Song of the Seren [IC]

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Prologue

If there is one thing the Seren are good at, it is war: expert tactics, unyielding courage, and incredible prowess are their hallmarks. If there are two things the Seren are good at, the second would have to be festivals, the better to commemorate victories, build camaraderie, and, as is the case today, celebrating momentous occasions.

There are few occasions in Seren history more momentous than this day. Today, King Xavox'oryx, he who is called the Herald of Siberys, the Unifier, the Fire-Souled, the Destined, and most importantly the first King of all the Seren, sets sail for the mainland of Khorvaire to put the Seren on the map, literally and figuratively. The Seren have long been ignored by the mainlanders, not out of malice but mostly out of ignorance; what possible effect could a small island's population have on the hustle and bustle of Khorvaire? But the transformation of the Seren people from a scattering of tribes into a unified force prompted the powers-that-be in Khorvaire to take notice of this little island as a potential trading partner and a large unknown in international politics. The twelve Dragonmarked Houses and the Five Nations wasted no time in coming together to extend an invitation to the Seren to discuss "the relationship between Seren Island and the various political entities of Khorvaire going forward," as the elegant invitation so nicely phrased it.

The sun is high in the sky when the first glimmer of light appears on the horizon. The glimmer blossoms into a flicker, then a steady glow, then a ring of fire encircling an airship. The airship grows closer by the minute, until it reaches the shore at almost precisely noon. Tens of thousands of Seren stand on the shores of Totem Beach to welcome its arrival, almost every single Seren on the island gathered for the historic occasion. The remnants of the past week's festivities--tents for the feasting and prayers, raised platforms for the speeches and well-wishing--have mostly been cleared away, leaving no barrier blocking the Serens' view. As the airship floats into view overhead, the fire elemental encircling its midsection flaring and crackling as it brings the vessel to a halt, a cheer rises from the assembled host at the sight. The emblems of the Houses and the Five Nations have been inscribed on the sides of the airship to give no doubt of its diplomatic mission, and the figurehead on the prow is a beautiful and intricate sculpture of Melkoryx, the battle dragon founder of Xavox'oryx's home tribe of the Bladesong; smaller sculptures of the other tribes' founders dot the railings all the way down the sides of the ship.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Several warforged drop over the railing into the soft white sand of Totem Beach, each holding onto a long chain which they then use to pull the airship down and in. When the keel of the airship hovers mere feet above the beach and the now-diminished elemental ring is causing steam to rise from the surf, a ramp is lowered and several elegantly-dressed humanoids of various races descend, each bowing in turn to the Seren King. The assembled Seren calm down and for once quiet rules the beach. One of the newcomers unfurls a scroll and holds a small crystal to his mouth; when he speaks, his voice echoes loudly enough for the entire Seren nation to hear. "Greetings, mighty Seren! The Dragonmarked Houses and Five Nations of the continent of Khorvaire extend you our most heartfelt thanks for your gracious welcome, and express the hope that from the outset our respective peoples will be bound in friendship and brotherhood! We also wish to convey our congratulations to King Xavox'oryx on his elevation to so high a position of honor and significance, a reflection of this new historic stage in the histories of both Seren Island and Khorvaire. We wish you and your people, your Majesty, the greatest success in your endeavors." More cheers rise from the Seren as the herald bows once more and returns his scroll to its container.

Behind Xavox'oryx stands his father Chief Ramatep of the Bladesong tribe. In the King's absence, his father has been named Regent, and will rule in his name. The aged chief places a gloved hand on his son's shoulder and smiles broadly. The small scar at the corner of his mouth, a relic of the battle between the two over the axe Resonance, turns it into a half-smile, but Ramatep's pride and joy shine through. He leans down and whispers a few words of wisdom to his son before his departure, then pulls Xavox into a firm embrace. Over his father's shoulder, Xavox can see a tall, middle-aged man clad in bronze armor wink at him: no one else present knows that this man is actually Shakkar, Xavox's bronze dragon friend and a renowned scholar, but he is here to support his old friend, and that's what counts. He will also be keeping an eye one some of the new arrivals, as they will be staying on the island to trade knowledge and learn more about each others' culture; only scholars and historians really know more than the absolute basics about Serens on the mainland, seeing as learning more about them would require coming too close to Argonnessen for most peoples' comfort, and with the current political goings-on it was decided that that should change.

There are no more speeches to be made, so Xavox's entourage simply gather around him and prepare to board the airship. A chant rises from the crowd: "Xa-vox! Xa-vox! Xa-vox-or-yx! Xa-vox! Xa-vox! Xa-vox-or-yx!" The finest and bravest of each tribe join the king, his royal guard, and his advisors, and the procession boards the airship as the chant rises to a crescendo. All too soon, everyone is aboard and the airship is unmoored. A bright flare of light, a crackle and roar of flame, and the airship shoots high into the air and begins its voyage back to the mainland. The chant dissolves into scattered cheers and declarations of love and congratulations, then into an indistinct roar as the airship leaves the island behind.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Chapter 1: The Players Assemble

While all of the delegation's gear is stowed and logistics are being taken care of, Xavox is led to a trio of cushioned chairs near the helm by one of the sailors, who says the captain will be with him shortly and would he like to take a seat in the meantime? The helmsman--or rather, helms-half-elf--nods once, politely, to Xavox when he arrives, but otherwise pays him no mind, presumably focused on piloting the vessel. Several minutes pass in friendly silence, then a burly human wearing a fancy green coat and golden epaulets climbs the stairs to the helm and smiles in Xavox's direction. The man sweeps his tricorner hat off his head in a practiced bow and takes a seat in one of the chairs, offering his hand to Xavox. "It is certainly an honor to meet you in person, your Majesty," he says. The man's voice is low and gravelly and sounds used to barking orders to his sailors, but his tone is cheerful and his smile is genuine. "Welcome to the Radiant Dawn, I hope you'll have a wonderful voyage with us. I'm Maximilian Crebain, captain of this lovely vessel. My apologies for the sparse accommodations up on deck; there are some fancier chairs in my cabin and in your stateroom, but I figured you'd appreciate the open air and the view more."

Captain Crebain waves a hand to encompass the deck below. "My sailors are at your service, of course, just say the word and they'll fetch you anything you need. We have a tailor and a butler onboard, a chef...every comfort provided for to make you feel at home." He shades his hand against the sun and looks toward the fore of the ship, where several Seren have clustered around a half-orc dressed in colorful clothes, who from his gestures and their laughter appears to have captivated them with a good story. The captain chuckles a bit, making his thick mustache bounce. "I see some of your subjects have already met Sebastian. He's our navigator, but he's also our entertainment. He's been practically everywhere, been flying the skies since before I was born...he has a tale for every occasion, he writes, he sings, and he cooks a mean jambalaya. I wasn't really told how familiar you are with the Five Nations, so if you want to know anything about Khorvaire--or practically anything else, for that matter--he's your man." Crebain jerks a thumb at the helmsman. "You've met Ravek already. Well, perhaps 'met' is too strong, he hardly says a word. How's it going, Ravek?" The half-elf smiles politely, but remains silent. "His grandmother is the Lyrandar matriarch, and she pulled some strings to have him assigned as the pilot for this voyage. She's definitely taken an interest in you and your people, and she doesn't normally do that, so you've certainly managed to impress her."

Someone coughs discreetly behind you, and the captain stands. "Ah, just the elf I wanted to see. King Xavox'oryx, this is Ambassador Taelendril. She's been assigned as the primary diplomat to the Seren people on behalf of the Five Nations." Taelendril doesn't bow, but rather nods her head and clasps her left hand to her chest in the traditional Seren style. <May your path be straight and your shield stout, your Majesty, and may the grace of Melkoryx shine on you this day,> she says in Argon. The traditional greeting of the Bladesong tribe rolls off the ambassador's tongue in a musical accent, and she speaks the language of Argonnessen as if she were born there. A moment later, her solemn expression gives way to a small smile, and in unaccented Common she continues, "I have done my research on your people, Sire, and what a marvelous people the Seren are. I have been appointed by the Five Nations to serve as an advisor to you in all matters political, economic, and social during your stay in the Five Nations, and to serve as a liaison to your people thereafter should the negotiations proceed as planned. I will be briefing you on the procedures and expectations of the conference over the next few days, in general terms, but if there is anything else you wish to know in the meanwhile, please do not hesitate to ask."

The ambassador clasps her hand to her chest again, and the captain does the same, looking at her out of the corner of his eye to make sure he does it right. "Once again, your Majesty, welcome aboard. I hope you enjoy the trip."

[TekHed]

Xavox and his retinue were dressed in their finest regalia for the occasion. The Seren liege wore a fur-lined darkly cured leather vest intricately embossed with gilded stylized dragons over a sleeveless mail shirt made of impossibly small mithral rings. The cut of the vest showcased his amply muscled and tanned biceps that slid into elbow length metal bracers engraved with geometric jagged lightning-like patterns and then into fingerless leather gauntlets. A broad war girdle covered his waist in the form of a draconic ouroboros with an ingeniously devised clasp that allowed the working dragon's jaw to clamp down upon it's tail. His shoulders were covered with the Bladesong's cloak of leadership, composed of large dull brown overlapping plates...shed scales of Melkoryx himself. Perhaps most striking of all however, were the similar scales that ran up the Herald's right arm, disappearing into the vest and reappearing up the side of his neck and part of his face around the eye. An eye that gleamed with golden iris around a dark vertical slit, in contrast to the icy blue and all too human pupil of it's mate.

Boryx nodded at the delegation's greeting and formalities, but instead of taking the proffered seating, moved to to the prow of the ship, forcing the diplomat to scurry after him as he stood stoically admiring the figurehead and the expansive view of the ocean from such an altitude. Always near his side was the captain of his royal guard, Dasmina, resplendent in a full suit of red dragonscale plate armor, white, gold trimmed cloak billowing in the wind.

Meanwhile, by the Captain, Xavox's two younger brothers, identical twins even more massive than their King, took the two seats beside him and began combing through the trays of fruits and fine wines spread out on the adjoining low table. Ghadrin, druid, dragonspeaker, and the closest advisor to the king approached the Captains chair. He was very old, yet his muscles still hinted at their former youthful vigor, the remnants of a long and accomplished career as a hunter and woodsman. Simple brown robes were bound by an equally simple braid of hemp, over which he wore a poncho-like tunic made from a single leaf of what must have been a truly titanic tree. His gray and silver hair was wild and wavy and it spilled down his back in cascading waves. His clean shaven face was as weathered as his body, though the light of wisdom, and good humor shone from within his mirthful eyes. At his side, crouched like a great hunting cat, was his companion, Wyzzlewyp. The tiger-sized faerie dragon raised quite a few concerned eyebrows from the crew of the ship, though it soon curled contentedly near his old friend, green and blue scales reflecting the flickering light of the elemental ring in their iridescence.

"We are honored by you and your crew, and your Baroness the Firstborn," Ghadrin replied diplomatically. "How long is the voyage to Sharn?"

Meanwhile at the prow, the keen eyes of the Seren king turned from the sea to gaze deeply into the eyes of the elven diplomat. That gaze was fierce and uncanny, for if eyes were the windows to the soul, they could barely contain the draconic majesty within. Xavox stared for a long moment, sizing up his assigned liaison, picking apart her honeyed words for any clues he might glean. Seeming to judge her worthy, at length he spoke.

"I too have studied the history of your continent and your dragonmarked houses. Tell me, will the Barons of each House be present in person at the conference?"

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Taelendril adapts to Xavox's movement, following him with typical elven grace and giving no outward sign of distress as she smoothly pivots to follow him to the railing. Only the slight quirk of one eyebrow indicates that she is sizing up Xavox and analyzing his actions as much as he is analyzing her. The diplomat's expression doesn't hint at her opinion of the king's apparent snub, and she has yet to crack a smile. "Each House has the choice to send either their patriarch or matriarch, or one designated representative of their choice, depending on their preferences. Most of the Houses have left the particulars of their envoy vague in case any last-minute adjustments need to be made, as is the way of such things, but House Lyrandar has committed their matriarch to attend, a strong show of support for this endeavor. House Phiarlan and House Thuranni have each committed representatives. I hope you do not take that as a slight against you or your people, Sire, for it is not intended as such. It is simply that the barons of those two Houses remain on...less-than-cordial terms, and do their best to remain out of each others' presence as much as possible. They will be sending their seneschals in their respective steads."

The elf's gaze is fixed on the horizon while she explains, her tone neutral, not passing judgment upon the workings of the Houses. She continues, "House Cannith has committed a Baron. I assume you are aware of the current schism in the House, as well as the Barons' respective opinions regarding the ultimate leader of the House. Baron Merrix d'Cannith is based in Sharn and does not appreciate his siblings intruding on his territory, but he also has less interest in global politics, so the odds are even regarding whether he will personally attend or allow his brother or sister to do so. Essentially, which of the Barons attends will signal Cannith's position almost as much as anything they say during the conference. Zorlan is seen to be focused on profit but influenced overmuch by the Karrnathi government, so his presence would likely indicate that Cannith is content to following the prevailing political and economic winds and agree with the Five Nations and other Houses regarding most decisions. Jorlanna is seen to be focused on uniting Cannith at all costs but is less trusted by the other Houses, so her presence would likely indicate that Cannith is prepared to ally with Seren regardless of others' opinions. Merrix is seen to be focused on advancing Cannith's research and magical advantage but is fairly apathetic regarding politics, so his presence would likely indicate that Cannith has yet to fully decide on the matter, but that this matter is intriguing enough to pull Merrix out of his laboratory."

She is quiet for a few moments, then glances sideways at Xavox, and in a noncommittal tone she notes, "Your interest in our own customs and prior knowledge of the powers-that-be is much appreciated, Sire, and of course not unexpected. I am sure you have come across the proper protocols for this sort of conference in your readings already, which will make things proceed much more smoothly. Proper protocol is always appreciated by those in power, after all, and several the currently-unaligned Houses would likely appreciate that." Her tone is not one of reprimand--she wouldn't dare that, of course, no one on this vessel would, even if they didn't all hold plenty of respect for Xavox--but merely an indicator that some of the other Houses might be persuaded more by their opinion of whether the "barbaric" Seren can fit into "civilized" society, without coming out and saying so directly.

On the other side of the helm, Captain Crebain seems more than happy to let the political big-wigs have their own conversation, and he relaxes slightly when the diplomat and the king move away. He makes his introductions to Xamot and Tomax and begins animatedly pointing out his favorite vintages among the wines provided and recommending good cheese and fruit pairings for them. He explains that his usual cargo is luxury goods and high-class consumables, particularly alcohol and spices but also the rarer fruits and meats, and so he is somewhat of an enthusiast for such goods. He just finishes relating an amusing anecdote about the Q'Barra mango groves when Ghadrin approaches him.

"No no, sir, the honor is all ours. I'm always happy to welcome such pleasant and distinguished passengers aboard," he replies modestly. "As to the duration of our voyage, given steady winds, good weather, and no interference, we should arrive in Sharn in just under 5 days. Your standard airship would take just over 7 to make that trip, but the Dawn has received a few special modifications to make her faster and safer, some for this delegation specifically and some just for efficiency's sake over the years." The captain waves a hand in the helmsman's direction. "And of course having an expert pilot at the helm helps with that, too." Ravek, silent as usual, simply nods at the compliment.

"I hope you don't mind being cooped up for that long. We won't need to be making many course corrections, so all of you are welcome to stay abovedecks as much as you'd like, you won't be getting in anyone's way. Unless we run into any pirates, of course, but that's very unlikely--first of all, no one would be stupid enough to attack this airship, and second of all there aren't many independent airsihps out there; I can only think of 11 of us offhand, and that's independent captains and pirates together. So I wouldn't worry about that. And besides, I'm sure with Seren warriors on board we wouldn't have to worry about any sort of boarding."

[TekHed]

Xavox nodded, pleased. Of course they would have sent a knowledgeable envoy, but such things were always worth putting to the test.

"Excellent Ambassador. Your insight is most appreciated. What of the Five Nations? Who can I expect to meet among the monarchs of Khorvaire?"

Meanwhile, Ghadrin smiled at the Captains assessment. "Indeed, such an action would prove costly indeed. However, we are still quite vulnerable while airborne should anyone desire to scuttle your fine ship here into the abyssal waters below. How many are aware of our precise route?"

Meanwhile, Xamot and Tomax continued to play their role of carefree dandies, all the while keeping a surreptitious keen eye upon the crew of the ship. Xamot seemed distracted with eavesdropping upon the boistrous conversation surrounding Salty Sebastian. Dasmina as always kept watch over their illustrious brother with a doting devotion.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Taelendril purses her lips in response to the king's question. "The situation with the Five Nations is less pleasant, I am afraid, Sire. The Houses are always on the lookout for more trading partners, so even those among them most reluctant to deal with outsiders approached the idea of this conference with enthusiasm. Many politicians and nobles among the Five Nations, however, view Seren as a wild card and threat to their power, though of course they have not expressed their disagreement with the conference in precisely those terms. King Kaius III, the monarch of Karrnath for the past 8 years as I am sure you recall, has sent as his envoy Prince Kaius IV, his younger and less-favored child. While this has not been publicly presented as a statement of disfavor, and the king and heiress both have legitimate reasons to decline attending, it is not a good sign for your relations with Karrnath." The ambassador glances sideways at Xavox as if to judge his reaction.

"Aundair," she continues, "has chosen Lord Darro to be their representative. He is one of the Triumvirate, the commander of the Aundairan military next to Queen Aurala, the nation's political leader, and First Warlord Adal, its economic minister. The fact that the 'public face' of Aundair, if you will, will not be putting in an appearance but will instead be sending a military general in her place is worrisome, but not conclusive. I would not predict that they are opposed to any sort of alliance, exactly, but I would watch Lord Darro with care." She raps her knuckles idly against the railing. "Flame willing, the other three Nations will carry through with their promises to send their respective monarchs; you should have less trouble dealing with them."


The Captain shrugs, waving off Ghadrin's concern. "Nothing to worry about there, sir. The only ones who know our route are Ravek and myself. The five-day estimate I quoted includes some course changes and interesting maneuvering while we pass over Aerenal and Zilargo, and there's really nowhere to hide in the open ocean, so the potential for an ambush is practically zero and we'll see any pirates long before they get here. The trick at that point is just repelling any boarders we can't outrun, and I bet you there aren't many airships we couldn't outrun, mark my words."


Below on the main deck, Salty Sebastian finishes his story with a triumphant "...and that's why, to this day, every ship sailin' 'round those parts carries two lambs and an accordion!" to much laughter and a stirring round of applause. He bows with a flourish and shoos the deckhands back to their duties, then looks up and smiles. He waves to Xamot as he approaches the ladder to the helm, limping slightly. Two of the warforged soldiers stationed around the deck move to block his path, but the captain calls out "It's alright, Adamant, Bolt, he can come up." When he pulls himself up to join everyone on the top deck, everyone can get a closer look at the eclectic sailor. His colorful clothes appear to be of finer material than they were at first glance, and his silver hair--well, what sparse hair is still clinging to his scalp for dear life, anyway--is pulled back into a ponytail. An eyepatch covers his right eye, though whether it is functional or decorative is hard to tell, and a few scars crisscross his thick forearms and grinning face.

"Ah, mornin', lads!" the half-orc calls out in his cheerful baritone. "I noticed one o' ye were listenin' to ol' Salty's shanties. I be glad to see that this ol' sailor's tales can hold the attention of landlubbers such as yerselves. I betcher didn't think a lil' beast like a raven could scare away th' likes of a sea terror like that, didyer, partic'larly when it were already wrapped around that ol' creaky tub o' a ship, eh? Ah, and there be the wee beasty now, aye! Ye've finished yer supper, ye lout, now come down and be polite to th' cap'n's guests!" He raises his left hand, and a raven pokes its head over the edge of the aptly-named crow's nest and flutters down to land on his shoulder. "This be Lady Branwen, th' brave bird from th' tale. Say 'ello, m'Lady!" *caw, caw!* "'Atta girl, 'atsa good girl. Now, I don't suppose either o' ye strappin' lads'd like to hear another tale," he turns to Ghadrin and tips an imaginary hat, "or ye, fine sir? If'n ye'd like to know anything 'bout the waters 'round Khorvaire, factual or fictional, Salty Sebastian's yer man."

[TekHed]

Xavox raised an eyebrow at Taelendril's choice of words.

"Are you a follower of the Silver Flame Ambassador?" he asked.

Up on the bridge Ghadrin chuckled. "Please Sebastion, let us stick with just the facts for today...truth is often stranger than fiction, is it not?"

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ambassador Taelendril shrugs minutely. "Follower is perhaps too strong a word. My parents were rather religious residents of Flamekeep, so I have picked up many of their expressions over the years, and I am not the only 'cultural Flamite' you will meet in Khorvaire. These days, 'Flame willing' is merely an expression of hope or luck for many Thranish, as much as 'knock on wood' is for the Brelish," she explains, rapping her knuckles against the railing again for emphasis.

She clasps her hands in front of her and continues, "I hope, your Majesty, that my religious views or those of other Khorvairians--or possibly a lack thereof--will not prove problematic for this delegation. I have studied your culture as much as I was able with what knowledge we have, but there was scant information regarding your views regarding our religions and culture. If you anticipate any sort of dramatic conflict of views, it would be best to handle that now before any sort of...incident would be caused."


To Ghadrin, Sebastian replies with a laugh of his own, "Aye, factual or fictional, fictual or factional, I can guarantee ye, ye've seen naught stranger in this world than I seen with me own two eyes. And one eye o' mine"--he jerks a thumb at his eyepatch--"were poked out nigh on four-and-twenty years ago, so that's sayin' somethin'!" After another hearty belly laugh, Sebastian pulls himself up onto a railing, sits down facing Ghadrin and the twins, and pulls out a fancy dwarvish smoking pipe. "But if'n ye'd prefer to stick to th' everyday, the mundane, the worldly, the seeable, and the true, 'tis all the same to me."

The half-orc adds some tobacco from his pocket to his pipe as he says this, and when he finishes he snaps a finger, causing a small flame to burst to life on the tip of his thumb. He lights the pipe and takes a few puffs before waving the flame out. "Hope ye don't mind an old man indulging his habit. Now, what were it ye wanted to hear about, fine sir?"

[TekHed]

Xavox nodded, musing over the elf's words.

"In ancient times the Flame was created from the sacrifice of the couatl's, allies of the great races of dragons, to imprison the demons of old within the Dragon Below. The force is a noble one, however history has shown that the institutions of worship do not always follow the ideals they espouse. Like all matters of consequence, destiny is forged through the actions and choices of the individual."

The barbarian monarch gazed up at the great firgurehead upon the prow.

"Tell me Taelendril...what know you of the Bladesong's great founder?"

Ghadrin was about to reply when Tomax spoke up, seeming to be rather enjoying his apparent inebriation and slurring his words slightly.

"How did ye lose yer eye then Salty? Must make for a good story, or you'd have had it healed or replaced by now..."

Ghadrin smirked at the petulant twins. Though they played the part of fops they were among their brother's staunchest defenders. The slurring of his words was intentional no doubt. The old druid said nothing, but reached out with a friendly hand by way of asking for a draw off the dwarven pipe, raising an eyebrow to indicate his interest in the tale as well. Meanwhile, his tiger-sized faerie dragon padded about smelling at the various crew members who seemed startled by the curious creature.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

"We know of Draya'gos the Battle Maiden and some of her more famous deeds, such as when she and her song dragon consort Amraneskh sank a small invading fleet, when she fought the great red dragon Onthalorax over the right to found your tribe, when she forged the powerful magical weapons Resonance and Momentum and gave them to great heroes of your tribe--both members of your extended family, if I am not mistaken--and several other tales," the ambassador recites. "Of course, most of our knowledge of this originates from our few contacts in Argonnessen, so we know of those aspects of her story relevant to the dragons and to international--relations, powerful weapons, important deaths and treaties, and such--but very little about her actions as they relate to your tribe in particular."

The elf is quiet for a moment, then continues in a diplomatic tone, obviously choosing her words carefully. "It is of course not the place of a...nonbeliever such as myself to question whether the teachings of the Church of the Silver Flame are correct or desirable, Sire, but...if one were to suggest to non-Flamites that perhaps the Church's official practices and the Church's official dogma are...not currently, ah, perfectly aligned, one would likely hear more agreement than disagreement with such a statement. It is possible, though not at all guaranteed, that the Church will want to ensure that the Thranish delegate to the conference is a...devout...Flamite, and it is entirely possible that such beliefs would...impact the conference in some way. I would personally advise against engaging in a theological debate in such a setting, but the Thranish envoy may disagree."


Sebastian happily hands over his pipe to Ghadrin and leans back with a smile to Tomax. "Oh, ye be right, it be a great tale indeed, lad. And I did try to get this eye o' mine healed, but the gods-damned beast's claws, they were cursed, and all o' the finest Jorasco half-heights could ne'er make heads nor tails wit' the thing. But that's gettin' ahead o' meself. Lemme start at the start and keep talkin' from there. So, 'twere me eleventh posting at sea, ship's cook on the Onyx Serpent, sailing out o' the Lhazaar Principalities. The ship were carryin' a valuable cargo that'd been liberated very quiet-like from a Karrnathi merchant vessel, and we were on the run from the Karrnathi Navy who were under th' impression that the goods were still theirs. The cap'n decided to make for the Frostfell to lose the pursuit, and boy, were that a fateful decision...."

Sebastian goes on to tell the story of his missing eye, a brief but engrossing tale involving icy beasts, black magic, primitive tribes, a frying pan, an oracle, two marriage engagements, a bunch of bananas, several chests of sapphires, two intelligent swords, copper wires, a kidnapped nymph, three pirate gangs, a massive ballista, and a baby pegasus named Brownie. "...and if'n I'd been but the slightest hair slower in duckin' behind its fourth tentacle, I'd've lost me nose as well! Ah, Princess Ulviirala...if'n there were two things she were good at, it were shapechangin' magic and holdin' grudges. What a woman. And that's how I lost me eye."

[TekHed]

"...and what of great Melkoryx himself?" Xavox prodded as she finished her explanation. "Surely you know that Draya'gos founded the clan on behest of one of the great race, as were all of the Seren tribes."

He looked up at the statue once more.

"A striking resemblance this is. I ask because someone has obviously done their homework."

Meanwhile Ghadrin puffed upon the proffered pipe. " An entertaining tale indeed. You know, there are magical means of replacing vision...certain enchanted crystals and the like..."

[PairO'Dice Lost]

"According to our sources," Taelendril replies, looking slightly to the left of Xavox's head as if mentally rereading a book she has memorized, "each Seren tribe has a 'spiritual' founder of great age, who endows their tribe with knowledge of their favored magical and martial traditions, while their 'historical' founder is generally a younger dragon who receives permission from the spiritual founder to live in the tribe's territory, guard them from interlopers, and so forth. Both founder-dragons are generally of the same race and alignment, but a few exceptions exist, such as the Bringers of Fire who were founded by both a red and a pyroclastic dragon, and the Ironthorns, whose founders were both arboreal dragons though one was lawful in alignment and the other was chaotic."

Looking back at the king, the ambassador quickly qualifies her statement with, "Of course, it is entirely possible for us to be mistaken on that point. When dealing with other cultures, knowledge of their religion and creation myths is always the most tentative, as more than one explorer has discovered that many cultures are willing to kill over inadvertent insults to their patrons. I do not know who chose the statues, personally, I know only that they were scholars unconnected to the delegation. I would be happy to convey your regards if they chose correctly...or," and she looks like she might almost want to smile at this point, "to convey your displeasure should they have been mistaken."


Sebastian takes his pipe back when Ghadrin is finished and waves away the dragonspeaker's objections. "Nah, there'll no magical patch-me-ups for ol' Salty. There's a story behind every one o' me scars and lost bits o' me, and I'd lose th' opportunity to tell curious folk those stories were I to get them all fixed up. 'Sides, warforged parts and crystals and suchlike are too expensive for a poor ol' navigator whose captain pays him naught but a handful of coppers every month." The half-orc grins a toothy grin at the captain, who rolls his eyes and shoots back "And five percent off the top of all completed cargo runs, or did you forget about signing that little contract?" "Ah, well, that goes into the Kundarak vaults to support all the lil' Salties runnin' around back home. You wound me, Cap'n, if'n ye think I'd buy meself an eye at th' expense of me lil' tykes."

"Yes, that's our Salty Sebastian, all right, the kindest-hearted son of a shark you ever will meet," the captain says sardonically. "Here's a tip for you, Dragonspeaker: never challenge our navigator to a game of poker. He hasn't done an honest day's work on the Dawn since he started playing Aundairan reversed six-cards against new sailors with shifts and duties as the ante."

[TekHed]

"Is it wise to pawn off navigation duies? Or would his lack of depth perception merely throw us off course?" Ghadrin chided.

Meanwhile at the bow, Xavox sighed.

"Your scholars have not been to Io'lokar, city of knowledge. It is understandable, that they would attribute such myths to our people. No, the history of the Seren is far more ancient than they would believe. Over one hundred millennia ago, thirty tribes of humans were brought to our island. Each one lead by a founder wyrm. Draya'gos was the first leader of my tribe, and very much a human, though it is rumored she took Melkoryx in human guise into her bed chambers. Otherwise, no dragon has set foot on Seren since the founding of the tribes. The great races keep to their island and we to ours...for the most part." Xavox winked his draconic eye at her. "Most Seren will never descend the far side of the Great Barrier."

[PairO'Dice Lost]

The ambassador arches her eyebrows in interest as Xavox explains. "Very interesting. If you do not mind, Sire...?" She retrieves a small pad of paper and a quill from one of her belt pouches and scribbles down a few notes, continuing to speak as she does so: "It is likely the poetry describing her relationship with Melkoryx that led our scholars to come to their conclusions. Given your explanation, my best guess is that there was a figurative turn of phrase--something along the lines of "the two dragons, their scales intertwined"--which was meant to describe a shield formation or, ahem, perhaps some activities in the bedroom, that was instead taken to be more literal."

Taelendril finishes taking notes and stows them back in her pouch. "After the conference is finished, I think I shall arrange for you to meet with some of the Zil scholars from the Library of Korranberg, to explain more of your history to them and possibly direct them to Io'lokar, if you would be willing, Sire. I have a feeling they would learn more from a few hours' discussion with you than from weeks poring over ancient and incomplete manuscripts. Also," she says, almost looking embarrassed at the thought, "our scholars have indeed taken your people to be more...shall we say, mythologically-oriented, than you actually are. It would do them well to have their preconceptions corrected."


"Oh, no no, not the important duties," the captain laughs. "No, we only trust Salty with those. I'm talking about the normal day-to-day duties that the crew share. Swabbing the decks, repairing ropes and lines, re-lacquering the guidance fins, that sort of thing. Deckhand stuff, you know. I don't think Salty's even touched a mop in, what, months, at least?" "Nay, Cap'n, a good while longer'n that. I've swabbed nary a deck these last four years or thereabouts, and thank the Host for that." The half-orc grins again and holds out his hands, turning them over to display rough, calloused palms and deeply-tanned backs. "I wouldn't want to bruise me tender hands, and y'know how delicate me skin is, can't hardly bear the sun's touch."

The navigator laughs heartily, as does the captain. It's obvious from their banter that these two go a long way back, and the crew obviously loves them both. "Speakin' o' tender things," Salty continues, glancing at the twins, "I'm wonderin' what the two o' ye are here for. We got the King," he points to Xavox, "and the Queen," he points to Dasmina, "and the Jack," he points to Ghadrin, "and an adorable lil' Ace," he points to Wyzzlewyp. "What are a pair o' Jokers doin' aboard? Seems to me the king ain't just takin' his family to the Continent for a sight-seein' tour, and ye both don't strike me as the talkin' type. If'n ye don't mind me askin', o' course."

[TekHed]

Xavox turned to the old seadog, tossing him a ripe fruit. "Tender I'm sure, like a babe's round bottom." the hulking human jested in return. "Likely you're the real joker of the lot here." Tomax continued. "Our place is by our brothers side. While he handles the affairs of his station, it is we he entrusts to the mundane administration of his reign."

Xavox turned an eye to Dasmina. "Though her duty pains her daily, his Grace has yet to take a bride." He winked at the half orc. "There's still time if you want to make your move..."

The laughter was quickly cut short as Xavox and Ambassador Taelendril returned to the Captain's deck.

Xavox, in perhaps a surprising display of humility, took to one knee in a bow before Captain Crebain.

"I am pleased with your ship good Captain. I entrust to you the safekeeping and delivery of my family and I to your continent. May warm winds be ever at your back." he added, a common blessing among mariners.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

The half-orc catches the fruit tossed to him and takes a big bite, giving no reply to the twins' claim to be mere administrators. To the comments about Dasmina, he gives a hearty laugh. "Oh, even if'n I weren't already happily married these past three-and-twenty years, I know better'n that," Salty responds wryly. "The lovely lass has the air o' one married to her duties, and a lowly leathery ol' map-reader like meself can't hardly compete with that. And if'n I were to try to pick up a lass on the side, well...the missus can knock a fly off a horse's back at twenty paces with her knives--" Salty sighs and smiles wistfully "--and I wouldn't have it any other way!"


The captain automatically responds with the customary "And may strong winds ever fill your sails" before he processes who exactly is kneeling before him. "Oh! Your Majesty! Please, I am but a humble captain! Your approval greatly honors me, and I will do everything in my power to see you and your family safely on your way to Knorvaire, and to your homeland on your return. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me and my crew and take a look at the Dawn. Your luggage should all be stowed in the stateroom by now, so if you're ready, I'll have a few of the hands show you to your quarters."

As the king and his entourage file down the stairs to the main deck, Taelendril tells Xavox, "It has indeed been a pleasure, Sire. My own quarters are on the opposite side of the Dawn from your party's, but I am available at any hour should you have any questions for me. I would like to start going over the general protocols for this conference tomorrow morning, if you would not mind, Sire, so I will have several of the appropriate books sent to your room for your perusal and then we can convene after breakfast to review them and answer any of your questions."

[TekHed]

Xavox nodded and took to his stateroom, while Dasmina stood watch to be relieved through the night by her lieutenants. Ghadrin, in his role as Dragonspeaker, went to bunk with the Bladesong warriors in their berth below, Wyzzlwyp curling into a ball nearby. The twins elected to sleep up on deck, beneath the glowing warmth of the elemental ring, and the radiance of the twelve moons.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Interlude

The rest of the journey passes without incident, fortunately, giving the crew and the Serens the opportunity to get to know each other and allowing all parties to prepare for the upcoming event.

------------------------------------

"...which essentially means that you will set the tone of the meeting. You will be introduced as King and whichever baron receives you will be introduced as appropriate," Taelendril lectures Xavox and any Seren who accompany him while they all sit near the bow of the ship, beneath the wind vanes. "If you are met by, say, the Lyrandar matriarch and you, Xavox, address her as 'Baron d'Lyrandar,' it will signal that you wish the meeting to proceed in a more formal and regimented manner, but referring to her simply as 'Esravash' will signify that you do not wish to stand on protocol overmuch. Your choice may influence their opinion of you and your people, so choose carefully."

She has been explaining the ins and outs of Khorvarian etiquette to Xavox and his retainers for the past few days, ensuring that they are prepared for whatever might transpire. The Seren, of course, are no strangers to politicking and never need to hear a given piece of information twice; on the second day of the journey, the ambassador wryly comments that she wished her pupils in the diplomatic corps were so skilled and attentive.

------------------------------------

It would appear that Ravek is still an unknown quantity to the crew, as they don't seem to be familiar with him yet and have started up a game of Try To Make The Taciturn Helmsman Smile, welcoming any Seren who want to join them. The half-elf regards them with aloof detachment, but never cracks a smile; he never even leaves the helm, keeping both hands on the wheel by day and merely sleeping on the deck while sitting cross-legged in front of the wheel by night in case he is needed during the night shift. One of the sailors tries to sneak up on him at one point, presumably to do something incredibly stupid, but the helmsman is a light sleeper and a quick jolt of magical lightning persuades the crew not to try something like that again.

It rains on the third day of the journey. As the first drops begin to fall, the ambassador suggests that she take her tutoring session belowdecks, but stops when a bluish glow emanates from the helmsman's left sleeve as he calls on his dragonmark. A wave of his hand ruffles everyone's hair and clothing in a sudden burst of air as the wind changes direction to blow fiercely up and away from the ship, sending the rain off to the side. The tutoring session resumes at the stern of the ship with none of its members getting the slightest bit damp, though for whatever reason the wind does not protect the crew members. The crew member who snuck up on him finds ropes and lines swept out of his hands more than once by particularly fickle gusts of wind. A coincidence, surely.

------------------------------------

Those Seren who stay up during the night shift--most of them, as the "night shift" actually starts just after dusk--are able to meet the warforged members of the crew. They stay belowdecks while not on shift, handling cooking, repairs, and other mundane duties necessary to keep the Dawn in peak condition that don't require the direct attention of the ship's artificer, windsinger, or adept. The captain explains that they aren't trained primarily as sailors like the rest of the crew, but a smaller crew is needed at night given the lack of course corrections and weaker winds at night in this part of the world, so it's more efficient to put the multi-talented 'forged on shift instead of hiring more living crew.

The captain treats the 'forged like any others under his command, and Salty tells them inspirational and funny stories just like the day crew. They are treated as full crew members for all intents and purposes, and do not seem to be mistreated simply due to them not being fully alive--or, as Salty jokingly puts it, due to them being "alternately-animated individuals." While this shouldn't be notable in the slightest, sadly Xavox has found in his studies that there is still lingering prejudice against these "living weapons" in Khorvaire. The 'forged don't really interact with the Seren passengers much, but when they do they are quite polite and friendly; their shared status as perceived outsiders to civilized Khorvarian society seems to have formed a bond between the two groups.

------------------------------------

Eventually, the towers of Sharn become visible on the horizon, and all of the off-duty crewmembers crowd into the ship's bow to catch a glimpse of home. It's been a long journey and they're eager to get some shore leave, and you can be sure that they'll parley exaggerated tales of the Seren for a few free drinks in the city's taverns. The Dawn swiftly approaches the city, and when it enters the city limits it doesn't maneuver into the usual airship flight lanes, but rather makes a beeline for the highest towers of the Central Plateau, bypassing the normal Sharn Watch inspection. The towers the ship passes are festooned with banners, some of House and national emblems, some of messages of welcome, and some simply bearing bright and cheery colors. The citizenry have all turned out to be a part of this momentous occasion, from the richest noble to the poorest commoner.

Sharn Watch and House Deneith guards surround the area to protect the airship and keep the peace. Flying carpets, winged cloaks, and other items of flight bear reporters and a few over-enthusiastic well-wishers dangerously close to the Dawn, and after one too many cries of "Ahem, 'scuse me sirs, quick question for you, Korranberg Chronicle..." a fancy bit of weatherworking courtesy of Ravek and the ship's windsinger clear a path through them. When the Dawn finally reaches its destination tower, everyone on board watches a cluster of robed figures on balconies place their hands to the floor and cause an ornate docking spire to shape itself out of the stone of the tower to receive the delegation.

Captain Crebain calls out last-minute orders as the spire draws closer. "Aft docking crew, drop fenders...now, tie off spring lines...now. Helm, move to bearing 45 by 33 by 17 on my mark...mark. Bring the elemental to three-quarters dormancy, please. Fore docking crew, ready clamps and boarding ramp. Attach...now." In a quieter voice meant not to carry beyond the airship's bounds, he directs, "Repellers, arm ballistas and swap in new wands, but be subtle about it. Casters, raise full wards, invisible ones only. No one goes on leave for the next six hours. We're going to be a target, so be ready for anything." He turns to Xavox and throws a crisp military salute. "Good luck with the negotiations, your Majesty, and Host's favor."

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Chapter 2: A Meeting of the Minds

Xavox stands in a lavishly-appointed antechamber within the tower, having taken care of the standard pleasantries and meaningless formalities. He is flanked by Taelendril on his left and Ravek on his right, both slightly behind him, with the Seren who accompanied him into the tower arrayed behind all three. As the ambassador explained during the voyage, Xavox will be able to take two Seren of his choice with him into the meeting, just as each of the others will be allowed two assistants of their own; this usually consists of one secretary and one bodyguard or advisor, but this isn't set in stone. Taelendril, as a neutral diplomat, is not attached to anyone's party and will be joining the meeting regardless, and Ravek is one of the two Lyrandar seconds per his matriarch's request.

The soft light from a magically-illuminated chandelier reflects from the white marble floor and gold fittings to fill the entire room with a warm glow. Several minutes pass while servants and attendants ensure that everyone is comfortable, no one is hungry or thirsty, the cushions are sufficiently comfortable, and so forth. Just when the wait is about to cross over from a "allowing our guests to recover from their voyage" length into "making our guests wait on principle" territory, a double door in the far side of the room slides open and three figures stride through it. All three are human and all wear the House Cannith emblem prominently. "Cannith, not Deneith or Kundarak?" murmurs Taelendril out of the corner of her mouth. "Interesting choice."

The central figure is of middling height, with immaculately trimmed dark hair and beard and a commanding presence. He is wearing a long leather coat resembling the unholy union of an admiral's double-breasted coat and a smith's protective apron, and every bit of clothing visible outside his coat has some sort of gem or sigil on it, from his be-ringed gloves to the goggles on his forehead. To his left is a younger red-headed lady, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and also wearing a leather coat, though her coat is closer to an apothecary's many-pocketed work cloak. To his right is a younger pale-haired man, this one wearing an extravagant gray-green suit and cloak combination; two wands are strapped to each hip, visible under his shifting cloak, and he too has several rings on his fingers.

The trio reach the assembled group as the doors slide shut behind them and stop just in front of Xavox. A herald standing unobtrusively off to the side announces "Presenting His Majesty Xavox'oryx, Grand Unifier of the Seren, Herald of Siberys, et cetera, and the Seren delegation. Khorvaire welcomes you all to Sharn." The two Cannith to the sides bow deeply from the waist to the King of the Seren while the central one nods sharply as if acknowledging an equal, which, in fact, he is as far as the Khorvarians are concerned. He places one hand on his chest, revealing a wand bracer peeking out of his long sleeve. "Good afternoon, King Xavox'oryx. Hope you enjoyed the trip. I am Baron Merrix d'Cannith. This" he gestures to his left "is Tarya d'Cannith, Head of Consumables Development in House Cannith, and this" he gestures to his other companion "is Korras d'Cannith, Head of Life Force Research."

His tone is clipped and perfunctory, though given the informality of his speech this is likely due to a love of efficiency rather than intended to be a slight against his guests. He clasps his hands behind his back and his eyes rove over the Seren. "If you would care to introduce your seconds, we can show you to the meeting room and get things rolling."

[TekHed]

Xavox held both arms out to his side, palms outward in the open-handed gesture of peace among the Seren.

The power of dragons emanated from the monarch, radiating preternatural charisma and filling his robust voice with layers of subtle soothing and persuasive harmonics.

"Greetings good Baron. I would say it is an honor to finally set foot upon your great continent," he smiled wryly "though that would be an inaccurate statement...indeed the wonder of Sharn is equal to anything I have seen on Argonessan."

He gestured to the wild-maned druid to his right, accompanied by his fey-winged faerie-dragon.

"Allow me to introduce my companion, Ghadrin, dragonspeaker of the Bladsong Tribe, and now, all of Seren."

To his left he gestured towards his guardian, resplendent in her full suit of red dragon plate.

"This is Dasmina, Captain of my Royal Guard and my personal protector."

Xavox did not mention his brothers, Tomax and Xamot, who stood nearby in silent meditation, maintaining their invisibility, as they watched over their brother.

Spoiler

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Social Draconic Aura active, Enthralling Voice active (DC 25). The twins are using adaptive style as a full round action to maintain their Swift Action Cloak of Deception Greater Invisibility each round. This limits their movement to a 5-foot step each round.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Baron d'Cannith allows a self-satisfied smile to play across his lips at the compliment to Sharn; he doesn't own or control the city by any means, but he likes to think of it as "his" city whenever he can snub his siblings by conducting important Cannith business here. He nods politely to Ghadrin and Dasmina. "A pleasure. This way, your majesty." He turns on his heels and begins walking quickly back the way he came, but his two companions are slower to do so. They are staring at Xavox while attempting to look like they aren't staring; the magical undertones in his voice have taken hold of their senses and they just can't help themselves.

Merrix takes three or four paces before he notices that his companions have fallen slightly behind. He looks back and raises an eyebrow at them, and when they don't look him in the eye he glances down at his left hand, where one of his rings is pulsing with a dim gray light. A frown creases his face, and he shoots a glance back at Taelendril, whose face is impassive. The baron shrugs and continues on, tapping his ring to put out its light. Taelendril moves slightly closer to Xavox and whispers in his native tongue, <I did not see you cast a spell, but whatever magic you used on Baron d'Cannith's associates seems to have caught his attention. I would advise against repeating that during the meeting.>

You pass a few doorways before reaching a set of double doors at the end of a hallway. The doors slide open at a wave of Merrix's hand to reveal an empty shaft; it looks like it goes down a few stories, but the shaft is dark and the bottom is out of view. "Feather fall chute," the Baron offers by way of explanation. "It's completely safe, just step in and this will take you to the meeting hall. Escorts first," he says, ushering his still-fascinated companions into the shaft and motioning for Ghadrin and Dasmina to do the same. When Tarya and Korras pass him, he taps them on the shoulder with one hand, his other hand buried in one of his many pockets; as each steps into the shaft, they blink and look around as if waking up from a dream, but Xavox cannot see any further reaction as the shaft floats them out of sight.

Casually, the baron fetches a monocle from his breast pocket, places it over his eye, and glances around the room. His gaze pauses when it passes over the twins, but he doesn't comment on it aside from a mild "All escorts first, please," as he returns the monocle to its pocket. Ravek and Taelendril apparently interpret this as their cue to proceed, and they file into the shaft, followed by Tomax and Xamot, who know full well who he was talking to.

Finally, Merrix and Xavox are left alone. The baron makes an "after you" gesture and steps out of Xavox's way, giving the king an enigmatic smile as he does so. A soft "Knowledge is power" is the only explanation he offers for his behavior as he follows the Seren into the shaft.

[TekHed]

Taelendril moves slightly closer to Xavox and whispers in his native tongue, <I did not see you cast a spell, but whatever magic you used on Baron d'Cannith's associates seems to have caught his attention. I would advise against repeating that during the meeting.>

Xavox turned his head so his dragon-eye could gaze at Taelendril, answering her in the Seren tongue. "It is not merely dragon's blood, but dragon's soul that grants me gifts. The presence of mighty Siberys radiates through me and is renewed with the dawn through my daily devotions. It is no spell. In this way, do I determine the strength of my friends...and my enemies."

"All escorts first, please,"

"Knowledge is power"

The twins were not surprised, for they and their brother had counted on such precautionary measures to be taken.

Xavox returned the Baron's smile with draconic guile. "A common misconception. I came of age in The Vast before studying in the City of Knowledge, so I can tell you...Power is power, and knowledge is but idle musing without it."

Xavox stepped into the shaft, allowing it's magic to buoy him downward.

Spoiler

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A couple notes:

After the enthralling voice effect ends, there is a rider side effec that improves their attitude towards Xavox by one step.

Xavox has Darkvision 60 feet to see down the shaft, as well as low light vision.

He also has 100' telepathy, and mindsight, so please let me know of other minds in the area, that may or may not be visible. Of course, he won't let on that he has this ability unless it is advantages to him or necessary somehow.

Switching auras back to Senses (so his presence will dim just a tiny smidgen). Making a Spot check as a matter of course:

(1d20+14)[15] Hmm...he appears to be distracted...

and a Sense Motive on the Baron: (1d20+17)[29] ...by studying the Baron.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

As Xavox and Merrix float down the shaft, the Seren can see several other exits lit by magical torches and glowing crystals, each leading to twisting and branching hallways. His destination, though, is all the way at the bottom. He and the baron fall for a while, still unable to see anything--well, anything interesting; the walls are clearly visible, but blank and bare.

Xavox's comment causes Merrix to send a contemplative glance his way as they begin falling. "'Knowledge is but idle musing'...that would be Valboresk, yes? The ancient blue philosopher? I must say, my usual associates aren't in the habit of quoting Argon scholars, and they certainly don't direct those quotes at me. And, come to think of it," the baron comments mildly, "I don't recall the last time someone suggested to this brilliant artificer and genius inventor, who controls one-third of the entire magic item economy in Khorvaire and who personally invented quite a few of those items, that all of his beloved theoretical knowledge was useless without power to back it up." There is a pause, then Merrix smiles the first real smile Xavox has seen. "Refreshingly straightforward. Good to see the dragon has some fangs."

The smile fades quickly--the baron's face is that of a man who is not at all used to smiling--and he spends another moment in contemplation. "I assume, then, that you've also read his Reflections on the Southern Constellations? 'The Marked Houses have turned their wealth of knowledge to a mere knowledge of wealth; they concern themselves with the what and the how, but not the why or the when.' This is, sadly, all too true. It is a real shame that you are not a marked heir yourself; you could breathe some badly-needed new life into the Houses." Merrix chuckles under his breath. "If only you were Cannith, you could take the reins and leave me to my laboratory."

The pair's downward motion begins to slow as they approach the bottom of the shaft. The baron's expression and manner return to their former polite aloofness, and two pairs of boots touch lightly down on an abstract tile mosaic. Before Xavox stands Merrix's associates, who each give him a polite smile, and Taelendril; Ravek has already walked out into the main room to join the Lyrandar delegation--and what a marvelous room it is! The word "room" barely does this magnificent hall justice. It must be four hundred paces on a side, at the very least, with intricately-woven hangings and banners six or seven feet wide decorating the walls and several chandeliers bathing the space in near-daylight. Each of the Houses and Five Nations has a banner here, under which the respective delegations have gathered around small tables. One large table in the center of the room remains empty thus far, as the various factions representatives are still in meet-and-greet mode. Around the periphery stand a few dozen servants in neutral uniforms, as well as a handful of reporters from the various newspapers, silently watching the proceedings; none of the reporters are taking notes or recording anything, as their articles will have to go through heavy editing and approval before they see print.

When Xavox and his party appear, the background murmur of conversation quiets and all faces turn in their direction. "Lords and Ladies, Barons and associates, it is my supreme privilege to present to you Xavox'oryx the Unifier, King of the Seren, as well as his advisors Ghadrin, Dragonspeaker for the Seren, and Dasmina, Captain of the Guard. I am sure you are all anxious to meet them in person, and you will have a chance to do so. Refreshments will be served now, and everyone will have this opportunity to mingle and converse with each other before the meeting begins in one and a half glasses," Taelendril says, casually ignoring the fact that everyone has been conniving and plotting chatting politely for a while already. There is light applause from those gathered, and Taelendril takes Xavox, Ghadrin, and Dasmina aside as the Cannith delegation heads over to their assigned table and the servants start serving drinks. Xavox notes that Merrix is making some significant glances around the room as he leaves; their earlier idle conversation was apparently anything but.

The ambassador gives the three a quick summary of who's who in the hall to the best of her ability. She doesn't know everyone's occupation or dragonmark status offhand, but she is definitely well-connected and leaves Xavox in an excellent position for chitchat and machinations, aside from those few omissions. She reminds Xavox not to make a beeline to any one party, to avoid showing favoritism--starting with a half-hour of mingling and greetings before angling for the people he actually wants to talk to would be prudent--and accompanies him as he moves out into the hall.

[TekHed]

*Many thanks for your personal stake in my safe arrive m'lady. Your interest has been noted. I look forward to our conversation...and anything you deem private, you may reply to me in this way.* the first-born matriarch of House Lyrander heard within her mind. The sonorous voice was clearly that of the Seren king.

Looking over to him, she found him otherwise quite engaged in friendly conversation with the King of Breland.

"...and as I was just telling Merrix, Your Majesty, Sharn is truly the wonder of Khorvaire. I was hoping you might be so kind as to introduce me to the Lord Mayor? As not only a warrior, but a scholar, I really must pay a visit to the University...I've heard such wonderful and scandalous stories...do they do it justice?"

Proving himself to be an exceptionally talented socialite, Xavox mingled with the best of them, enrapturing all even without the direct of influence of his draconic heritage. Many were the compliments at his dragonscale garments, and many were the questions regarding his time in Argonessen. Many were perhaps surprised at the sheer charisma and eloquence of the king...not at all what they would have expected from the king of Barbarians.

Xavox skirted the room, first paying each monarch respect before mingling with the House leaders who held court in that region. All the while, he payed close attention to the weaving subtexts, attempting to discern who he might count on as ally...and who he might he keep close as potential enemies...

Spoiler

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So, it was hard to nail down exactly how to make the best use of this scene but I think I put a decent spin on it. Xavox uses his telepathy with Esravash, but does it in a way that no one else would be any wiser. Feel free to have her respond to him telepathically if you like. He will otherwise keep this ability to himself.

Likewise, I'll let you fill in the blanks in your next post with any wheelings and dealings or notable exchanges that occur with the other houses...I think it would be a bit much to go through every interaction with everyone present, but surely you have some notable exchanges in mind?

Lastly, let's do a sense motive roll here to see how Xavox fares in ferreting out people's intentions. Let's just use one roll counting the whole scene as one encounter, and I'll add +6 to my sense motive roll, considering that Taelendril, Ghadrin, and Dasmina to all be using "aid another" for him...

Sense Motive: (1d20+23)[34]

[PairO'Dice Lost]

King Boranel ir'Wynarn laughs heartily at Xavox's mention of Merrix and Sharn. The tall, broad-shouldered king seems perfectly at ease in his ceremonial armor, and not at all averse to chatting and laughing with their honored guest where some of the others in the room would prefer to be more circumspect in their wheelings and dealings. He stands with the poise of a man who has never been touched by even the implication of a scandal, and with the confidence of a ruler who can boast of Khorvaire's highest approval rating of a sitting ruler since King Daroon ir'Wynarn of Galifar--not that he's the type to actually boast about it, of course.

"For someone who is a stranger to our shores, Your Majesty, you've certainly gotten a good handle on the good Baron d'Cannith. Complimenting 'his' city is one of the few things that will melt that adamantine heart of his, isn't that right, Baron?" A few paces away, Merrix turns from his own conversation, nods politely, and smiles at the remark in a way that suggests that this ribbing is an old running joke between them that he'd rather not see aired in public. Calculating eyes throughout the room note the king's actions and the baron's reactions and furtively seek out other clues to the conversation's contents--for none of them can hear the conversation, as zones of silence have been erected every few paces to allow machinations to proceed unheard within them, and the Cannith delegation is conveniently inside the same bubble as the Seren and Brelish delegations. The reporters on the periphery, all of whom are trained lip-readers quite used to these precautions, scribble notes furiously until an amused Merrix discreetly taps one of his rings and causes an illusory haze to descend over the mouths of all speakers in the bubble. The Chronicle reporter gives him a frustrated glare and they all turn to spy on other conversations; the baron merely rolls his eyes and motions for the king to continue.

Nodding thanks to Merrix, Boranel does so. "As for Morgrave scandals, I certainly couldn't say. I never had the pleasure of attending our distinguished university myself, and none of my children who attended saw fit to share any stories with their dear old father." The king motions to Lady ir'Morgrave, standing very quietly and attentively behind the King's Arcanist. "Lady Ada, you wouldn't mind showing our guest to the University and introducing him to the Lord Mayor once today's events are concluded?" "Not at all, Your Majesty; I have a student defending for her Ar.D. this evening, so I'd already planned to pay the Lord Mayor a visit." "Excellent. You should ask about scandals again once you're out of earshot of the Royal Ears, Your Majesty," Boranel says with a chuckle. "Lady Ada is one of my most capable advisors, and if anyone would know about the goings-on inside the University, it would be Ada." The professor blinks owlishly and, with a perfectly straight face, says, "I am sure I have no idea what His Majesty is talking about."

------------------------------------

The Thrane delegation is not nearly as jovial as the Breland delegation; in the Church of the Silver Flame hierarchy, rank and sense of humor tend to be inversely proportional, and two of its highest members are standing before the Seren king. Xavox manages to have a lovely conversation with Queen Diani despite the oblique references on the High Cardinal's part to heathens and backwards barbarians that are sadly too vague for Xavox to call him out on. It seems the Flamites are predisposed to dislike the Seren, but the queen seems honored by Xavox's attention, and even the dour Brother Alastair cannot help but swell with pride when Xavox praises the Flame's efforts to safeguard Khorvaire.

The meeting with the Thranish delegates is a success to all appearances, but over the queen's shoulder the young Kaius IV shoots Xavox an irritated glance or two, still too young and unpracticed to control his expressions as well as his fellow diplomats. Thrane and Karrnath aren't exactly on the best of terms, what with sharing a border and that whole "undead are unholy abominations that must be destroyed" hang-up Flamites tend to have, and the prince isn't being at all subtle in showing his distaste at Xavox talking with Karrnath's rival first. Left alone by his tenders, the young Karrnathi scion goes through three or four glasses of wine and eight or nine tiny sandwiches in the space of a few minutes as he attempts (and fails) to keep a close eye on the Seren without being too blatant about it. Ghadrin shakes his head in disapproval as the Seren bid the Thranish goodbye, noting under his breath that King Kaius III could not have chosen a more insulting representative if he had had months to prepare.

------------------------------------

Five minutes later, Xavox finds himself sipping from a glass of a fruity red '34 vintage Noblis handed to him by the Matriarch of Lyrandar. "I hope you enjoyed your voyage here, Your Majesty, and that my grandson behaved himself. He has spoken quite highly of you--an entire three sentences on the topic, which would be a lengthy speech from any of my other relatives," she says out loud. Ravek, standing to her left impassively as always, merely nods in acknowledgement. Simultaneously, in his head, Xavox hears *An impressive and rare talent, Your Majesty--not the least of your talents, if what I have heard is true. I knew allying with the Seren was the right decision.* The spoken/projected double conversation continues as the trio (Lord Calynden "the Kraken" d'Lyrandar is off swapping war stories with Generals Gruden and Caldrus of the Karrn delegation) meander through various bubbles of silence around the periphery, deliberately coming within hearing range of some other delegations.

"...not at the moment, unfortunately; I'm afraid the Dawn will be one of the larger passenger models available for some time..."
*...three luxury models will be coming off the Zil drydocks within the month, if you are looking for a personal transport vessel...*

"...believe me, Your Majesty, House Lyrandar is fully sympathetic to your cause. We merely do not wish to proceed hastily into any sort of business arrangement..."
*...and once the second docking tower is completed, that would allow for our larger cargo airships to make the voyage as well...*

"...though of course I do not handle the day-to-day affairs; you would have to ask one of our accountants about that..."
*...but lowering that rate to 4.7% would allow you to undercut similar shipments from the Mror Holds by a good amount...*

"...this has certainly been an interesting conversation, and we will have to correspond at some later date..."
*...and if you ever wish to pay Stormhome a visit, say the word and our arcanists could make the weather feel like home for you on just a day's notice...*

While outwardly Esravash is temporizing, trying not to show too much favor to this outsider, in her mental conversation with Xavox she makes it quite clear that this is Lyrandar's golden opportunity to deal a devastating economic blow to Orien, their major rival, and the youngest Lyrandar Firstborn in the House's history is not afraid to take it. Her plans for new airship models, new shipping routes, and a way to break the Orien near-monopoly on the precious metal trade thanks to their lightning rail lines into the Mror Holds are quite ambitious and would enrich the coffers of Lyrandar and Seren alike. When the trio returns to their original position, the matriarch bids Xavox a polite farewell and sends him a sly mental suggestion to see what Orien can offer him, if anything.

------------------------------------

"Your Majesty, Seneschal Taen Shol, what a pleasure." "Your Majesty, Seneschal Ellasa Riann, such a pleasure." "Welcome to Sharn." "Welcome to Breland." As soon as Xavox finds himself in the open after his conversation with the Medani, Orien, and Tharashk delegations, the Phiarlan and Thuranni seneschals approach him at the same time from opposite directions, their practiced introductions and welcoming smiles echoing each other to an eerie degree. The Phiarlan representative reaches Xavox a second or two ahead of his opposite number and extends a hand to the Seren king; the Thuranni representative recovers flawlessly, turning her aborted handshake into a perfunctory curtsy as she passes the two of them on her way to speak to the Ghallanda representative, as she completely intended to do all along.

"So good to finally meet you, Majesty," says Taen Shol with a rapidly-quashed smirk at his counterpart's failure. "I have a few trifling matters of diplomacy I have been asked to discuss with you, but first, you simply must have your talented...Dragonspeaker, yes? teach me a few verses of one of your traditional tribal songs. We in House Phiarlan have heard so much about the simply marvelous songs and dances your people perform, and I would love to see how they compare to our own routines." Ghadrin looks to Xavox for confirmation, then proceeds to hum a few bars, block out a few dance steps, and otherwise go along with Taen Shol's cultured-bard-being-condescending-to-a-yokel routine.

All the while, the seneschal manages to communicate to Xavox with well-time eyebrow raises, hand waves, head shakes, and other subtle nonverbal cues that a later meeting at a certain time and place to discuss the circumspect gathering and redistribution of information could prove mutually beneficial; the coded messages of Phiarlan's Shadow Demesne are close enough to the Seren battle code that the seneschal was able to signal his intentions upon approaching and avoid angering the Seren with his apparent arrogance, all without informing even his Thuranni rivals of his true intentions. With his final farewell handshake, Taen Shol slips a bit of parchment into Xavox's hand for later perusal.

------------------------------------

While his king addresses the Deneith delegation, Ghadrin slips away to speak with the Vadalis delegation, both to clear up a few questions about them that Xavox had and to fill in Taelendril's lack of information on them. The nearest Vadalis member is the tall, silver-haired, haughty Selene. He initially meets a cold, formal reception, and makes very little headway against their polite nothings as his liege moves on to the Aundairan delegation.

He finally breaks through to them when he catches a glimpse of a sprig of holly on a necklace around Donovan's neck. He pulls the two unmarked Vadalis members aside and, taking a chance, quietly utters a few choice words in Druidic. Specifically, the Gatekeeper Oath. The two Vadalis' glacial standoffishness doesn't so much thaw as disintegrate, and when Xavox comes over to retrieve his Dragonspeaker he enters the bubble of silence and finds himself caught in the crossfire of a spirited debate on the finer points of Gatekeeper philosophy. Once the Seren are far enough away to not be overheard, Ghadrin informs Xavox that both Selene and Donovan are Gatekeeper druids like himself, both would rather that that information not be spread around, both disagreed with him on practically every point of doctrine they discussed, and both want to have lunch with him sometime to continue their debate over the ultimate effects of the Archdruid Conclave of 827. Vadalis overall might be fairly lukewarm regarding a Seren alliance, but he's fairly sure they'll put in a good word with the patriarch.

------------------------------------

Some scions of Ghallanda and Kundarak are having a nice chat over a tankard of Ghallanda's finest ale when the Seren stop by. This soon turns into a nice chat over two tankards, then three tankards, then...well, Ghallanda's reputation is definitely well-deserved. While Ghadrin and Lynnette d'Ghallanda get into a small side discussion regarding the breeding and care of warhorses, Xavox and Lord Torvan Doldarun get down to brass tacks. The Chief Accountant is reluctant to discuss economic theory over ale--one should never drink and derive, after all--but as soon as Xavox mentions his familiarity with Khaldun curves, the dwarf dives deep into the rabbit hole of exchange rate speculation between modern Sarlonan and ancient Xen'drik currencies, optimal mithral alloy profit margins, the effects of occasional cross-planar trade on Khorvarian commodity prices, and more, and he never really comes up for air. Ghallanda's Chief Accountant soon jumps into the discussion, enthusiastic despite being a bit out of her depth, leaving Ghadrin to chitchat with Baron Yoren.

Very shortly, Lynnette bows out of the conversation and just listens as Xavox and Torvan descend further into discussion of ever-more-obscure economic minutiae. Ten minutes later, a slightly inebriated and very enthusiastic Lord Doldarun vigorously shakes Xavox's hand and totters off to fill Baron Morrikan d'Kundarak in on their conversation. The faces of Ghadrin and the other two Ghallanda representatives all bear the same politely uncomprehending expressions, so glazed-over that they could have been pulled straight out of a kiln. "And that," Lady Tallfeathers remarks faintly as Lynnette rejoins them, "is why I am the politician and she is the accountant."

------------------------------------

By the time the meeting proper is about to begin, news of Xavox's various conversations have spread around to all the delegations (suitably edited, of course), and the general feeling in the room is sympathetic; the meeting ends up starting half a glass later than intended as the last few delegations clamor to speak with Xavox, not wanting to miss out on their chance to make a good impression and jockey for advantage. The Aundairan and Cyran delegations don't look quite so worried now that they see that Xavox was paying Thrane and Breland the same attention as everyone else, the human Houses seem to have accepted the Seren as valued relatives if not necessarily allies, and the reporters look to be finishing up their articles.

Over the course of ten minutes or so the refreshments are removed and the room is reconfigured to accommodate everyone at the central meeting table. All nonessential personnel are ushered out of the room so the diplomats can get down to business. Xavox is given the seat of honor, as much as one can have a seat of honor at a perfectly-round table built to the specifications of easily-slighted nobles; Ghadrin sits to his right and the ever-attentive Dasmina sets to his left. The twins, thus-far either undiscovered or at least un-remarked upon, take up mirrored standing positions at either shoulder.

The room quiets; the meeting is ready to begin. Taelendril goes through the necessary formalities of reading off everyone's many titles, explaining their area of influence, and so forth; when she concludes, she motions to Xavox, asking him to say a few words to open and set the tone of the meeting.

[TekHed]

The Seren Lord stood before the round table, exuding radiance.

He looked over the table at the many faces and gazes turned towards him, allowing the moment to breathe through his silence.

After the perfect interval he opened his mouth, and words like honey filtered through the air.

"Esteemed leaders of Khorvaire. It is my great honor on this day to stand before you on behalf of my people. For many an age have the Seren stood watch upon the sacred land of Argonessen, content to remain within our borders. Today, a new age begins. I, Xavox, Herald of Siberys, have wrought our many tribes into a unified nation. The world is changing at an ever increasing pace. It is an era of discovery, and re-discovery. New technologies abound. Forgotten dangers lurk. With the rise of the 'marked, even the mighty dragons have deigned to turn their attention upon us. The winds of this world are changing, and if we are to weather the storms of progress, we must do so together."

With his words of introduction complete, the Seren king takes his seat once more, curious about what is to come...

[PairO'Dice Lost]

With the formalities out of the way, the most powerful men and women in Khorvaire turn to the business of bickering with their fellows over minutiae and extracting every last possible copper's worth of value out of their relationship with the Seren. The façades of politeness are dropped by those who held them before as the negotiations grow more heated. The Sivis delegation begins taking the minutes of the meeting and King Boranel smoothly guides the discussion, as is apparently standard operating procedure for meeting such as this one. The conversation moves from tariffs to international travel to embassies to public relations, criss-crosses back to travel, feints to the left, throws a one-two punch of religious freedom and national identity, uppercuts with immigration rights, and ends up on research sharing. And all that before anyone has finished their first glass of wine.

------------------------------------

"...and my advisors have confirmed that the Seren religious sects, while somewhat...unorthodox...given their separation, are perfectly compatible with the mainstream churches," says the Vadalis patriarch to Cardinal Crozen with a roll of his eyes. "I don't see why you would insist on separate temples near the embassies." The Cardinel sneers in return and replies, "Of course you would say that. We of the Silver Flame do not want any Seren priests, Flamite or otherwise, mixing with the rest of the clergy until we can be assured there will be no doctrinal differences that could raise religious tensions. I want some Khorvarian priests to study their catechisms and tutor their priests before they are accepted into the normal hierarchies."

"You might as well insist that they learn our languages and celebrate our holidays while you're at it," opines Lady ir'Morgrave. "This is to be an alliance, not an assimilation." "Maybe they should learn a lot more about our culture before they come here. Their king is educated, erudite, and cultured," the cardinal adds hastily at a sharp, disapproving glance from Queen Diani to stave off accusations of prejudice against heathens, "but we have no guarantees about his people."

------------------------------------

"...and you just want to start building outposts and embassies on the island? Just like that? I think not." The Lyrandar Matriarch is glaring across the table at the Orien delegation. "If you think we are going to roll over and give you a monopoly on transportation to and from the continent, you are sadly mistaken. Besides," she continues with a gesture in Xavox's direction, "it is King Xavox'oryx who will determine who is allowed to build what, where. Don't get your hopes up for a trans-oceanic lightning rail just yet."

------------------------------------

"Have you any idea what sort of problems those new materials would have on the market?" asks Seneschal d'Thuranni. "Their exotic nature would drive up demand regardless of their quality--not that I doubt their quality, of course, King Xavox'oryx--so I must insist that a 3% tariff be levied on all goods and a two-week delay be placed on trade of new clothing and fabrics until they can be properly reviewed." "Cousin dearest," retorts Seneschal d'Phiarlan in a tone that is anything but familial, "need I remind you that the Demesne of Shape bears a similar interest in new fashion and fabrics, and we do not believe a tariff is necessary. Kundarak will support me, I'm sure, when I say that the influx of new goods will barely cause a blip in the durable goods pricing trends."

The Phiarlan gives the Thuranni a saccharine smile. "Then again, I realize it would have a disproportionate impact on your own products, given your lack of high-volume capabilities, but this is no time for selfish bargaining. We are here for the betterment of all Khorvaire." The latter grumbles at a point well-scored and retracts the suggestion.

------------------------------------

Baron d'Cannith has been diligently taking notes through the meeting, but as he shifts slightly in his seat, Xavox gets a glimpse of Merrix's papers out of the corner of his eye. The Baron's notebook doesn't contain meeting minutes; instead, it bears some doodled schematics involving what look to be a ballista, a bunch of wands (or maybe rods), a stained-glass window, two flags, and some sort of advanced mathematics. When he notices Merrix's attention, he scribbles something in Draconic and tilts it so Xavox can see: <After all this, the dessert had better be worth it.>

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"Certainly, some cross-training would be beneficial. The Seren would definitely have some tricks to show our troops when it comes to jungle combat, but the Knights Phantom can give 'em a run for their money in the open, I'm sure," says Lord Darro with a hearty chuckle. "Some dueling work and adventuring would keep our armies in practice in peacetime while giving them an outlet for their competitive streaks." Prince Kaius IV fidgets and looks about to say something, but Darro preemptively waves the objection away. "Yes, yes, your Highness," he sighs, voice dripping with sarcasm, "we can arrange for cross-training with Karrn forces as well, wouldn't want you to miss the opportunity to get your hands on new playthings."

[TekHed]

"Please, new friends. Let us remember that we are all here for mutual gain." Xavox placated.

"I come to you not as a pauper, begging for a handout, but as a man of means and a leader of no small resource, come to offer new opportunities to the people of Khorvaire. Likewise I am here to provide for the welfare and advancement of my own people. It is my distant hope that one day perhaps, all of our nations will come together to realize that we have but one destiny, and that our notions of differences will be seen by our descendants as no more than regional or cultural distinctiveness, worthy of pride but not of war."

He paused, letting the weight of his words truly land upon the hearts and minds of those present, noting the subtle shifts in body posture or facial tension. For some, the idea of setting down the old ingrained imperialism would be tantamount to heresy, but in the end they too would realize that their well-being was inextricably linked with the greater organism of civilization.

"The first order of business is to formalize our diplomatic relations. I propose to create a full-fledged Seren Embassy here on the continent." he looked towards King Boranel. "Ideally hosted right here in Sharn, for reasons I'll get to shortly."

"In return of course, land will be set aside on Seren for your embassies as well. As for why Sharn...I would see my people brought into the modern age. I would like to begin putting our young people through formal education at Morgrave. While I understand this might put an undue strain on class size and enrollment, I would welcome a fully staffed satellite branch located on our island. As part of this joint venture, I intend to use my greater than usual position of respect among the dragons to allow for limited expeditions into select portions of Argonessan, including the great city and ancient center of learning, Io'lokar. Of course we will need to charge a considerable toll for such dealings, but I'm sure you will find, Lady ir'Morgrave, the benefits to be well worth the expense."

"In addition, I feel that aside from relations with the nations of Khorvaire, and the furthering of our mutual knowledge through academic pursuits, a practical more worldly education is also essential. To that aim, I propose for select worthy Seren to serve apprenticeships within the great Dragonmarked Houses, for they hold the keys to the Prophecy."

"Next I would like to present lucrative contracts for the physical development of the islands. To Cannith, I offer contracts for infrastructure along the coastal settlements, to Jorasco, for Seren-wide medical services, and to Ghallanda, an entire city dedicated to the hospitality of the many tourists, and academics who will no doubt be flocking to our shores. Regarding trade, by virtue of the vast ocean, I must turn towards Lyrander to handle the bulk of our transportation." The Herald gave a sympathetic look to the Orien delegation. "While I understand this is not likely what you would have preferred, it would take longer than I would like to make other arrangements. As a small consolation however, I would offer Orien the opportunity to provide a light-rail system circumnavigating the main island to facilitate the movement of people and freight to and from the main ports."

He paused once more, preparing for the inevitable flood and flurry of replies, but skillfully interjected one more proposal before the momentum of the conversation fully tilted towards a response.

"One more thing my friends, that may seem of minor consequence for many of you. I find myself fascinated by the breakthroughs of Cannith in the creation of the so-called Warforged. However, I understand that many have found themselves rather listless and devoid of purpose or homeland since the ceasing of hostilities in the Last War. To that end, I would like to make an open offer to any and all interested warforged, to find both acceptance and employment in the development of Seren. I believe that as a species, they are not only the youngest of our diverse races, but one teeming with a vast untapped potential, far exceeding their martial origins."

And with his initial round of proposals complete, Xavox'oryx relinquished the floor to King Boranel, who was prepared to mediate the coming storm of reactions...

[PairO'Dice Lost]

The delegates here are far too well-versed in diplomacy to betray too much emotion involuntarily, so while the Cannith, Ghallanda, Jorasco, and especially Orien delegations merely raise eyebrows in speculation at Xavox's words, they might as well be jumping for joy at the incredibly lucrative contracts just offered to them. They quickly agree, and the Jorasco and Ghallanda delegates turn to hushed whispers among themselves; the Orien delegates sit back, shoot a smirk at the Lyrandars, and attentively listen to the rest of Xavox's words.

Many of the delegates don't seem to realize the value of Io'lokar, but the rest do. At Xavox's mention of the expeditions, Councilor Baberil almost chokes on his wine, all four Thuranni and Phiarlan representatives openly wear expressions resembling Flamite children who have just heard that Baker's Night has come early this year, and Lady ir'Morgrave drops her fork onto her plate with a clatter. "Ah, yes, Your Majesty," the latter says faintly. "For that pleasure, I believe we may be able to waive a large portion of tuition for your Morgrave attendees."

"Now hold on one minute," objects the Aundairan Foreign Minister. "That's a bit premature, don't you think, your Majesty? The apprenticeships, I mean, the university education is an excellent idea. I'm not at all saying that your Seren are not worthy of a space in the various Houses' programs, but there are plenty of talented Aundairans--yes, and Karrnathi and Thranish and other nationals--" he adds before anyone can object "who compete for space in them every year. Brelish students already enjoy an advantage in admissions to due to preferential access to Sharn internships and other early connections--don't deny it, Cannith, you know it's true--and letting Seren jump to the head of the line because they are small and remote would be unfair to my people and those of the other nations."

A dissenting voice comes from, of all people, High Cardinal Crozen. "But surely, Adal," Crozen replies, using the Warlord's first name in a way that obviously annoys him, "you see the value of the opportunity presented. There are many topics in which the Houses could tutor the Seren...such as, for instance, Comparative Religions...that would greatly benefit society--and the Seren--if our, ahem, new friends and allies were to take advantage of them. And your dislike of preferential treatment for the Seren is ridiculous. Cyrans already benefit from affirmative action programs, and Aundairan arcanists enjoy preferential treatment when joining Medani, Kundarak, and Cannith--among others--thanks to Arcane Congress experience." "Just as Thranish students make up the majority of the Ghallanda, Tharashk, and Jorasco internships thanks to glowing recommendations from the Enduring Flame Seminary." "I was not finished, Warlord!"

The debate rages for a few minutes, dividing the delegations almost evenly along expected lines. Each of the Five Nations feels that its own connections with the Houses are stronger than those of the Seren, and all the Houses have their own reasons for supporting or opposing teaching the Seren their trades. The Sivis representatives stay out of the debate until the end, however, leaving them as the tie vote (the Cyran delegation abstains, given their lack of influence among the Houses). While the others bicker, the Sivis trio talk quietly among themselves and sketch out diagrams on their papers, and when the talk quiets they have a plan to present. "I think, perhaps, that the focus on who attends which House and why is clouding the overall point, distinguished colleagues," opines Viceroy Lyrriman. "In general, the Seren desire to learn from the Houses, yes, but why must they learn in House enclaves, occupying existing internships slots, when new facilities and new openings can be created to bring many of the Houses' brightest minds together to benefit our new friends?"

He outlines a plan of exchange students, shared research, national grants, and various other factors to educate the Seren while satisfying every House and Nation. "And of course," he concludes, "this would require the opening of more than one institute on Seren to defray costs and balance needs and time. I think a Korranberg Library remote campus would be an excellent addition to the Morgrave campus; the one provides specialized training, the other provides general education, and constructing both would allow for each to perform better than they would alone." The Five Nations representatives grudgingly admit that this would avoid favoring any one of them, and with that the vote swings to approve the Seren educational program given those changes.

That topic resolved, the talk turns to the warforged. Again, some delegates cry "affirmative action!" and "preferential treatment!" and similar, while some note that providing an out-of-sight-out-of-mind home for warforged could be a good thing. Eventually, some obliquely suggest that there are other new races suffering from prejudice, and that perhaps everyone would benefit if they enjoyed the same, ahem, hospitality among the Seren. The motion passes, and the notion is formally presented for Xavox's approval.

At this point Chief Engineer Karl interjects a few questions regarding the so-called "light rail" system to be constructed; while Lady Moreta d'Orien was debating apprenticeships, he was ignoring the conversation to sketch up some schematics. One of the questions concerns security, and when the point is raised that lightning rail banditry will be practically nonexistent, Lord Darro perks up. "That's an interesting point," he says, "not for the lightning rail, but for another instance of large-scale crime. I refer, of course, to piracy." Grumbling rises from the Lyrandar, Kundarak, and Karrnath delegations--piracy is a thorn in the side of their operations that they'd really rather get rid of. "Seren warriors are the best of the best when it comes to island combat, much better than our own, or so I've heard," he says self-deprecatingly. "We were speaking earlier about cross-training with jungle and field tactics with all of our armed forces, but why not naval and island combat? I think a squadron or two of Seren added to the pirate-hunting efforts in the Principalities would help us squash the major bands that much faster."

The table agrees without too much debate, which emboldens the Vadalis delegation. Their Patriarch adds, "An excellent idea, Lord Darro. As long as the Seren are contributing to non-military combat and exploration efforts, we wouldn't mind some assistance as well. As you know, our House sponsors many expeditions to capture and tame new and exotic beasts, and Q'Barra and the Shadow Marches are two areas where we can't always find and procure the creatures we'd wish. The locals, you see, aren't always happy to serve as guides or generally assist us, resenting our intrusion or our capture of valued creatures, for whatever reason. Tharashk trackers are invaluable, of course, but they are not always available, and even they cannot find some of the specimens we seek." The druids among the Vadalis wear absolute poker faces at his statements. "If some more independent guides were available, who have experience traveling coasts and jungles and finding strange beasts...." This debate is also quite short, and the motion is presented in short order.

Finally, as the meeting reaches a close, gazes begin to shift towards the Cyran delegate. Prince Oargev has commented on few issues so far, and everyone knows what no one wanted to say: the Cyrans are a single-issue people, and that issue is retaking Cyre. Oargev's people appreciated Boranel's welcoming them into Breland and giving them land to build New Cyre, but it wasn't quite the same as home, and since then they've been looking for new places to settle until the Mournland could be cleansed, if ever. And, the other delegates assumed, what better place than a sparsely-settled island that was soon to be built up with all the modern amenities? However, the Prince-in-Exile has another idea entirely. Haltingly, Oargev explains how Seren does sound like a paradise compared to the Mournland, but he really would rather his people stay close to Cyre, and his people agree with him, and exploring the Mournland is their highest priority to discover a cure or at least a way for people to live there, and would the Seren like to...? Surprised murmurs circle the table, but no debate ensues; this is between Oargev and Xavox alone.

[TekHed]

Xavox listened patiently to the various squabbling cross-conversations, all the while seeming quite amused. Shakkar and the Chamber would be quite pleased.

"A second university? The competition will be good for both of you, I believe." he added.

"Lord Darro, your request for aid is well taken. I believe I could spare a few squadrons to aid your efforts...after all, the Seren now have a major stake in Kundarak investments, and I would be most disappointed were anything to disrupt them."

"Likewise, Patriarch Dalin, I'm certain that my people will relish hunting in exotic new woods, so long have we remained secluded on our islands. Indeed, both proposals I feel will help soften the blow when I tell them they'l be going to school." He smiled at his own joke, a calculation designed to reinforce their notion of the Seren as backwards, and needing a hand up from Khorvaire. Feed their egos; play on their superiority. That touch of underestimation was working nicely in his favor.

Next he turned to Boranel

"With regards to hosting more settlers on Seren, that is asking a lot with all of the changes, but I believe we can set aside some land on of our western islands for shifter and changeling communities. However, just as you are concerned with an influx of our population into your lands, it is best not to blow the doors wide open; due to our limited landmass, I will need to place limits on the number of families allowed to settle, and place a strict limit on the overall population. The warforged won't have this restriction of course, because they don't breed."

Finally, all eyes were locked on Xavox as he considered Cyre's request.

Xavox was silent for a long time, weighing the words of the Prince-in-Exile.

"Prince Oargev, I have such a deep sympathy for your people. Were the same to happen to my islands, I know I would be heart broken. So, it is with the deepest of sympathy that I must decline. Between educating my people, building our infrastructure, and sending troops far and wide, I'm afraid our resources are already stretched thin."

He paused, letting the disappointment sink in strategically before continuing.

"However, I would like to find a way to help Cyre, indirectly. Expeditions into the Mournland are extremely costly with a very low return on investment. However, it would benefit not only the displaced Cyran people to have their nation back, but the rest of Khorvaire as well. What I can offer you is to bring your problem to my colleagues in Io'lokar. The city holds some of the finest minds in the world, and perhaps having some fresh eyes on the problem might lead to new avenues of inquiry that could push past the apparent roadblock the Khorvairian university has encountered in their research."

There, just a hint of arrogance directed towards the Universities. Reminding them of where he had been educated would foster intellectual competition, which was good for progress....and now to drive home the wedge...

"In fact I understand that interest has been low given the seemingly insurmountable problems facing researchers, so I would like to address the issue around return on investment... To spur new development and interest in your problem, I am offering a purse of one billion gold to the research team that successfully finds a way to permanently part the mists of mourning, and return Cyre's homeland to it's people."