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Author Topic: FWD: RE: RE: RE: we lost (1998)  (Read 1239 times)

Offline Myroria

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FWD: RE: RE: RE: we lost (1998)
« on: April 24, 2018, 11:17:39 PM »
OOC: I'm going to make some changes to how I write Myroria in Taijitu. This is sort of an IC way of communicating those changes.

From: Quarrith, Gothren (goquarrith@quarrovth.hse.my)
To: Demnevanith, Manat (mademnevanith@quarrovth.hse.my)
Date: May 2, 1998 09:31:04 PM
Subject: we lost

I have just heard from Cnclmn. Adondas that our House lost the final ballot 4-3. House Mirshanith defected to backing Moomintroth. "Big Pappa" Moomintroth is going to be king. What I would give to wipe the smirk off his face. Fendrin amended the constitution to add these tiny families from nowhere to the Council and this is how they repay us. A total betrayal. Now we're just a bunch of schmucks.

Gothren Quarrith
Advisor to Her Grace
Quarrovth City Office

From: Demnevanith, Manat (mademnevanith@quarrovth.hse.my)
To: Quarrith, Gothren (goquarrith@quarrovth.hse.my)
Date: May 3, 1998 10:07:46 AM
Subject: RE: we lost

I heard of our loss shortly after your email. This was very unexpected. Mirshanith would be nothing without Fendrin and for them to stab him in the back like this - after his death - is disgusting. I don't think we're schmucks though. Not yet anyway. There are seven houses on the Council now and all it takes to stop Big Pappa from doing anything is to get three of them on our side. Send my condolences to everyone up there.

Manat Demnevanith
Operations Division
Quarrovth City Office

From: Quarrith, Gothren (goquarrith@quarrovth.hse.my)
To: Demnevanith, Manat (mademnevanith@quarrovth.hse.my)
Date: May 4, 1998 2:08:13 PM
Subject: RE: RE: we lost

Send me a summary of what you know about the new houses, Moomintroth's agenda, and what we can exploit. Big Pappa is an old man and it won't be long before this will all be happening again. I know this is a big ask but there's a lot in it for you. Fendrina is furious and the House will reward anyone who can get us ahead.

Big Papa's coronation is on June 20. I hope that's enough time for you to call in all your favors and do all the dirty work.

Gothren Quarrith
Advisor to Her Grace
Quarrovth City Office

From: Demnevanith, Manat (mademnevanith@quarrovth.hse.my)
To: Quarrith, Gothren (goquarrith@quarrovth.hse.my)
Date: June 22, 1998 09:09:33 AM
Subject: RE: RE: RE: we lost

Just about enough time. Sedera Nelvil III Moomintroth. I don't like the sound of that. He'll always be Big Pappa to me.

The Council of Houses is comprised of seven representatives from the seven (formerly three) Houses allowed a representative by the constitution. You know this and I know this but it bears repeating. Burn the number seven and all its factors into your brain because we'll be doing a lot of addition and subtraction over these next few years. Fendrin added four more Houses onto the Council because he said it would allow more Myrorians who work hard as retainers and functionaries the possibility of ascending into nobility. He also expected, of course, that the four families he added to the Council would be loyal to Quarrovth forever. That, however, was clearly a miscalculation.

Quarrovth remains the House with the largest number of oathmen, retainers, etc. Some would call them bureaucrats I suppose. But numbers don't mean anything anymore, clearly. We would do well to incentivize some of these employees to stay with us despite our loss of the Auspicious Throne. We will need them again once Big Pappa goes. Our House cannot afford to employ the rest of them now that we've lost access to the national treasury. That being said, we can lead the fight against Moomintroth legislatively and politically for the time being, so long as we can cobble together a coalition.

Politically Vrotrith remains as useless as it always has been. It continues to ask for "reform" but makes no serious attempts to force anything. When they do press for change, it's usually as a rider attached to some bill before the Council. If we can bridge the division of personal disdain between Her Grace and Rothis we could count on them as allies on the Council, so long as we are okay with our bills having some line about democratically electing township selectmen in them.

Mirshanith is one of the four new Houses on the Council. They're real upstarts. Their organization consists of a few buildings downtown in Mirshan's Gore in County Traval. By and large they're conservative, which means they get along with Big Pappa. They have a nationalist bent that can be exploited. Don't like immigrants, want Myroria to keep to itself. If we can humor them on that front I think their Councillor will support us for the most part. Despite their betrayal. One of my sources told me that Nerandam Mirshanith, the heir, has an Ozian mistress.

Indiotrovth is one of the "new Houses", but in reality is one of the oldest ones in the country. You may remember that they had a seat on the old Council, the one with three reps, years and years ago. Rumor was they were full of Endirotiroman spies. But that could just be because their flag was teal. Who knows. Quarrovth and Indiotrovth share a kindred spirit - as our names imply, both of our patriarchs years ago were landed farmers. And we both love money and know how to make it. Indiotrovth could see clearly that putting Fendrina on the Auspicious Throne would have improved our country's economy, which is why they voted for her despite the other new Houses' betrayals. We can count on them for the most part as long as we continue to support the economic policies Fendrin imposed.

Sershurrith is the third new House. Some of my sources say they're the real power behind Big Pappa. Deeply religious. Their gentry owns hundreds of acres of land around the sacred necropolis Mere-rûn. I know neither of us really believe in that but I recommend you read up because they look at scripture before doing anything. You need a damned theology degree just to communicate with some of them. Lots of skeletons in the closet, though, when you live a life like that. And we found plenty, even after only digging a little bit. I'll go over all that with you in person.

House Raviroth are "reformers" like Vrotrith, but even more useless because they're hypocrites. They went with Pappa because of his commitment to roll back Fendrin's economic policies. Our laissez-faire economics which lifted so many out of poverty they find to be too "cruel". Personally, I think Big Pappa's commitment to enforce the internal passport system for immigrants again is cruel, but they had nothing to say about that. I think the same riders Vrotrith pushes Raviroth will push too.

Moomintroth are our enemies again. It's my understanding that Big Pappa plans to push through laws written entirely by clerics and nationalists. He wants to introduce welfare for natural born Myrorian citizens, reintroduce the internal passport system, and cut language support for foreign born students in our schools. And that's just what he wants out the gates. I've heard rumors of reestablishing the Committee for the Promotion of Virtue and reinstating lese majeste laws. These will wreak havoc on our economy which Fendrin just opened up a few years ago. Businesses will leave, labor costs will go up... you know the drill. Our best hope for stopping this, besides just waiting for the old man to die, is to block every single bill through dealmaking with the new Houses. The only one we can count on to be on our side all the time are Indiotrovth. Vrotrith and Mirshanith can both be turned relatively easily, but the trouble is they hate each other. As for the rest, we'll have to make some major concessions with each bill, or make their Councillor unable to attend important meetings. How we do either of that I'll leave up to you and Her Grace.

I'll be following the news. It won't be long now before Big Pappa makes his first policy-defining address before the Council. Best of luck to you guys up there.

Manat Demnevanith
Operations Division
Quarrovth City Office
"I assure you -- I will be quite content to be a mere mortal again, dedicated to my own amusements."

Offline Funkadelia

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Re: FWD: RE: RE: RE: we lost (1998)
« Reply #1 on: April 26, 2018, 05:21:09 AM »
May 5th, 1998. Schärnau, Wusspelheim.

Lars Heinrich took a moment to sit back in his expensive leather chair. He'd just been promoted to general manager of the Samthaus Bank, Wusspelheim's largest financial institution. Of course, he was expected to be running everything above board. Usually, the bank was constantly busy, whether through walk-in customers, call-ins, or for the more special clients, the beta Internet transactions. Suddenly, a call lit up on the internal line.

"This is Lars. What's up?"

"Uh, yeah, there's a client here to discuss the Quarrovth portfolio."

"Yeah, okay, I'll be right over."

Lars sat for a second trying to think of why they would be wanting to do business in person. Since the Internet option was made available, the Myrorian clients have almost exclusively been going that route for their transactions. Curious. Lars sighs and lifts himself out of his chair and walks out of his office toward the front of the bank.

A disheveled looking, sweaty, rather young functionary nervously stood in the grandiose lobby and swung his head around as he noticed Lars walking toward the counter in his peripheral vision. He was wearing his official Quarrovth bank ID on a lanyard around his neck. "Come on into my office, buddy. And take that thing off, you'll attract the wrong kind of attention with that thing."

Lars led him into his office, and gestured to the chair sitting on the other side of his desk. Lars looked over the young man once over, and began to talk very calmly and smoothly. "Alright, so what's your name?"

"Uh, it's uh, Roland Quartrith." The young man scratched the back of his head and finally looked straight up at Lars.

"Alright Roland, what's up? You all usually don't come down here in person. And sending such a low level guy? This is really unusual."

"Well, uh, I was the only one who was left here. Most of the usual people were, uh, called back to Myroria on an emergency meeting..." Lars kind of felt bad. Clearly, the kid was nervous, and Lars was doing his best to keep him from getting more anxious. Clearly, though, if they were sending such a young greenhorn to the bank, there must be some sort of problem.

"Alright, well spill it. What do you need us to do for you?"

"Well, uh, look, I was told to tell you this and that, but I'll just tell you what I know. Quarrovth is out. Like, out, man. They got totally blown out by Moomintroth, and now they're in the minority and "Big Pappa" is about to take over there. They called everyone back to Myroria and they're all running around like chickens with their heads cut off. They're worried about the money that's sitting over here... It's, uh, really important that we make sure that it can't be seized."

Lars cut him off there. "Listen, there's nothing for you to worry about. We handle our transactions with the utmost discretion and privacy at the forefront. Nobody can seize or confiscate any of our assets, save for an invasion of the goddamn place, and trust me kid, 'Big, scary nation with big tanks rolls through a defenseless micro-state' is probably not going to go over well as a headline. Granted, it's probably going to be a bit harder for you Quarrovth folks to get your stuff quite as... discretely. So you'll have to set up some sort of system for that. You got all that, or you want me to write it down for you?"

"Well, uh, I think I get the message here. They're - uh - we're really worried about some of the assets in there, I have to stress it. It's a lot of money..."

"Didn't you already say that? Just give it a rest, everything is safe and sound over here. Now, why don't you go buy some lunch on the docks and then go back and tell your boss what I just told you? Okay? Have a good day, buddy. Here, let me walk you out."

Roland looked around for a second, nodded, and hurried out of his chair toward the door already being opened by Lars. He followed Roland to the door to the main lobby, where he nodded and patted him on the back. Roland scurried to the large, gold and glass doors at the front and disappeared into the sunlight. Lars began to walk back to his office. Clearly, the kid said way more than was necessary. Knowing what he knew now, he sat down at his computer and began doing a little bit of research on the Myrorian Council of Houses.
« Last Edit: May 23, 2018, 01:10:49 AM by Funkadelia »
Today's date is: Today is Jocidi, 5 Cielidor AR 5 - Day 1770 of the Glorious Revolution.

Many trials make manifest
The stranger's fate, the curses' bane.
Many touchstones try the stranger
Many fall, but one remains.

Offline Myroria

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Re: FWD: RE: RE: RE: we lost (1998)
« Reply #2 on: May 17, 2018, 10:51:43 PM »
May 2, 1993
National College at Fellowmoor

Hanan sat at his word processor, doing little but admiring its expense and new-plastic smell. It was now 4:30am, and he had spent the past six hours drafting his final paper - An examination of the House system during the drafting of the Constitution - and had little energy left to write a second draft. It seemed pointless anyway. The government had added four more Houses to its council with the king's blessing. It seemed that would have been a far more monumental event to write a paper about.

Hanan stood up and ran his hand through his brown hair, slightly oily after his all-nighter. He looked out the library window; standing on the fifth floor, he could just barely see the sun's early rays coming over the horizon. He picked up an empty mug on his desk and walked to the elevator, past the night librarian asleep in her chair.

The elevator dinged and Hanan stepped out into the first-floor lounge. Approaching the coffee machine, he saw the stale dregs at the bottom of the pot were all that remained of the coffee he brewed the night before. He emptied it into the sink and as he poured more grounds into the tray he heard soft footsteps on the carpet behind him. Oddly enough, it was Marile, a classmate of his.

It was obvious looking at her frizzy hair and slippers that Marile had also stayed up all night, probably for the same class considering the tedious work their professor typically assigned. He nodded in her general direction and leaned against the counter.

"Dr. Bralith’s final?" he said as she approached the coffee machine. "I just started a pot."

"Ayuh," she said, pouring coffee and creamer into an empty cup. "What's your paper?"

"It's about the drafting of the Constitution. Yours?"

"Republicanism," she replied mid-yawn. Hanan looked unsure for a moment. They were only acquaintances, but Marile was the kind of person to make her political leanings clear to everyone.

"Really? I thought Bralith hated politics?"

"He teaches politics," she said, as if Hanan had two heads.

"I mean he hates controversy."

"Because the status quo is uncontroversial?” she said. Hanan looked like he was about to open his mouth again when she said “That was rhetorical.”

“Well,” Hanan began, trying to avoid an argument, “Making headway?”

“I suppose. You?”

Hanan had to think quick if he wanted to impress her. He couldn’t tell her the truth – that he had been staring at his brand new word processor for an hour and a half - if he planned to ask her to dinner after finals were over.

“Just working on my final draft. I’ve got this brand new word processor that was a gift from my uncle. It’s funny, actually, you might have heard of him – Marsilamat Quarrovth; he works with the Sedera’s daughter.”

The corners of her mouth did not move an inch. “Oh yeah, I saw you across the library staring at it for an hour and a half. Is that a custom among you Quarrovths when you receive gifts?”

Hanan turned red. The coffee machine beeped loudly three times but he didn’t acknowledge it. “Coffee’s done. Can you pour me a cup?” Marile asked with a grin.

The laughter quickly stopped as a third figure entered the room. Coincidentally it was a third classmate of theirs, Rervim Moomintroth, son of a mid-ranking Moomintroth intendant. Professors and students agreed that Rervim was difficult to get along with, to say the least. Religious, deeply conservative, and arrogant, he was, in the best of times, bitterly sardonic and in the worst of times openly belligerent. It was difficult to tell which he mood he would be in depending on the week, day, or hour.

“Hello,” he said. “Is that coffee?”

“Ayuh,” Marile said. “Do you want some?”

“No, thank you. I don’t drink coffee.”

“Ah,” Marile said. There was a moment of awkward silence.

“Hanan Quarrovth, right?” Rervim asked. “And Marile, ah… I’m afraid I don’t remember your family’s name.”


“I’ve never heard of them. Are they some Vrotrith branch?”


Rervim scoffed. “Then what are you folks up to?”

“Sending our daughters to the National College on their own merit.” She said, her face displaying no emotion. Rervim looked impressed at the retort for a minute, then brushed it off. He turned to look at Hanan, as if sizing him up.

“She’s got a mouth on her.” he said. Hanan chuckled nervously as Marile shook her head. “You related to the Sedera, Hanan?”

“We’re, ah, distant cousins.”

“Putting those four other families on the Council was the smartest thing you Quarrovths have done Fendrin took the throne, huh?”

“Yes, it was,” Hanan said, never turning down a chance to brag. “His Majesty is a master of political maneuvering.”

“In the end, it will be a boon for my family.” Rervim replied with a crooked smirk. Hanan, as usual, looked puzzled. “Fendrin was expecting the Houses he added to the Council to be like Quarrovth – fat, soft, lazy… instead, he added upstanding patriotic clans. Mershanith and Sershurrith are like us Moomintroths. They respect our ancient traditions. They have to defend their own estates from poachers and bandits instead of relying on the government to supply policemen. And, most importantly, they respect the authority of our religious teachers. Tell me, Hanan, when was the last time you saw a Quarrovth attending a weekly prayer service?”

“We’re not lazy,” Hanan replied, his face turning red. “I hustled every day to get admitted to this college. My Quarrovth birth got me nowhere.”

You could almost hear Marile’s eyes rolling. “You both might as well have been born with an acceptance letter in your hand. You petty nobles don’t know anything about the real world. Have you ever even been inside a public school?”

Rervim did not look in Marile’s direction, instead keeping his ire focused squarely at Hanan. “The last thing you Quarrovths did that required some balls was march on Pelagis after Nelvil II died. It was the only reason Fendrin got on the throne instead of Big Pappa… and now your family denies it ever happened. It might scare their liberal friends in Endirotiromi.

“Let me tell you something,” he continued, “when Fendrin’s smoking catches up with him, and it will soon… the families you added to the Council will back a Moomintroth bid for the Auspicious Throne. They see what we stand for and how we represent what Myroria used to be.”

Hanan scoffed and Marile picked her mug up off the counter. “I’m not going to watch you two compare your dick sizes anymore. One day you prissy aristocrats won’t be able to ignore the common people anymore.”

She left as Hanan’s eyes followed her around the corner. He picked his mug up off the counter so aggressively that coffee spilled on the floor.

“I was just trying to talk about my paper, you know?” he said, exasperated. “You’re such an asshole. But you Moomintroths will just be screaming into the void forever.”

Hanan followed Marile around the corner. Rervim smiled to himself and walked to the coffee pot. He picked it up and dumped it down the sink, then left the library.
"I assure you -- I will be quite content to be a mere mortal again, dedicated to my own amusements."

Offline Myroria

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Re: FWD: RE: RE: RE: we lost (1998)
« Reply #3 on: May 27, 2018, 12:39:04 AM »
June 20, 1998
St. Oramyn Boulevard, Pelagis

It was clear looking at "Big Pappa" Moomintroth where he got his epithet. He stood six foot four and weighed 270 pounds, and had a bulky, grizzled look about him, like a long-retired linebacker. He was of Fendrin's generation, born in the late 1920s. Unlike Fendrin, though, he never touched tobacco and therefore had both his lungs in good working order still, even now as he approached 70. He wore his white hair close-cropped, and only now in his sixth decade was it beginning to thin on the crown.

He sat in the back of an armored limousine, legs sprawled in front of him, being driven to the great temple in Pelagis' city center. Here he would be coronated as the All-House Union's new Sedera. The word was often translated to "king", but to Pappa this was a gross misrepresentation of the position. The Sedera was elected, given the throne by a united consensus of Myroria's nobles. Receiving the honor was never a sure thing. Sederas, picked from the ranks of the aristocracy, did not get lazy like monarchs born in the purple.

Big Pappa knew this better than most. His father and grandfather were both kings. When his father died, Pappa was still "Nelvil" - a man who had not yet earned his nickname or respect as his house's patriarch. Perhaps this is why the Council folded when Fendrin Quarrovth, that upstart, marched on Pelagis with an army more loyal to him than the country itself. Nelvil had to chew on this disgrace for 20 years.

But it mattered no longer. In an hour he would be sitting in the Auspicious Throne of the Spirits and Ancestors. Fendrin's reign was merely a brief interregnum. Peering through the car's windshield, he could see the white walls of St. Oramyn's Chapel decorated with the dark maroon of Myroria's flag and the bright crimson of House Moomintroth's banner. As the limousine coasted to a stop in front of the chapel's tall steps, two footmen released white doves.

Two Moomintroth nobles waited for Pappa besides the massive wooden doors of the chapel. They stood in front of him, one facing each door. The man to Pappa's left, the middle-aged Count of Traval, tapped on the door five times with his cane. The crowd, held back by police, cheered after each successive hit. There was a pause for a few moments that felt like hours. Then the doors were opened and Pappa entered. As he passed the doors he saw an indentation on the left door, worn from centuries of cane-tapping before centuries of coronations in this temple.

Inside the temple, cushioned benches arranged in a giant circle faced a central chancel on which was the chapel's central altar. Depending on the ceremony, the altar could display a meal, a lecturn with scriptures, or a body. Today, it displayed the massive multi-tiered crown that was the universal symbol of the Sedera. Its weight and awkward shape meant it was only worn during coronations, and even then had to be supported by retainers.

In front of the altar was the Auspicious Throne of the Spirits and Ancestors, an equally massive chair upholstered in yellow cloth that had dulled to a golden brown over the centuries. It had been specially transported to the chapel from the Royal Residence for this occasion.

The pews along the aisle leading from the door to the altar were reserved for Myroria's most highly ranked nobles; leaders of the seven Houses and their immediate family.

First he passed Avibel Raviroth, the head of House Raviroth, his wife, two children, two brothers, and one sister. The men and boys dressed in sharp suits in modern cuts, and the women and girls in elegant gowns no less contemporary. Pappa always had an eye for clothes, and as he shook Avibel's hand and made polite waves to each of the people sitting on the pew, he noticed that their aggressive style befitted their reform-minded attitude, second only to Vrotrith's in its zeal.

Next was Massalanit Sershurrith, his two wives, and seven children. They were the complete opposite of the Raviroths - dressed not even in suits, but in the traditional, brightly-covered Myrorian caftans normally worn only by religious teachers and the most conservative believers. Massalanit and his three sons were all (in)famous for being pupils of the ultra-orthodox teacher Mathis Lleritroth, before breaking with him to pursue an even more traditional religious experience. Pappa shook Massalanit's hand and gave him his first genuine smile of the day.

Then there was Erendir Indiotrovth, head of House Indiotrovth, his wife, one child, and three brothers. They could never shake the accusation first leveled 100 years ago that their family was filled with Endirotirosi spies. It didn't help that he wore a particularly Endirotirosi style of suit to the coronation, or a bright teal tie to go with it. Even his cheekbones looked foreign, Pappa thought to himself. He shook Erendir's hand and nodded to the rest of them before moving on.

Mervin Mershanith, his wife, two sons, and four cousins were next, the last of the four New Houses. It looked as if his suit, a conservative cut that would have been in fashion five years ago, came from the same closet as Big Pappa's. Pappa smiled enthusiastically as he shook Mervin's hand. "Let's get a beer," he said quietly, keeping the cameras from seeing his lips.

Then, Rothis Vrotrith, his wife, his brother and his wife, and Rothis' two kids. Rothis wore a beard and what must have been the only suit jacket he owned. Pappa shook his hand aggressively, as one might shake the hand of the boy taking your daughter to prom. He half expected Rothis to address him as "comrade" on accident, but instead he said "Your Majesty".

Two pews from the front now, and now he had to play nice with the Quarrovths. It was the miscegenist Fendrina, her foreign husband Petei, the two unfortunate children from this union, Marsilamat Quarrovth, a high-ranking noble in that family, and Gothren Quarrith, the fixer. He shook her hand lightly and then carried on.

In the front pew sat his family: His wife, Lladrina, and three children. Next to them sat his two grandchildren and personal advisor, Rervim Moomintroth. He hugged his wife a respectable few seconds and then released her. The Count of Thanelen approached Pappa, holding a heavy brocade caftan similar to the ones worn by the Sershurrith nobles, different only in its ornate decoration. The Count helped Pappa put the robe on and then stepped back as he approached the throne and stood in front of it.

"Let us begin the coronation!" he announced to the crowds, who clapped politely in response.

June 21, 1998
The Sedera's Residence, Pelagis

Rervim was five years older now, and the politics, spirituality, and economics degree he got from the Royal College quickly got him a job with the Moomintroths' executive office in Traval. The belligerence and argumentative tone he was famous for in school turned, as far as anyone who knew him was concerned, into a more mild trait of stubbornness. Despite this, though, there was still a fire in his eyes that gleamed especially bright when discussing his passion: policy.

This passion was obvious enough to get him a job with Big Pappa as a policy advisor, and when he won the royal election in May, there was little question who would come to Pelagis with him. Was Rervim ready to leave the podunk scene in Traval and head straight for the capital, to mingle with the Moomintroth aristocrats suddenly elevated from repairing fences on their ranches to running a country? He certainly thought so.

"Your Majesty," Rervim began, sprawled in a chair in front of Big Pappa's desk, "The Council of Great Houses elected you because of the program our House promised to them. They saw that the Quarrovths were more preoccupied with enriching themselves than running our country. We have to show them right away that we're different - that you will do something where they did nothing. We have to submit a bill to the Council as soon as possible."

Big Pappa nodded slowly. "Remember," he said, "think of what we have the political capital to do. Quarrovth, Vrotrith, and Raviroth will try to block any bill I submit this soon after the coronation. So we can't afford anyone to defect from our side."

"Exactly. So we should start small, with something that has massive support - not only among the nobility, but among the people."

Pappa nodded again, this time even more slowly. He looked unsure.

"The Quarrovths opened our holy sites up to tourists. This is a travesty that has gone on for too long. People are sick of seeing Ozian women at necropoli or temples taking pictures. Or having to stand in line behind a Funkadelian! to enter a saint's shrine. If we were to reinstate the ban on non-convert foreigners at holy sites we could have the capital behind us to reinstate more of our traditions in the future."

Pappa smiled. "I like the idea," he said, "but we'll need the support of Indiotrovth."

"Simple," Rervim replied. "An associate in the south of County Novrith tells me that Nerendan has been trying to buy this land from an Ozian family for the silver deposits on it but they refuse to sell. Just order them to vacate and Nerendan will vote however we want him to on this."

Big Pappa smirked. "You are a nefarious sumbitch, Rervim."

"I live to serve, Your Majesty," Rervim said as he was standing. "I can have a draft bill on your desk by the end of the week." he continued before slithering out of the room.
« Last Edit: May 28, 2018, 10:51:47 PM by Myroria »
"I assure you -- I will be quite content to be a mere mortal again, dedicated to my own amusements."

Offline Myroria

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Re: FWD: RE: RE: RE: we lost (1998)
« Reply #4 on: May 30, 2018, 12:51:40 AM »
Fendrin hated other people knowing what he said. When something needed to be done - when the wheels of statecraft needed to be greased - he would meet with his staff one-on-one. He first became familiar with the cloying, ceremonial nature of monarchial rule as a general. He would see the advisors, distant cousins, and chiefs of staff humbling themselves before Nelvil II, Big Pappa's pappa. That it was a humiliating spectacle was bad enough. Worse were the legal scholars and attorneys hanging around the throne room, taking each pronouncement from the crown as a new legal precedent.

The Auspicious Throne collected dust for most of Fendrin's rule. He didn't want anyone hearing what he said or misinterpreting a direction he gave. The exact meaning of each word was between him and his gofer. Business was conducted behind closed doors and white noise machines, directives uttered through a thick, leathery haze of cigar smoke.

Nelvil III, on the other hand, while not in love with the ceremony himself, understood its use. All Myrorian culture was based around family and its hierarchies. A father gave firm directions to his family at the dinner table. A House's leader gave firm directions to his retainers and nobles. And the Sedera of the All-House Union gave firm directions, in public, to his people. To hide it would be to destabilize the system. In this respect Fendrin and his family and allies were no better than the foreigners who mocked the country's government. They might not have called it a collection of "fat, rich men" like the reds in Funkadelia, but their hearts were in the same place. They wished to do away with the sacred traditions that had saved Myroria from war, famine, or Ozian genocide.

Pappa resolved early on to dust off the Auspicious Throne and have the public, transparent court that his people had enjoyed for hundreds of years. Nobles would relate their ideas and conflicts to him in the open, so that all could see. When, not long after regular courts were reintroduced, he saw Nerandam Mirshanith, the meek heir to House Mirshanith, he was pleased to see the effect it had on him.

Normally, the boy - he was in his forties but still acted as a boy - would slither into the room, asking soft, quiet questions, avoiding eye contact, and making no great impression. When faced with the imposing ceremony of the royal court, though, he stood tall and spoke clearly. He bowed properly, once on entering the grand throne room and once when standing before the Sedera. He nodded gracefully at Rervim, standing on Pappa's left side like a guard.

"Your Auspicious Majesty..." he spoke with confidence, "I bring you a formal petition from House Mirshanith."

Pappa nodded gravely and, for a moment, smiled. "Go on."

The press pool, standing awkwardly in the corner, leaned in as if to hear better.

"Presently Section Զ(za) of the Novrith Waterfront is managed by an Ozian woman," he said, voice dripping with theatrical ire. "As you may have heard, my cousin, the Superior Magistrate of County Novrith, and his office discovered a scheme developed by this woman to funnel money that would normally be taxed as import duties into a private account in Wusspelheim."

Pappa nodded again. The press pool audibly gasped.

"This woman, Daermirzha Rasnav, was taken into custody by the Magistrate's office yesterday evening. My nephew, the manager of Section Ե(yez), has been appointed interim manager of her section by the Port Authority. I believe that in recognition of the Mirshanith family's involvement in bringing this tax fraud to justice, my nephew should be allowed to manage both sections of the Novrith dock."

Pappa leaned back in the throne. Holding his left elbow square, he tapped Rervim's chest gently with his hand. Rervim leaned in and whispered:

"Why is he bringing this petition to you? The mayor or the Port Authority should be handling this."

"I think the boy recognizes that the Vrotriths run Novrith and they would never approve this," Pappa replied. "But look at his demeanor. He has grown immensely on a personal level. He's growing on me."

Rervim pursed his lips, unused to his suggestions going unheeded.

"Sir, he is acting very irregular. I believe he is being put up to this." Rervim got even quieter and glanced at Nerandam, who looked ahead, emotionless. "You have heard the rumors of his Ozian mistress, yes? This is probably some greasy morshe* nonsense he has gotten involved in."

Pappa furrowed his eyebrows.

"Rervim, you are just acting anxious. I see nothing wrong with this petition."

At this point Rervim began to fume. He knew that Pappa had a tendency to do whatever was asked of him - which made Rervim an excellent advisor when the two of them were alone. In this setting, it was dangerous.

"Sir, you should at least take a few hours to consider this."

Pappa hit Rervim's chest, harder this time, as if to push him away.

"Nerandam, you make an excellent point. I will direct the head of the Port Authority to grant House Mirshanith's request."

"Thank you! Your Auspicious Majesty," Nerandam said. He bowed and turned to leave. Rervim stood to the Sedera's side, biting his lip, as another supplicant entered the throne room.

*morshe: A mild Myrorian derogatory term for Ozian people, meaning "murderous-people" literally but more accurately translated as "criminal".
« Last Edit: May 30, 2018, 01:09:55 AM by Myroria »
"I assure you -- I will be quite content to be a mere mortal again, dedicated to my own amusements."