Perwyn (i)Mature

Two and a half centuries ago Louen, former Emperor of Vharktüm, fled from the High Council of the Old Ones when the pact was broken and settled in the ancient land of his people.
The new Kingdom of Louena had finally begun to settle down after the remnants of Louen's people were curbed into one nation, the Barbarrans were defeated and forced to flee into the Crown of Ice, the Eruvian conclave was absolved and entered the realm and trade routes were finally established with Elegeia, Tundrahk and

“My Liege, the dead must have their rest!” Lord Aedrin Ridling stepped out from the crowd of petitioners and assembled noblemen in the Grand Hall, out from amidst the columns adorned with numerous friezes.
                “And they shall.” Lady Layla said, who had already been standing at the base of the steps that led to the throne. “Once I find mine, I will cease the blockade when my son is returned to me, High Sage, no sooner.”
                Perwyn watched, from the left of where the King sat, with his sword in his hands, the tip on the ground. The throne itself was a wondrous piece of marble, carved from the floor itself, but it made no sound as the King shifted uncomfortably.
                “I find it hard to see why the crown would permit such a decisive and, dare I say, destructive course of action.” Lord Ridling called out, his long, dark, oiled back hair with his neatly trimmed beard was a stark contrast from Lady Layla, who both were of a height, though neither particularly tall.
                Perwyn couldn’t see the King’s face, but he could imagine it wasn’t best pleased from the flush creeping down his neck.
                “The Eruvians ought have considered that when they took the boy.” Your boy, mother. A band of cloth had been wrapped around her tightly tied, greying hair. She cut an intimidating figure despite being older, shorter and more crabbed than most of the room.
                “The dead have done nothing deserving of your ire, surely a simple pass can be warranted—“
                “—oh truly, they did nothing deserving, well then what a fool I have been. By all means, let everybody through.” She retorted, her long fingers whipping towards him.
                The King shifted again, unable to get comfortable it seemed as some of the guards looked at each other.
                “I was merely referring to a search and pass tactic, it’s simple politics.”
                “Fine. So I let the coffins through, then I have merchants asking, then mercenaries, book keepers, bakers, until the North is laughing at a crumbling wall. No the blockade stands firm, do not presume to lecture me on misguided notions of simple politics, you oaf. No ship shall pass the Pendant so long as my demands go unseen, and by Hetharn’s Law on Retaliation, I have done nothing illegal.”
                King Leo Tawniton sat forwards and the two moved to listen.
                “Have no fear, Lady Layla, on good council, I have begun communication with the Eruvians. Once I hear reasonable terms we shall consent to end this debacle.” Some small cheers arose from noblemen until Lady Layla’s voice rang clearly above them all.
                “Then I have every cause for fear, knowing who sits your council.” The scathing remark was met with howls and angry cries as she looked to the High Sage. He’s playing you, he wanted you to sound unreasonable and now the nobles who have stakes about the realm will hate you.
                The King leaned back and whispered to Perwyn. “I knew I should have sent you with young Courts and my nephew. Darn it all, how do I appease this woman.” He cursed softly.

The End

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