[h3]In Alveby Palace; Orrian Corfina, Dimitrius, Arel Elmys & Catrina Schurman[/h3]


The evening was warm, moths danced around the candles in the centre of the table, let in through the windows, flung open to allow a cooling breeze to stir the meeting room. The meeting room was not large, walls adorned with hanging tapestries showing scenes of Imperial glory. A pair of bardiche armed Sahalky guards stood by the door, silent and to attention.


Orrian seemed to be in a fine mood this evening, thumbs tucked into his belt, back resting against the side of the empty hearth, a flagon of ale on the mantlepiece. The Monarch was standing, though not being the most caught-up in ceremony, he had made it clear he was happy for anyone else to sit and Arel Elmys was resting in one of the blackened wooden armchairs, a flagon of ale in front of him, "Now is the summer of our sweet content," Arel declared once the relevant people were all in the room and had been provided with something to drink, "The tide of this conflict has turned in our favour, but there is still the potential for this to unravel if one of the Southern human states decides to stab us in the back when our troops are elsewhere. Estornen are a potential risk, though the greater danger comes from the Doel Union, particularly given they have, by all accounts, good relations with D'Ambois, who is becoming a realistic contender for the Throne in the East."


"So, we need to do something about the Union," Orrian declared, "And invasion is not on the cards. If we move the troops from the front, Voron will strike at us."


Catrina stood by the open window, the gentle wind it provided doing little to alleviate the flush of her anxiety. Her drink served as distraction for fidgeting hands, leaving her cup already half empty in the short time it took the conversation to fall on the topic of her homeland. “Sire,” She began, differentially lowering her head to Orrain. 


“Not all my countrymen are so eager to tie themselves to the pirates that have long plagued our ports and navy.” Her polite smile remained fixed as her eyes briefly landed on Arel. “No steward, assembly, or province has sworn alliance to any claimant. Doel's borders remain open for trade, opportunities to prove your cause a worthwhile one are plenty.”



"Let's hope the sensible heads in the Union prevail," Elmys sat forward, steepling his fingers on the table, "However, I was aware of the excitement some months ago when the then Captain D'Ambois, under a Union Letter of Marque, managed to do the unthinkable and capture a Calarian Treasure Fleet Galleon," he gave a chuckle, "Back then, had anyone asked me, I'd have said we'd never hear that woman's name again, but that woman has the spirit of a Horse Lord! She would probably be bold enough to encourage the Union to attack, but doubtless there are some in the Union who would see our time of trouble as an opportunity to capture Imperial territory anyway."


 "We're moving every soldier we can to confront Voron's armies at Elvesland," Orrian added, building off what he'd said before, "As Lord Elmys was implying, our borders are weaker than they have been in my lifetime. Were the White Pretender not travelling here to swear allegiance, she might be giving us sleepless nights as well."


Catrina’s face disappeared behind her flagon, and by the time she lowered it to speak again, the drink was gone and her face a notable shade darker. “D’Ambois and her empty promises are far to the east. The Empire has been the Union’s most stable neighbour for centuries, but if they need reminding, allow me to help.” She placed her empty cup on the table and took a seat nearer the hearth and centre of the room.


“The Schurman company is willing and able to arm every man that remains guarding your southern borders. Make the cost of attack too high, and the provinces may be still steered another way.”


Dimitri was wearing his dress uniform, a resplendent raiment which was closer to the wear of a nobleman than an officer. A brown fur Kolpak, affixed with a silver crest with black feathers and a ruby the size of thimble capped his sandy blonde head. A patterned beige silk tunic of interlocking natural motifs was covered partially by a cuirass. An officer’s Saber of elven conquest rested on his hip naturally, his stature matching an elgan’s with ease. A green cloak with gold embroidery of the royal lancers drapes naturally, the brown fur on the mantle matching that of his cap. The pristine state of his uniform was impressive, seeing as he had spent the better part of three days riding ragged to reach the capital. 


For all his appearance, he had decided to remain silent at the words of his Emperor, until he opened the floor to his most capable captains. “The Hands have ensured the loyalty of the border towns, and have heeded your call to Elvesland. We will break Voron there.” He said with a simple brutality.


“Word of Union treachery will only arrive too late. I would suggest calling on the Sahalky to mobilize so that they would not be caught off guard.” His high-pitched voice carried a gravelly edge to it, as if the possibility of betrayal were certain, and within the reach of his sword.


"We shall!" Orrian declared enthusiastically. 


"We could call on the Pobryn to send aid," Elmys mused, sitting back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling, "I am hoping to bring the Sahalky to link up with us here... our intelligence reports that Voron is bringing together an army of 50,000 men, which is far more than us. But yes, if the Schurman Company is able to shore up the border, that would be very useful... though if we could convince them to sign a non-aggression pact, that would be preferable. Perhaps convince them that with the Calarians fighting Voron in the East, this is a perfect opportunity to expand their influence in the Main."


“The Doel Union has been untouched by war, no other fleet on the continent remains equally strong and unmolested. Preparedness means little against such a force when the bulk of your own is so far east.” Somewhere between the alcohol and catching excitement in the room, Catrina's decorous smile had transformed into something toothy and genuine that even the ‘half-elgan's' ominous tone and words could not sober. When she clasped her hands together in her lap they nearly clapped amid the dark silk of her skirts. 


“I propose an alternate investment in return for arming your borders. Keep your coin and let us form a contract instead. Lease my company a few rakes of land north of the Union for the extent of a single human life, my own if you like. I will pay for my people to live and work on this side of the border. The Assembly will never come to an agreement on sending raids though Doel citizens, and will be more inclined to hear your pact."




Orrian looked to Elmys, who scratched his chin thoughtfully, "We can certainly do that, but what benefit would it be to you or the Doel?" he asked, "The sea of grass is vast, good for horses, but it has never been a place many people have wished to settle." That was mostly because of the nomadic elgafolk tribes though Elmys apparently hadn't considered that.

“Haven’t they already?” Catrina asked, turning her smile and attention to the favoured lord. “The steppe may lack cities, but is there a corner left untouched by the Elgafolk? Have there always been such numbers of horses parading through the plains? Are your children born knowing to read tomorrow’s weather based on the direction of today’s wind? Your people may not root themselves to the ground as humans do, but they have settled and made a secure home here in their own way. I can see the opportunity in offering my countrymen the same.” A careful frown fell between Catrina's brows as she spoke, the corners of her mouth sobering. 


“For all her positive qualities, the provinces' lands are small, and made smaller still by marshes and swamps unsuitable for farming or towns. Instability, costs, and wanderlust drive Doel’s people west past the Evig Ocean in search of new places to make home. Each year, more of our ships and able-bodied men are carted off to forge fortune in colonies lucky to return tenths of the investments sent their way. Agriculturally viable land would help replace the resources being funnelled to the new world. The safety of the steppe may prove a more favourable option to dying in the open ocean to those desperate or seeking adventure.” The folded hands in Catrina’s lap opened, knuckles laced and palms upwards, when she looked again at Orrian.


“A person cannot remain part of a people while an ocean divides them. Doel may claim colonies now, but how long will the colonies claim her once they manage to sustain themselves? You of all understand the pain of watching a society fragment and become something else. Let them come north, lead lives of excitement in your untamed lands, and return home again.”


"Farming," Elmys nodded, as if that was the explanation he had been waiting for, he looked across to Orrian who nodded. "I see no problem with such an arrangement. As Lord Arel said, the lands are vast. There is plenty of room to settle and farm. Beef tastes better than herring!" he declared.


For a brief second Catrina’s jaw clenched hard; each tendon of her neck pronounced before the practiced smile from before fell over her again. She rose to give a small bow and nod of thanks to Orrain then Elmys. “Schurman and Doel thank you. I'll write the necessary letters tonight so that we may begin as quickly as possible.” Was her reply and excuse for departing the room.