Post

The Aurosa Accords: Prompt
Co-Written with Namalar

The sun bore down brightly over the smooth roads of the Imperial Highway. The Imperial Carriage, adorned with golden lions glimmered brightly at the approach. The smooth wood from the many forests of Rolais were painted black complimented itself well against the gold adornments which dotted the carriage. While all looked good, the black carriage itself was drawing the full wrath of the warm sun, which was bearing down heavily as the horses made their way along the Imperial Highway towards Aurosa, the former capital of the Kostuan Empire, and current capital of the new kingdom of Namalar.

Francois himself sat in the back of the carriage along with Enzo Parneux, the Imperial Chancellor who had decided to accompany him. Enzo had let his hair grow significantly, and his face was beginning to sag. Age was creeping up to him dramatically, something that Francois was needing to bring up. The role of Imperial Chancellor was an important one in the Empire. The Chancellor leads the Imperial Senate, along with the appointment of magistrates who now all eventually become senators. It was imperative that a strong chancellor was around to lead the Empire.

“Enzo, have you thought anymore about the matter we discussed yesterday?” Asked Francois, trying to broach the subject once again.

“I have, but not too much sire. I still have a few good years left in me, and too much to accomplish before you put me in the grave.” Enzo replied.

“That's not the point Enzo and you know it.” Francois stated. “The fact of the matter is you have appointed or even mentioned any possible successor. Is there anybody that you would appoint tomorrow if you had to.”

“I have told you that Duke Renois de Werstan would make a suitable-”

“I won't have that bastard even in the palace, much less lead the senate.” Francois spat. “I wonder by the day how the Inquisition hasn’t found even a shred of note condemning him. Anything would be a huge boon, weakening his power over the region, instead I receive excuses, leads vanishing and even Darius’ Order of the Rat cannot manage to get a scrap of paper condemning the man. I tire of this war in the shadows.”

“This war in the shadows would not be occurring if you would agree to the proposal which both I and Darius brought forward to you.” Enzo snapped back. “The ancient Kostuans had this tool to deal with strife, and you have the armies to back up whatever policy you pursue.”

“I will look like the worst kind of tyrant if I go ahead with your idea of proscriptions. The chaos that could follow would be…insanity. The whole realm could fall to chaos. I don’t see why you would wish to see the realm fall to that…barbarism.”

“Sire, I spent 30 of my good years ensuring that since you were a boy that you were prepared for everything that the world could throw at you.” Enzo stated. “You are the closest thing I could ever have to a son. I would never seek to sabotage you or the Empire, but you must realise that none of us are for this world forever. You must start taking the harder decisions on your own, and realise that sacrifices must be made in the name of peace.”

“And what of justice?” asked Francois.

“Justice is not the same as law and order.” Enzo replied. “One trumps the other in importance by leaps and bounds.”

“Perhaps then, you could at least begin training my cousin, Markos Stravox, to take over some of the duties. He has been running Lydes smoothly, and it has so far remained a bastion of stability for the Empire. He is a smart man, and with your education we could ensure stability for years to come, and it would put my heart at great ease.”

“Fine sir, if you will not make peace with the duke or threaten him with proscription, I can educate Markos in the affairs of the Rolesian state.” Enzo surrendered before looking outside the window. “It looks as if we are approaching our destination.” He said, pointing outside. Moving his head outside the window, Francois saw it coming into view. The great city of Aurosa, the once heart of the world. Its white structures and tall buildings dominated the otherwise green and flat landscape. Giant ancient statues were clear, and awning as the carriage continued its slow trawl over the Imperial Highway. They would soon be there, to meet with Melorath, the King of Namalar.

The halls of the former imperial palace were abuzz with the floaty, hastened shapes of servant and slave, fluttering through the estate like worker bees to parts unknown. Any number of tasks they had from the household administration was typical on modest days, but with the expected arrival of the Rolesian Emperor, came overbearing expectations. It was important that the palace was made to receive a guest, although in truth there was little work to be done that could be considered exceptional; room-clearing and furnishments remained a constant fixture of the household’s labor duties. Melorath had finally returned to Aurosa, and with his return came politics and court offerings. Every few days another figure graced the halls, and the staff had been transformed into a perpetual host for Melorath’s numerous allies and peers.

If anything, the most unusual aspect of it was how close Melorath attached the royal court to the Teisma, which traditionally sat apart; King Sacromo had barely considered them, and spoke to the Teisma less than three times in his entire reign. Meanwhile, Melorath had yet to address them, for the occasion had yet to come, but he sought to become a familiar face with the most influential among their ranks. As such, Hyvas Musamor, one of the more experienced members of the council, had just reached his second day within the court, as an honored guest of Melorath’s. The King had remembered him from the time he spent in Mindara, and naturally sought to remold the short-lived encounter into a proper alliance of interests. The two men spent the entire past day in conversation, intermixed with dinner, pleasantries, and a few soft periods of entertainment composed of musicians and choir folk.

The conversations were mostly over the growing ‘war community’ in the Teisma, which interested Melorath and worried Hyvas. Recently, the Hero of Sarbós, Mindien Atheenar, had thrown her lot in with the warhawks and began calling for a renewed war against the Syrdurians. It was a nebulous, scattered group of people from all walks of Namarian life, but their excuses and reasonings betrayed a simple truth: conquest. The annexations of the north; the triumphant destruction of Kostua⁠—Namalar was rejuvenated, and men and women alike thumped their chests with eager anticipation and called for their General-King to proclaim yet another chapter in the martial legend of the Namari.

Yet, presently, the presence of the clique aggrieved Melorath, who did not fully adhere to their vision and machinations. The King’s gaze was affixed towards the north, though not out of a warlust for violence and riches. The King was confused by instabilities and recent developments between the nations there, and he watched the states with growing interest. The cauldron had been left to boil for too long, he reasoned, and now it threatened to spill over. How Namalar would traverse these developments was of vital interest to Melorath; more-so than carving out a new territory. It was politics of the greater sort, not focused merely on a single topic, but cast like a wide net and aimed to watch, inspect, and reckon with all. This was the most beneficial approach, in his mind.

In this context, it was that Francois, the Rolesian Emperor, arrived. The master of the court, and its many organs of state, were hardly moved by the presence of a Sokosian great figure, for the entrenchment of their kingdom was not something Melorath viewed as being achievable with a single handshake. In total, four men were to meet with the Emperor and deliberate with him. One, of course, was Melorath. Then it was Neloril, his old comrade he trusted dearly. Ralvoth Dandras, his good, loyal diplomat was also present. Lastly, Hyvas was permitted to meet with the Emperor and sit-in during the meeting; he was honored by the insistence of Melorath, and considered a guest of the court.

As the carriage made its way through the city Francois was in a state of awe. The beautiful marble white buildings still dominated and attested to the power and wealth of the ancient Kostuan Empire, and the opulence it espoused with every fibre of its being. Emerging from the carriage with Enzo, he was to be accompanied inside the Imperial Palace by two of the Imperial Fire Guard, Sir Jacques Honon and Ser Juno de Tel Andes, both seasoned fighters. Jacques himself however had his hands full with a large wooden box, which was brought all the way from Tel Andes. The rest of the Imperial Fire Guard made a small circle around the Emperor as he made his way through the central plaza of the city, stopping only so that the Emperor could see some of the mosaics and and sculptures which still existed in the city as guards and the people of the plaza all crowded to get a look. Before long, Francois had climbed the steps and had entered the throne room.

The throne room was just as beautiful as it was described to him as a boy. The roof was adorned with hanging lights, and on both sides of the tiled walkway to the Cinder Throne were clearwater pools, with some of the freshest water imaginable. Several large statues and banners of the new kingdom adorned the massive columns which kept the roof over their heads. with exquisite engravings and works of art being on display. Approaching the throne, Enzo began to kneel along with the two Imperial Fire Guards as Francois placed his left hand over his heart, and raised his right hand, a Rolesian gesture of friendly greeting.

Around the throne, those in attendance offered varying degrees of curtsies and bows. The human servants, whether indentured or freemen, bowed deeply to the foreign dignitaries; Kostuans lowered their heads in an act of fitting irony, though some of the gentrymen from the city offered only the slimmest of respect—their presence alone was an act of supplication, a near constant reminder of the belittlement, and dismantling, of the Kostuan Empire. The Namari present seemed confused and uncertain of how to reciprocate the Rolesian gesture. Some of them returned bows or salutes, but others, stone-faced and unwilling to show any kind of deference to humans and foreigners, watched on with beady, dark eyes that traced their every movement.

It was the first time that a human delegation had arrived in Namalar in recent history, and many had not experienced such a thing. It was alien in its totality; the confluence of two lands and people, with little in common between them, now intruding into each other’s spheres. Melorath had met with Francois on the border, yes, but that was scarcely comparable to now, with the Rolesian Emperor standing at the foot of the throne, and fully present in the stately court of the once-Kostuans.

Firmly, Melorath rose to his feet. The King had a strange look on his face as he had sat on the amber throne; his eyes unfocused, and glazed over, he was as if deep in thought, despite the presence and commotion around him. Though he stood, and leaving the presence of the throne as his hands departed the cold, shaped gemstone resin behind, seemed renewed of purpose and direction.

“When we last met it was in a tent. I hope that you can appreciate the comfort offered here instead.”

Melorath spoke, skipping pleasantries as he reminded the court of his familiarity with his peer. His voice was straight-forward and undiplomatic, lacking flourish and extravagance. The language was Kostuan; to the King it was the language of servitude and slavery, and sharply learned to speak to lower castes and deliver orders. It was to his mind, as it was to most Namari, a language entirely unfit for intrigue and statesmanship.

Francois laughed as his party rose, taking the mention of the tent and inn as a small jest. “I heard stories of the extravagance of the Imperial Palace of Aurosa as a boy. To see the magnificence brought to light by your people is truly heartening. The fate of nations was oft decided in these halls, and you have once again made it so. To begin I would like to present a gift from our people to yours.”

At this, the large wooden box was placed into Francois’ hands. As he opened it a gleaming and freshly forged sword was sitting cushioned against the fine blue fabrics of the interior. “This sword was forged from a star that fell from the sky. For a hundred nights, the greatest smith in the Empire, Gaspard Du Pont, laboured in the moonlight in the face of the other stars of the night sky, carefully forging the metals until this magnificent weapon was created. Consider it our gift, to you.” Francois said, holding out the box towards a servant to be carried to Melorath.

Melorath readily accepted the gift, instructing Neloril to take it. The General held the box at his side, but the King did not seem immediately interested in looking over the weapon. It was clear that his mind remained focused on the present meeting, and eager as to the dialogue that would emerge with Francois.

“I thank you. Swordsmanship is prized among my people; it is our way of life, and our secret to success.”

He said, a rhetorical flourish to his words as he recalled what vulgar Kostuan he knew.

“I do not think it is worth complimenting these halls. Maybe to the Rolesians this is a place of awe, but we Namari did not make this palace. Or this city. Nothing within these walls was made by us, except perhaps by the labor of distant kin. Perhaps one day I will show you our homeland, and then you can understand all that made us what we are.”

“I would be honoured to see the unique history of your people. To experience it outside the words of scholars.” Francois said, trying to hide the fact that knowledge of the culture and people of Namalar were utterly unknown to most members of the Imperial Government. Thinking on that, he realised he should probably finance a significant research mission with a group of whatever the University could spit out. “As for our visit today, if I could borrow a moment of your time, we would be quite eager to discuss some sensitive matters of state.”

The elven King nodded, placing his hands behind his back as he looked to Neloril for a second, flashing a look of common understanding between the two.

“Very well, of course.” He said. “I have already had a room prepared for us, so that we may speak in comfort.”

The delegation of Rolesians were encouraged to follow their Namarian counterparts as the gathering exited the throne room and proceeded down the halls of the palace. If it was mistaken before, it was easy now to see that this was a Kostuan building through and through. Pillars flanked the structure of the hall, which was open. Periodically a lattice window was struck into the wall, and gave a view of the square internal courtyard. If they continued forward, and reached the rear of the palace, they soon would have found the gardens, which similarly were crafted out of that typical Kostuan arrogance and immensity.

The walls were flanked with paintings, tapestries and statues, ranging from all walks of life and histories. Though it was not as complete as the imperial vaults and library, the palace had its own little collection of worldly artifacts. Stories telling the fall of the conquered and the victories of the vanquisher were woven into every fiber of each tapestry; many of the art pieces were stolen and confiscated from the lands they conquered, and told of many foreign stories and legends utterly unknown to both Kostuan and Namarian. If one focused, they could even see signs of the Namari adding their own to the halls. A few pieces showed off their own histories, and the gathering of diplomats passed by a small silver statuette crafted in imitation of King Therrund.

Soon they reached the drawing room that Melorath had prepared for them. Though some of the many other rooms of the palace were exquisite and ornate—with gilded furniture and walls embroidered in gold and silver—he tacitly chose one of the lesser levee rooms. For many it was no less extravagant, with satin and velvet furniture, and themed with crimson-cushions and decor that led to it being known as the ‘Red Room’.

Like in his meeting with the Concordat, the King saw that some food and drink was prepared for them, though Melorath took no cup for himself and chose to abstain from wine; a regular occurrence for the man. He gestured for Francois to sit across from him, separated only by a small table which was set with silverware. There were seats for others to gather around them, though Neloril chose to stand towards the rear of the delegation, perhaps to watch the room in totality and make up his own mind.

“Now,” Melorath started, clearing his throat as he kicked up one of his legs to rest across the other. “I must admit that I am curious as to what could have brought the Rolesian Emperor himself into my halls. What presence! I can only wonder how important it must be that a messenger or letter could not dictate your own will.”

“As you are a man of the military I am sure that you will appreciate a frank and honest exchange to establish the situation.” Francois explained. “Several months ago, an attempt on my life was made in the grounds of the new Imperial Senate, a new vital part of the Empire's governance. Many of these men were born with noble blood running through their veins, seeking to throw our country back decades. What followed has been a shattering of the internal peace that has existed for years inside the Empire. Large groups of zealots are arming themselves with weapons to create a large army at the behest of these conspirators. Many of these men were also made up of individuals who felt slighted at the fact they could no longer garner the support they once had with a war with Namalar.”

Francois stopped for a moment to take a drink before continuing. “This presents a significant risk for the Empire. I would like to ask for your consent for a Trade Direction Edict that any goods and people entering the Empire all make use of the Westion Wall. It will allow us to focus inspections on goods in this singular area to deter smuggling. To this I can guarantee, no hostile action will ever be taken by our border guards against any Namarian, we will turn them over to your people at the border if found to be transporting illicit goods. I would also like an assurance of non intervention from the Kingdom of Namalar, if the conflict becomes reality. We believe your people to be trustworthy and fair in all our dealings, a full permanent non-aggression pact and declaration of friendship would be beneficial to both our peoples.”

“Secondly, I would like to further build good relations with our people by establishing a proper trade agreement, in which goods and services can be freely transported across the border between our nations.” Francois proposed. “As you know our Empire is rich in various goods, its forests providing huge bounties of Hardwood. Likewise, some goods which exist inside Namalar would be of great interest to people of the Empire, such as its rich bounties of Salt and Antirium.”

As Francois broke directly into the point of his visit, Melorath lowered his leg and leaned forward, somewhat surprised by the sudden turn of events that the Emperor described. He listened closely, not out of only interest, but that he feared he would miss a second of the Emperor’s refined Kostuan speech and have trouble understanding.

Upon finishing, and offering his numerous deals and questions for Melorath, the Namarian ruler sat in silence for a few seconds. The rest of his delegation were intrigued as well, and looked between themselves and the Rolesians as they waited to see how Melorath would approach the matter. Certainly, General Neloril could not help but notice that the Emperor betrayed the vulnerability of his state, and pondered quietly if it was an intentional ruse to encourage Melorath to invade.

“I do not like to make decrees of people who act in their own enterprise, but I can see to this, only if you agree as well that any Rolesian trade destined to Namalar or through our lands passes through the same border.”

Melorath gave his answer in parts, thinking over and reflecting on each demand and request that Francois had made. Though he did not look behind him, he could tell that Hyvas and Ralvoth were perplexed as to why he acquiesced at all. Neloril, who was more intimately familiar with his King, likely understood his motives.

“To that purpose, I can assure that my people are encouraged and made aware of the prospects of trade and mutual respect with the Rolesians; though, I question that you put me in a difficult, perplexing position. You desire an opening of trade, yet you claim violence and that a clique of war-minded individuals infest your country. What promise can I, or they, have that will protect them from harm, whether incidental or targeted?”

"My Chancellor Enzo can easily arrange a decreed mutual border where goods and people can make good with their own prospects of fortunes, and can even provide writs and seals from a permanent magistrate to ensure easy and toll free movements for Namarian merchants. We do not wish to burden your state with an anarchic or unfair system of trade." Francois explained. "As for the violence which could escalate, these groups are unorganised, underequipped, and sporadic rather than any unified fighting force. Meanwhile we are equipped with a strong standing army that can easily move to crush their dissent, provided things stay as they are."

Francois paused for a moment thinking over Meloraths request for protections. "Your loyalty to your people is admirable. In the Empire we protect the rights of all who abide by the law. I can assure you, that the Rolesian crown will issue an Imperial proclamation guaranteeing the safety of any Namarian subjects which pass through the borders of the Empire, and back it with force of arms. They will be defended as if they were citizens of the Empire. Any violators of this will be removed…permanently. This, I will give you my oath."

Francois paused for a moment, before adding "I and a huge amount of the Empire see the people of Namalar as not enemies, but friends to be made. We would like to continue a long and healthy relationship and can see an easy road towards a bright future for us both where we can partner and share in mutual prosperity for generations to come."

“Good, good.” Melorath said thinking. “Now as per your final request, you desire non-aggression?”

He inquired, taking a moment to consider the prospect while he leaned back, reassuming his casual, relaxed posture from before.

“Yes, I do think this might be agreeable, but this significantly limits my power, as you know. This weakens the ability of my court to consider all possible avenues of defense and self-interest for us. It restrains the Teisma’s free will.”

Smiling, Melorath looked away for a moment, sharing a glance with Neloril that showed more than it said. Looking back to the Emperor, Melorath nodded.

“I will agree to this under one condition: the Rolesian Empire is to promise, and assure me, that they will not interfere or act against my kingdom and my military in any action it takes place north of our border. I, of course, guarantee the protection of Lydes and the free travel of all Rolesian merchants and gentry—but I want it agreed that the Empire will not interfere with our ambitions in the north, nor restrict or interfere with our goals."

Francois smiled. “More than agreeable. The north of the continent has become…significantly more complicated. The chaos that reigns in Syrduria and growing tension among the states have the Rolesian Empire thoroughly uninterested in anything outside of good relations and trade. We will not interfere or restrict your goals in any way if you can hold and follow through on these guarantees you can be assured that we will uphold ours.”

“Then this is something we can agree to, wholly.” The King answered, moving his lips in a slight smile. “I can assure that our side of this agreement shall be followed, as provided that the Rolesians act in good faith and generosity with us.”

“I assure you that I would not have come all this way to negotiate in bad faith.” Francois said, standing up. “Nor If that is us agreed then I would be more than happy to take this agreement back to Lydes with a smile upon our face. On behalf of the citizens of the Empire, I extend our thanks for your help in this matter.”

Francois lifted a glass nearby. “A toast, then. To a bright and prosperous future.”

Melorath relented, the rest of the Namari delegation pleased with the agreements that their king had reached. Pouring himself a cup of wine, he raised it up to Francois, and the two drank in honor of their states and newfound understanding.

With a deal in hand, the Rolesian delegation took their leave. Happy that an accord had been reached so that the Empire was free to handle its issues and work on things in the south. Francois knew now that the path was clear for the Empire to make ready for war, one which would shape the Empire for years to come.