded the Vulpin as he turned around, only to watch one of his human servants coming through the door. [color=008000]“There is a man who would like to speak with you mister Breathnach. He is Arkronian sir.”[/color] The Vulpin stared intrigued at his servant. It was unlikely for any of his important Arkronian clients to disturb him at this hour. [color=008000] “Does this Arkronian have a name?”[/color] [color=008000]“He did not tell his name. He merely stated that he was looking for a merchant of knowledge and was willing to pay the gold price.”[/color] Responded the servant. [color=008000]“Isn’t that interesting. A mystery guest that seeks me out. Well, make sure he’s undressed and pour the man a drink of his liking.”[/color] [color=008000]“Yes, mister Breathnach”[/color] said the servant as he closed the door behind him. Peatyr folded his arms on the side of the bath, resting his head on it. He wagged his tail slowly through the warm water creating circles through the movement. The Vulpin could not help to wonder who was looking for a business transaction this hour. His eyes tracked the movement of the door as it opened again as the servant let the guest in. Through the door stepped a rather unremarkable Arkronian male. He was rather small for an Arkronian and did not possess the athletic physique that many Arkronians strive for. It was a rather disappointing sight to a connoisseur of the male body. Especially when you factor in the fact that the guest was lacking some distinctive male attributes. However Peatyr instantly knew who his guest was and that he could not treat him lightly. “color=008000]“So, the stories I heard about you are true. You aren’t really king material. Offspring would be rather difficult to produce with your….condition, Ohrahm-Braz.” [/color] Peatyr paused a bit to judge his guest’s reaction but soon continued. [color=008000]“I’m afraid that even the healing properties of my bath house can’t cure your ailment.”[/color] Joked the Vulpin. Ohrahm-Braz, the Arkronian minister of intelligence walked to the cabinet next to the door and went through the fine selection of wines. Purposely he opened up the most expensive bottle and calmly poured himself a glass. The jab about his lacking masculinity did not seem to get to him at all. Ohrahm-Braz seemed to be extremely confident with his own body. Calmly he walked up to the Vulpin who was still resting his head on the side of the bath. Ohrahm-Braz only stopped inches before the owner and looked down upon Peatyr Breathnach before beginning to speak. [color=008000]“Of course those stories are true. I told everyone about my birth condition, everyone who wanted to listen and those who refused, well I shoved it in their face, visually. I paraded naked through the royal palace. Symbodically waving my piece in front of the king. You see Peatyr, everybody thinks that being born with a disfigured body is some sort of weakness. Something the likes of you can exploit. The truth is that you can’t change what you are. You can only try to hide it or embrace it. Those are the only options to choose from. I don’t need to tell you which choice I made.” [/color] Peatyr looked up and stared in what seemed to be nothingness. He could barely lift his head high enough to look at the minister’s eyes while his jaw dropped as he listened to the words Ohrahm-Braz sproke. Instinctively the Vulpin moved backward just to regain eye contact with the Arkronian that towered above him. He could not help to notice that the minister possessed a limitless amount of confidence. Ohrahm-Braz’s presence was dominating like the pitch black clouds before a severe thunderstorm. As Peatyr made way the Arkronian minister stepped into the bath and seated himself on the spot where the Vulpin sat just moments ago. For a moment he closed his eyes and enjoyed the hot water on his grey skin. Suddenly Ohrahm-Braz opened his eyes and looked Peatyr deeply in his eyes. [color=008000]“You are going to arrange the early passage to the afterlife of someone for me.” [/color] With disbelief, the Vulpin looked at the minister. This was not the kind of request people would generally ask of him. Assasination wasn’t really Peatyr’s trade. After a moment the owner of the Palm Beach Bath house regained his composure and was capable of responding. [color=008000]“That sort of business is not really my area of expertise. I believe you have perfectly capable people in your employ….”[/color] Before he could finish his sentence Ohram-Braz suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Peatyr by the head and pushed the unsuspecting Vulpin underwater. Desperately he tried to fight the powerful grip of an Arkronian but a small Vulpin was no match. The hot water filled his lungs and blood pounded behind his eyes as Peatyr desperately fought for survival. Suddenly he was dragged through the water and thrown on the side of the bath. Disoriented Peatyr rolled on his back and couched heavily to get the water out of his lungs. For a moment, he was unaware of what had just happened, the Vulpin layed on the floor gasping for air. As he regained some of his composure Peatyr stared at the Arkronian who towered above him. [color=008000]“I….I don’t fear death”[/color] Sputtered the Vulpin. Ohrahm-Braz sat down upon his victim and grabbed him by the throat. Slowly he moved his head and whispered in Peatyr’s ear. [color=008000]“I know. You’re a devil and the only thing a devil fears is getting kicked back to hell.”[/color] [color=008000]“You don’t know what my hell is.”[/color] protested the owner of the bath house. [color=008000]“On the contrary. It is so obvious that even an Ascarian can figure it out after only a century of thinking about it. You’re a fucking Vulpin. Born in some muddy shithole spending your summers hunting rabbits and your winters hungry. You were born an insignificant nobody with nothing and look at you now. The owner of the largest bath house of the kingdom. The merchant of information. More coins in your pocket than you can spend in a lifetime and I can take it all away whenever I want. Don’t you ever forget who is keeping the authorities off your back. The minister of the Interior would love to shut your little pleasure palace down. Never forget who’s little pet you are!”[/color] Peatyr knew the minister was right. His Establishment violated more Arkronian laws then could be written down in one book. The sad truth was that the only reason the Palm beach bath house could remain in business was as long as Peatyr Breathnach remained of value to the likes of Ohrahm-Braz. [color=008000]“Who needs to die?”[/color] [color=008000]“The crown prince, During the opening banquet.”[/color] [center][h1][color=008000]Arkronia - Bacchus Brew Tavern.[/color][/h1][/center] The light of torches casted shadows through the tavern hall of Bacchus Brew, hiding some of the patrons in the shadows while others basked in the light. The tavern got his name from an old god that was once worshipped by the humans who lived in this part of Mycoria. However those practices and beliefs were mostly left behind when the Arkronians arrived. There is however a small group of humans that still cling to these ancient ways. A secret society whose name is only whispered when no Arkronian ears are around to hear it. The forbidden tribe. [color=008000]“We did good.” Proclaimed a man to his companions when he raised his pull of ale.[/color] [color=008000]“For humanity!”[/color] Proclaimed the others. Carl Jacobson, a large build human with short black hair, looked at the three others who were with him in Bacchus Brew. They were the core members of The forbidden tribe in the capital of the kingdom of Arkron and some would consider them a more radical element. Just a few days ago they had robbed a grain transport and distributed the food for free among the human underclass of the city. The humans might not get sick from the plague but they were suffering many of the negative backlashes from it. Rising food prices, prejudice from the Arkronian population who rumoured that the grey death was of human origin and much more. [color=008000]“We need to grow bigger. We can’t help our brothers and sisters with just the four of us.”[/color] Continued Carl. [color=008000]“We don’t have enough weapons. Getting them on the black market is extremely difficult with Arkronian police all over the place.”[/color] Carl turned towards the only female companion in his small group. He valued the bright youngster who was always quick to give her opinion and never afraid of asking the difficult questions. The black haired human often viewed her as the daughter he never had. [color=008000]“I’m aware of that Lisa. However with the coronation ceremony drawing in close, the city will be filled with delegations from all over Mycoria. Not every vassal likes the throne. With this plague running rampant among the Arkronians I am sure there will be parties interested in throwing some more fuel on the fire” [/color] Lisa took a large gulp from her pull and looked the leader of her group in the eyes. She knew all too well the the Arkronians weren’t loved by everyone but would there be any country stupid enough to start mingling in their internal affairs? If the Arkronians would find out there could be dire consequences for the parties involved. [color=008000]“Who are you going to ask for aid?”[/color] Asked Lisa. [color=008000]“I am going to dispatch messengers to the Yuravians, The Dominion of Epha and the Saa’Kaleed Abiat. One of our friends works as a gardner in the Royal palace and he will deliver the invitations to meet us here.”[/color] “How do you know they won’t betray us?” Asked Lisa. [color=008000]“I don’t invite the Vulpin.”[/color] [@Datadogie] [@Yam I Am] [@Gowia] [hider= An invitation for the Saa’kaleed Abiat, Yuravian Confederation and The Dominion of Epha] Hello, With the plague running rampant through the Arkronian people their power is in decline. We believe that this situation offers an opportunity for all other races to regain their freedom from these grey oppressors. We, the humans of Arkronia seek out the help of all who hate these grey invaders and are looking for opportunities to work together for our common goal. Meet us at the Bacchus Brew tavern so that we can discuss how to beat our common enemy. The forgotten tribe. [/hider] [center][h1][color=008000]Arkronia - Royal palace - Start of the festivities[/color][/h1][/center] It was his big day and yet it didn’t feel like it. In fact Rakon-Da felt terrible. Not only because he was sick but also because his coronation would be rather pointless. The healers hadn’t much hope about him recovering from the grey death and even if he did, he would be king in nothing except name. A figurehead, forced to ascend a throne by the law he could never do justice. Those who survived this plague were often crippled psychically and mentally for life. As the many palace servants raced around him to do the final preparations for the opening banquet Rakon-Da just stared at the throne as it loomed over him. At best his reign would be short, at worst his reign would be the one that would go down in the history books as the most pointless that ever existed. The crown prince could not help but wonder why the gods have given him such a cruel fate. [color=008000]”Your Highness, please remain in your quarters until the evening starts. You will need your strength for when the grand hall is filled with the rulers and nobility from all across our realm.”[/color] Spoke Drokon-Al, the steward of Arkron. Rakon-Da turned his head and looked at the one man who was leading their glorious nation in the absence of a king. The crown prince could not help but to give the old man a faint smile. Not because he valued his concern or compassion but for the absurd fate that the gods had chosen for the great Arkronian nation. His father had passed away, Rakon-Da himself was too sick and the steward was in his final days before retirement. Who would be left by the end of this year to lead their nation through this crisis? [color=008000]“I am alright. The healers are preparing an extract of several plants to help me get through the evening. It will ease my pain and give me energy. Just live through the coming days and the great kingdom of Arkron can pretend to have a king.”[/color] Said the crown prince with sadness in his voice. [color=008000]”That is what our laws command us to do. The next one in line must ascend the throne, regardless of the question if he is fit to rule.” [/color] Spoke the Stewart. [color=008000]”I wonder if those laws are any good when they put a sick man on a throne when the nation is standing before it’s greatest crisis.”[/color] [color=008000]”Still i’d rather have a sick man as the leader of our glorious nation than Ekram-Rhas.[/color] responded Drokon-Al. [color=008000]”Yes, that man will run the kingdom quicker into the ground than any plague can do. You better make sure that he will never ascend the throne. Only bloodshed and chaos can come from his reign. I’ll be off to my chambers now. I’ll heed your advice and take some rest before the banquet will start.” [/color] The old Arkronian steward looked as the crown prince left the grand hall. He knew Rakon-Da’s rule won’t be long. After he passes away, a new royal bloodline would be chosen and there weren’t many Arkronian noble families who he deemed capable and desirable for such a task. Drokon-Al could only hope that the gods would not choose house Rhaskozikan for the new royal bloodline. As the many palace servants cleared the hall after completing the final preparations Drokon-Al looked around. In front of the stairs to the throne was the large table of the crown prince. Two seats were placed at it with appropriate distance to each other as a measure to prevent spreading the grey death further. At the other side of the crown prince’s table were the seats for the delegation of the Aegire Oligarchy. A nation the crown wishes to strengthen her relationship with. To the sides of the crown prince's table where the tables of the ministers and the Cardinals. Arguably the most powerful men in the kingdom of Arkron. Close to the tables of the Arkronian leadership the delegations of the vassals were seated. Some were held in high regard while others were distrusted. However all were members of the realm and subjects of the crown. Their attendance was demanded and they must be placed according to their statue within the grand hall. The grand hall was filled with neatly decorated tables. Endless rows of expensive porcelain plates, silverware and crystal wine glasses filled the tables. Servants took their places and the musicians did the final tuning of their instruments. With all set in place, the banque could be opened as planned. At the sign of the master ceremony the musicians started to play. The steward, Arkronian ministers and cardinals all took their seats before the guards opened the elegantly decorated doors that gave entrance to the grand hall. First the Arkronian aristocracy would enter. Every high born that entered through the door was announced by name and taken to their seats by a servant. The entry was as methodically planned as anything in the Arkronian nation. First the Aristocracy would be seated, followed by the delegations of the vassal states. Next up would be the lower aristocracy, military leaders and members of the clergy. The last guest to enter would be the few low born who were invited. Many of the most successful merchants were of humble birth but had acquired vast amounts of wealth and influence in the Arkronian state. When all guests were finely seated, the arrival of the crown prince would be announced. The official ceremony had finally begun.