Sherral (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fluffiest_archadian) wrote2016-06-05 04:25 pm
fluffiest_archadian) wrote2016-06-05 04:25 pm
[OOM]
Cirino does actually offer to accompany Sherral on his visit to Rhagarde, but Sherral has to turn him down: Dragging a Rozarrian along is not going to make Rhagarde more likely to give his seal of approval.
He contacts Rhagarde’s manservant (honestly, who takes a manservant along to an archaeological expedition?) and sets a time for the two of them to speak, and makes certain he arrives on time.
He’s made to wait outside the man’s tent for a whole ten minutes past their scheduled time before the manservant eventually leads him through.
On the inside, Rhagarde’s tent is absurd. It’s made from expensive materials and built for warmth, but Giruvegan isn’t cold enough to warrant it, and it’s suffocatingly hot within. The entire floor is covered by a rug, and a tremendous four poster bed is at one end, dominating the room. Other pieces of furniture - chaise-longues, a wooden table that must have taken a dozen men to move, a clawed bath with a twinkling crystal of water magicite on one end - are laid out around the tent, as if to give the impression of a set of opulent apartments, instead of a tent in an archaeological expedition.
(Sherral does note the small statue of Faram on the bedside table, and the Book of Light besides it. Very pious indeed. A little strange as well: It is common for Archadians to devote the bulk of their reverence to Miriam, goddess of war and justice.)
“His Grace, the most noble Duke Leopold Tycho Marcus Rhagarde, son of Sebastian Rhagarde, High Lord and Defender of the Eastern Territories, Duke of Galdheim, Viscount Montbelliard, Second Imperial Scion, Senatorial Knight of the Third Class,” the manservant announces as Sherral enters, before bowing low to his master. “Your Grace, Ser Sherral Rannoch Maduin, Judge-Captain of the Ministry of Law.”
Rhagarde himself is writing at a desk, although Sherral suspects he sat down and started writing nonsense only a few minutes earlier - it’s an obvious little piece of theatre, meant to make him seem more busy and important than he is.
“My apologies, Ser Maduin,” he says after a moment, laying down his pen and heaving himself up from his seat. The man is not old, not truly - middle-aged, perhaps, starting to grey, with crow’s feet - but he moves like someone fifty years older than he looks. Once he’s risen, he gives Sherral a once over, raising an eyebrow. “My word, you are young. You know, in Bhujerba, they do not let any join their military until they’ve seen seventeen summers. They must think it rather barbaric that an Archadian boy might have both medals and scars by the time he’s twenty.”
Sherral inclines his head a little. “In truth, I didn’t ask for this meeting to discuss how we might learn from Bhujerba.”
“Ha! There’s that Northern abruptness. Ser Beor warned me of that. He thinks you barely civilised, you know - and he thinks Ser Desmerais to be craven and weak-willed, and Ser Howell to be out of touch and slow,” Rhagarde frowns a little. “He is a truly exhausting fellow.”
Sherral is very tempted to ask what Beor was meeting with Rhagarde about, but he thinks a distraction from the topic at hand might be just what the duke is after.
“No, you came here to ask that I corral the Kiltia into giving their blessing to some mission to seek out a factory,” Rhagarde says after a moment. “Don’t look so surprised, I do have friends outside of the holy orders. Has Draklor yet given you their approval?”
“They have. Ser Howell too, and the commanders of Dalmasca and Rozarria’s forces will give their approval shortly,” Sherral says.
“In truth, I am divided over the whole idea of it. The gods did reveal this city to us, after all, and surely so that we might explore it, but is it not their hand that directs these monsters against us?” Rhagarde shakes his head. “It is a quandary. The Kiltia would think so as well, if I were to ask that they discuss it.”
“Only if you believe that there’s any kind of divine plan involved.”
“Which I do.” Rhagarde’s voice is a little sharp. “I would be a fool not to. A city materialises from the Mist, a purvama of islands appears in the sky - these are not magicks that any mortal might wield. No, I see Faram’s handiwork quite clearly, the Father of Light illuminating parts of our world we never saw before.”
Sherral waits without saying anything. If Rhagarde’s already heard about what he’s asking, then he’s likely already made a decision. He’ll get to it eventually. As he watches, Rhagarde’s manservant pours two cups of tea. Rhagarde takes one, and the manservant holds the other out for Sherral.
It would be rude to wave him away, so Sherral reluctantly takes the tea, holding it without drinking.
“I suppose I could hold the Kiltia back. Explain to them that this is a test placed before us by our lady Miriam, with Faram’s blessing,” Rhagarde says after a quick sip of his tea. “I would have conditions, however.”
“I am truly surprised,” Sherral says flatly.
Rhagarde barks out a quick laugh. “Not to worry, they are nothing that you wouldn’t be amenable towards. I am happy to have Braegh Company and the 21st Jinetes take the mission, however I would have them joined by Dalmasca’s 4th Expeditionary Force and - more importantly - our own Pallicant Company. Ser Beor will take overall leadership of the mission, and you and Alferez-Capitan Bracamontes may serve as his right and his left hands.”
Sherral very carefully keeps his expression neutral. Bergard Beor had, a year prior, been a fellow garrison captain at Rabanastre, and one with a particular penchant for brutality. Pairing his soldiers with a Dalmascan force seemed like a one way trip to violence breaking out on the expedition.
“May I ask why?”
“This is an important mission, I would not want to exclude Dalmasca a role in it. Ser Beor has worked closely with the 4th Expeditionary Force thus far,” Rhagarde says. “And I could hardly place him under your command, could I? He might be so incensed as to challenge me to a duel.”
“If those are your conditions, then I’m sure we could arrange something,” Sherral says carefully.
“I do have one more: There are likely members of both the archaeologists’ party and the Kiltia who would like to accompany you, I’d ask that you strongly consider taking a few of them along. I will also accompany you, and take full responsibility for the conduct and safety of any civilians joining the mission.”
This seems more and more like a bad idea the more Sherral hears. But it's not like they can just ignore what might be an endless supply of hostile forces.
"I'll discuss your proposals with Ser Howell."
He contacts Rhagarde’s manservant (honestly, who takes a manservant along to an archaeological expedition?) and sets a time for the two of them to speak, and makes certain he arrives on time.
He’s made to wait outside the man’s tent for a whole ten minutes past their scheduled time before the manservant eventually leads him through.
On the inside, Rhagarde’s tent is absurd. It’s made from expensive materials and built for warmth, but Giruvegan isn’t cold enough to warrant it, and it’s suffocatingly hot within. The entire floor is covered by a rug, and a tremendous four poster bed is at one end, dominating the room. Other pieces of furniture - chaise-longues, a wooden table that must have taken a dozen men to move, a clawed bath with a twinkling crystal of water magicite on one end - are laid out around the tent, as if to give the impression of a set of opulent apartments, instead of a tent in an archaeological expedition.
(Sherral does note the small statue of Faram on the bedside table, and the Book of Light besides it. Very pious indeed. A little strange as well: It is common for Archadians to devote the bulk of their reverence to Miriam, goddess of war and justice.)
“His Grace, the most noble Duke Leopold Tycho Marcus Rhagarde, son of Sebastian Rhagarde, High Lord and Defender of the Eastern Territories, Duke of Galdheim, Viscount Montbelliard, Second Imperial Scion, Senatorial Knight of the Third Class,” the manservant announces as Sherral enters, before bowing low to his master. “Your Grace, Ser Sherral Rannoch Maduin, Judge-Captain of the Ministry of Law.”
Rhagarde himself is writing at a desk, although Sherral suspects he sat down and started writing nonsense only a few minutes earlier - it’s an obvious little piece of theatre, meant to make him seem more busy and important than he is.
“My apologies, Ser Maduin,” he says after a moment, laying down his pen and heaving himself up from his seat. The man is not old, not truly - middle-aged, perhaps, starting to grey, with crow’s feet - but he moves like someone fifty years older than he looks. Once he’s risen, he gives Sherral a once over, raising an eyebrow. “My word, you are young. You know, in Bhujerba, they do not let any join their military until they’ve seen seventeen summers. They must think it rather barbaric that an Archadian boy might have both medals and scars by the time he’s twenty.”
Sherral inclines his head a little. “In truth, I didn’t ask for this meeting to discuss how we might learn from Bhujerba.”
“Ha! There’s that Northern abruptness. Ser Beor warned me of that. He thinks you barely civilised, you know - and he thinks Ser Desmerais to be craven and weak-willed, and Ser Howell to be out of touch and slow,” Rhagarde frowns a little. “He is a truly exhausting fellow.”
Sherral is very tempted to ask what Beor was meeting with Rhagarde about, but he thinks a distraction from the topic at hand might be just what the duke is after.
“No, you came here to ask that I corral the Kiltia into giving their blessing to some mission to seek out a factory,” Rhagarde says after a moment. “Don’t look so surprised, I do have friends outside of the holy orders. Has Draklor yet given you their approval?”
“They have. Ser Howell too, and the commanders of Dalmasca and Rozarria’s forces will give their approval shortly,” Sherral says.
“In truth, I am divided over the whole idea of it. The gods did reveal this city to us, after all, and surely so that we might explore it, but is it not their hand that directs these monsters against us?” Rhagarde shakes his head. “It is a quandary. The Kiltia would think so as well, if I were to ask that they discuss it.”
“Only if you believe that there’s any kind of divine plan involved.”
“Which I do.” Rhagarde’s voice is a little sharp. “I would be a fool not to. A city materialises from the Mist, a purvama of islands appears in the sky - these are not magicks that any mortal might wield. No, I see Faram’s handiwork quite clearly, the Father of Light illuminating parts of our world we never saw before.”
Sherral waits without saying anything. If Rhagarde’s already heard about what he’s asking, then he’s likely already made a decision. He’ll get to it eventually. As he watches, Rhagarde’s manservant pours two cups of tea. Rhagarde takes one, and the manservant holds the other out for Sherral.
It would be rude to wave him away, so Sherral reluctantly takes the tea, holding it without drinking.
“I suppose I could hold the Kiltia back. Explain to them that this is a test placed before us by our lady Miriam, with Faram’s blessing,” Rhagarde says after a quick sip of his tea. “I would have conditions, however.”
“I am truly surprised,” Sherral says flatly.
Rhagarde barks out a quick laugh. “Not to worry, they are nothing that you wouldn’t be amenable towards. I am happy to have Braegh Company and the 21st Jinetes take the mission, however I would have them joined by Dalmasca’s 4th Expeditionary Force and - more importantly - our own Pallicant Company. Ser Beor will take overall leadership of the mission, and you and Alferez-Capitan Bracamontes may serve as his right and his left hands.”
Sherral very carefully keeps his expression neutral. Bergard Beor had, a year prior, been a fellow garrison captain at Rabanastre, and one with a particular penchant for brutality. Pairing his soldiers with a Dalmascan force seemed like a one way trip to violence breaking out on the expedition.
“May I ask why?”
“This is an important mission, I would not want to exclude Dalmasca a role in it. Ser Beor has worked closely with the 4th Expeditionary Force thus far,” Rhagarde says. “And I could hardly place him under your command, could I? He might be so incensed as to challenge me to a duel.”
“If those are your conditions, then I’m sure we could arrange something,” Sherral says carefully.
“I do have one more: There are likely members of both the archaeologists’ party and the Kiltia who would like to accompany you, I’d ask that you strongly consider taking a few of them along. I will also accompany you, and take full responsibility for the conduct and safety of any civilians joining the mission.”
This seems more and more like a bad idea the more Sherral hears. But it's not like they can just ignore what might be an endless supply of hostile forces.
"I'll discuss your proposals with Ser Howell."