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	"And I -- for one -- find these practices of our institution, so repugnant in their antiquity, not only an affront to the image of our dear nation! But to democracy itself!"

	An uproar filled the alleys and halls of the Parliament building as the representative made his address. Every claim brought forward sent the whole room into a frenzy, with representatives, chiefs, senators, and governors throwing accusing hands and inflammatory gestures while the debate proceeded. 

	The issue of the week, as the Parliament had been processing tirelessly for the past four days, had caused such a turmoil in the national circuits that its subject matter was at the forefront of near every conversation. It could hardly escape news headlines, nor dodge the subject at dinner tables, where they caused rancor in such frequency that it was said every dinner fight in Bessaruga was mere continuation of the day's debates in Parliament. 

	"And you would have us overturn our institutions' practices all because of some tavern-floor rumor?" Pockets of representatives rose in applause as he made his repute, a roaring ovation to match his confidence. The senator in question, now standing proudly against this daring assault to dignity and poise, was a Vasiri man, just entering middle-age from the crestled wrinkles that hugged his facial scales, giving him just an appropriate amount of pudge to his wide-jawed physiognomy to match his stocky frame. His chipped horns -- now clearly filled with puddy and ivory fillings -- were carefully polished and refined so they gleamed so poignantly to the slightest refraction. Parliament knew him as a proud conservative, a champion of the times, not some dilettante careerist looking for a simple way to fame and fortune -- he was a Golden Boy, and around their gilded icon did all the Right of the room throw their lot around.

	"And would you, Mr. Godin, state that we aspire by a system of legalized immunity?" his opponent accused.

	"Yours -- senator -- are suggesting that our nation should implement legislation from hearsay alone!"

	"It is all [b]because[/b] of this blasted immunity that this remains 'hearsay'! You would keep and preserve the Parliament's immunity to prosecution safe to harbor the guilty among us!"

	"Nonsense!" Senator Godin barked, "This is about [b]principles![/b] And I, for one, will not have us stand idly by while you would have us subject the good men and women of this great nation's Parliament to a witch-hunt!"

	"But you [b]know it,[/b] Mister Godin -- you [b][i]know it![/i][/b] You know as well as me, as you, as all of us! I remember the headlines -- you could scarcely [b]breathe[/b] without a public uproar over it! The people deserve our faith, and I -- so ordained [b][i]by God[/i][/b] to serve Bessaruga as her representative -- will give them faith and accountability!" The scene about him roared in another applause, an opposite half the room cheering on the senator while he pleaded his case. His face beat a shining red as he gasped from air, the intensity of his speech painting his face like a beat. Senator De Rocha's gaunt, specked face profusely sweat, a radiance gleaming from him that's almost religious in intensity. He doesn't even take the time to wipe his face, only barely catching his breath before the human continues his onslaught. 

	"[i]'Emblezzlement! Scandal! Senator Purchases New Summer Home After Tax Reform Deadline Missed!'[/i] [b]Those[/b] are the headlines -- [b]those[/b] we all saw! And we know! We [b]KNOW[/b], Mister Godin! We were there! All there! We know it's gone, and lined and filled his pockets with the pennies and pounds of the people! And he lapped it up -- oh [i]yes[/i], he [b][i]lapped[/i][/b] it all up! You know it, and [i][b]all[/b][/i] of us here know it -- the corruption present in this room is something even the demagogues in Fenice would shudder at...!" 

	"That's [b]it![/b] This slanderous scandal ends [i][b]now![/b][/i] You've crossed the line, [i]De Rocha[/i]!"

	And then all Hell broke loose. 

	Representatives rose one by one, pouncing from each their chairs into the frenzy. For every one to leap headfirst into the fray, hands and arms, claws and nails into the melee rose two more to their sides, each intuitively pinning one of their arms or legs as they rose from the melee. Some threw in their lot, dragging their sorry opposition into the ruckus with a sorry senator trailing behind, dragging their feet as they shouted terrified implores to cease the rhubarb. Senators Godin and De Roxa stood hairs-widths from one another, barking like hounds in fanatical arrays of colorful, four-letter symphonies with such frequency that the two could virtually swear the paint off of the walls. Each of them were restrained, just barely, by three or four other representatives, themselves taking beatings from assorted representatives who had their own retainers -- themselves receiving thrashings in turn, and so on, endlessly, until the entire Parliament floor was dissolved into a formless riot while the Orderly and the President watched from their podiums.

	Business as usual in Parliament.

	"Order! Order! Order in the room!" The rapport of the gavel rang across the floor, each knock matching just in time with the Orderly's announcements. Little by little, bang by bang, the room unhanded one another and broke their brawls, breaking contact with one another in matching stares and scowls. The room returned to their seats, each looking a bit worse for wear, casting exhausted glances back at one another as the session continued. 

	President Lacerda, a young-looking High Elf -- insofar that any elf of reasonable age could be described as anything but -- sat comfortably in his specially-tailored reclining chair upon the back of the Presidential podium. He had six of them -- three for his office, one here, and two at his home -- and in these comfortable leather-bound chairs did his long, straight blonde hair rest itself behind its headrest, drooping along its back with his arms crossed behind his head. Lacerda, in natural High Elven demeanor, had always appeared rather pleased with himself irrespective of the occasion, and accompanied by his bright emerald eyes did he gaze over the floor of Parliament, amused at the sight before him. Parliament brawls never seemed to get old -- though secretly as he did recline deeper into his seat did he reminisce unto his mere times as but a humble senator, and although he captained this ship of Bessaruga's fate, he did find himself missing the time when he was but a humble cabin boy.

	"If there cannot be an effective verdict delivered today," The Orderly announced with a sigh, "then I will have to call for an adjournment on the topic for today's session." Some among the senators, Roxa's supporters in particular, groaned and mumbled with the announcement, but soon gave way to a universal agreement as heads nodded and pages flipped. The issue of members of Parliament granted immunity to prosecution would have to wait, much to some's chagrin, but if there was nothing to be done, then all the same.

	"Onto our next point of discussion: Ms. Madregal would like to present a case to Parliament."

	Rising and standing forth, very cautiously after the display that ruptured the whole Parliament into a brawl. The older woman was some sort of human-offshoot, adorning a rather pinkish complexion to her and matched with a silver hair color and spotted with a single beauty mark just below the right side of her lip. Madregal resided as the Chief of Department of Finance, and spent much of her waking day in near-constant arguments with the Department of Commerce and the Department of Internal Affairs. Much of her duties were adjourned to her professionalism -- to have her present a subject of her work before Parliament for their opinion was, to put it lightly, ill-boding news. 

	"As some here may know," she began, posing up her glasses -- which she found slightly ajar after the most recent rumble, "there have been a series of recent reports from various joint-stock corporations operating in Conquerdia concerning joint-stock venture securities. As reports here: [i]'the 28th, last month: Missed royalties.'[/i], [i]'the 25th, last month: Asset depreciation, missed royalties.'[/i], [i]'the 14th, this month: Joint-stock deflation, depreciation, missed royalties.'[/i]. All reported by banks and investment firms within the last fiscal month tied to ventures with operations on Conquerdia -- all with direct ties to subsidiary payments on behalf of the Government of the Dual Monarchy."

	"Damn royalists." The president remarked, fuming while he rubbed his chin. "Crownies could be holding out on us."

	"That seems unlikely." The Chief of Finance refuted, "The fact that there have been some localized outbreaks of disease in Conquerdia as of late has, without a doubt, strained their economy. This all could very well simply be natural market contraction. Even so, Conquerdia has been a reliable trading partner in times past -- I doubt that they would have anything to gain from defaulting." 

	"Even so, we must safeguard our investors." The room hummed in agreement. One senator stood up.

	"If that's the case, why bring this before Parliament?" the senator inquired.

	"Representatives on behalf of Conquerdia have yet to release any statement on their assortments of missed payments. It is unlike them to suddenly retract like this to their investors: It could be possible that they are hoping to staunch a potential recession by withholding such information. If so, we will need to launch an official inquiry before we are to make our next move."

	"I am not convinced." interjected Senator Godin, "People need to learn lessons in life -- Conquerdia needs to pay their debts." A small round of applause followed his exclamation. The President rose his hand in turn, followed by a small sigh from Madregal. She adjusted her glasses, packing up her documents and setting them unto the table.

	"If this should be the current case for the movement, I shall dispatch and issue a discrete telegramme to the Dual Monarchy in regards to these investments." The room agreed in turn, and her case was in turn waved away by a resounding vote of confidence.

	"Right then. Onto our next topic...-"

[hr]
[hider=Telegramme to Conquerdia]
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Maria Santaria Madregal,
Chief Executive of the Department of Finance,

	To their Lordship of the Dual Monarchy of Conquerdia-Vinlac, 

	Great and Good friend, I have received a series of inquiries on behalf of our mercantile class in respect to affairs concerning the mutual prosperity of our good nations. 

	It has recently come to the attention of the Department of Finance of the Fourth Bessarugan Republic hitherto that there have been a series of reports emerging from the fair nations of Conquerdia and Vinlac regarding a most distressing series of events that have befell her lands and impressed upon her peoples colossal hardships. The Republic wishes the Kingdoms and their fair peoples well through these challenging times in her histories and expresses her sincere condolences. 

	For these reasons it has been brought to our attention on behalf of the clientele of the Republic -- i.e. Ile Banque Centrale de Bessaruga, Cardista & Sons Investments, Mariquin Coal, Steel, and Manarite, and thirty-six others -- in regards to the recent troubles of payment and deflations. We acknowledge that -- as of the time of this writing -- there has been no public address in regards to these financial concerns. However, it is our obligation to our peoples that we provide answers, and so humbly make this escrivation in regards to the exact reasoning for why there exists so sudden a depreciation of such joint-venture holdings. 

	Meantime, wishing for Your Majesty a long and happy life, and for the generous and emulous People of Conquerdia and Vinlac the highest possible prosperity, I commend both to the blessing of Almighty God.

	Your Good Friend, MARIA SANTARIA MADREGAL.
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