The #Broken_Dagger Forum

Outside, not far from the government offices, a man announces decrees for an assembled crowd. Inside the building, however, business seems to be running as usual. Cinnabar Calomel has been gone for a few days, Glenn Burnie with him. The two are on a vacation, a rare thing for two men who work so hard for their adopted homeland. Despite that, things are running smoothly. This is not the first time that the bureaucrats and other assorted staff have had to run things without a governing figure or even without Calomel and Burnie in particular. The pair were in and out of the Remedium on an almost weekly basis, after all.

Things are going so well that it was almost a shame what was happening outside. It was almost a shame that a blonde-haired man had walked in the door just now, dressed in quite functional fineries of black and silver. He held two papers in hand and walked with more than a little confidence. "Cinnabar Calomel." It was all he said at first, as if speaking the words aloud would simply make the Governor of Myrken Wood suddenly appear.

He did not, and the person behind the desk, a young page fairly new to the job, simply looked at him oddly. She frowned and spoke in very plain words. "The governor is currently unavailable. What is ..."

A wave of the man's hand silenced her. "I am Graf Josef Reinstadler and I carry royal edicts from Rasazan. Cinnabar Calomel needs to be available, and he needs to be available now." Oh, Reinstadler did not need to come here in person. It would have been easy enough to send another, even if one of the better choices was currently in the streets reading off those edicts. No, this needed the personal touch only he could provide.

Was there the sort of nervousness in the young lady that came with being new to a job? Yes, but at the same time, it was counterbalanced by the sheer impossibility of the situation. Nothing could be done and that made her response very simple. No thought was necessary "The Governor is away."

"Away?" A look of mild amusement came over the Graf's face. There were other more official titles that he held, both familial and professional. This, however, was what he chose to call himself: the title, however archaic, that meant the most to him. "How utterly unsurprising. I hardly thought this would be easy, though it will be." It would happen. There was no question there, not in his mind. "...and I am sure you are about to tell me that he cannot be reached by conventional methods and that he is not set to return for another month, no?" His words carried an air of annoyance mixed with impatience. Somehow, that suited him.

She hated having to reply to so rude a comment, but at least the answer wasn't as bad as what had been suggested. "A couple of weeks. He will return..."

At least it would not have been so bad if he had not cut her off once again. "One of the edicts must wait for him to return. It will make him look all the more a fool for the delay, but little can be done. It is Calomel's reputation that suffers. The other matter must be dealt with immediately. There can be no delay." A document with a impressive looking seal fell down upon the desk.
The office worker glanced at it with an increasing frown. This was... well, it was bad. The Governor would not like it one bit. He would hate it. "I can't do this. My superior.."

"Your superior?" Josef spoke the words with a good deal of disdain. "By the virtue of who I am and what I carry, I am your superior, girl. ...but I can see that you will not recognize what is right in front of you, nor the inevitability of this. It is larger than you, quite obviously. Fine." Another dismissive wave before he took back the paper. "Think, if you can manage it, of who you were about to name. Think, then, who he reports to. And so on, until you reach the very top of the list. With Calomel absent, who is that person?"

"Councilor Guillaume." The words were said quickly. She saw an opening to have this matter delegated up to a much higher authority, to no longer be plagued by it as she was here and now. THAT would be a relief.

"I see." He turned from her, yet spoke on, even as confident steps took him towards the door. He did NOT look back. "Have Guillaume informed that I will be calling upon him shortly." There was a slight smirk upon his face, though she would never see it.

Timing really was everything in life, wasn't it?

Reaching Giscard Guillaume, while not very difficult in theory, proved to be something of an ordeal in practice. Much of this was not his fault at all. It was more the case that, even burdened with a royal edict, a mere page filling in on a weekend, could not go straight to the man. There was protocol to be followed! The page's superior had to be found, which in itself, was not very hard, even on a Saturday. HIS Superior, however, was far trickier to find. Four of Myrkentown's more upscale Tavern's had to be scoured until the man was uncovered.

This man's superior was apparently visiting an estate outside of town for the weekend. There were limits to protocol, thankfully, so the decision was ultimately made Saturday night to simply write up and account of what has happened and send it both to Giscard's office in town and his personal residence. Sometimes the chain of command had to be skipped over somewhat. Of course, that meant that the missive would be from a less lofty official than the Councilor might prefer to deal with, but the mention of a royal seal would prevent it from being discounted outright. At least, that was the hope. Many of the current Government officials were relatively new and did not know Guillaume well, except for by reputation.

All of this added up to Giscard almost certainly having the information in his hands by noon on Monday... the information and a warning that he would very soon have a visitor demanding a response that satisfied.

Within the hour a response is delivered to Reinstadler's present lodgings; the courier is well-clad and quiet of manner, and gentle with its insistences that such word be delivered directly into the hand of the Lord himself. Is 'Lord' inappropriate? A correction may be received with quiet gratitude.

The response itself serves simply to advise Reinstadler that the interim Governor will receive him at particular and well-appointed offices upon Station Row. A building is named, and the missive's recipient advised to name an hour of his choice. With that in hand, this nameless person will make himself swiftly absent.

Another note arrives at Councilor Guillaume's doorstep, wherever that might be given the courier is well-paid indeed. That letter is short and simple (and horrendously hard to read, given its author's usually sloppy, heavy-handed script).

= = = = =

Giscard,

What of this odd fellow shouting out demands in the square, sending Cinnabar off on a rather odd, sudden errand, and claiming to be of royal placement?

We need to talk!

A. H. T.

= = = = =

[INDENT]I, Giscard Guillaume, Lord of Lothbury Estate, Councilor of the Myrken Wood Judiciary In Regards To Defence and Civil Security, Interim Governor Etc., to Aloisius Treadwell, Councilor of Administrative Sanctions: Greetings.

I am offered the distinct pleasure of an afternoon in the Lord Reinstadler's company; such matters as these shall surely play some part in our conversation. As regards your dealings with the King's emissary: his presence surely affords us a unique opportunity to engage his Majesty's influence upon certain matters. To whit, I will press upon you to assemble a list of those trifling concerns to which this emissary may wish to apply his personal touch.

In addition, the lord Reinstadler is newly-arrived to Myrken Wood; it would be remiss to leave the man to his own devices during his stay in our merry township. I trust that you will arrange a tour of Myrkentown's finer points for the good emissary, with particular attention paid to such things as the architecture upon Station Row, perhaps; the quality of those fares on offer upon Weaver's, perhaps even a tour of the noonday market. We need not trouble him with the filth and clutter of the barracks, nor the dull records and documents which our Meetinghouse hosts. Such a tour might occupy one, two, perhaps even three days of lord Reinstadler's time, to the benefit of one and all.

Done by my hand at 15 Station Row, this 7th day of April.
Giscard Guillaume.

P.S.: as regards this list; it would appear that the Meetinghouse suffered its damage at the hand of enemies not only of our territory but of the Crown itself. Perhaps the lord Reinstadler might secure his Majesty's funding, as regards its repristination.[/INDENT]

Was it strangely telling that a house in town had already been found for Reinstadler and his retinue? Was it telling that the house had been rented in advance? Usually, a political agent intending to stay for just a short period of time would simply rent a wing of one of the more upscale inns? A house HAD been found, however. It had belonged to a recently departed merchant. The man's frustrations over the current trading situation with Heath had caused him to take matters into his own hands. Tragically, he did not survive the dangers of the road. It was a building of urban luxury and it suited its current occupant quite well.

The courier had been met by an equally polite man at the door. When it became obvious that he would not be able to receive this message for his master, the messenger was brought directly to Reinstadler. The old merchant's office had already been taken over, converted in full. It had been redecorated in advance to better fit the current fashions of the capital. Telling, indeed.

Upon arrival, the man was not allowed to give his message directly to the Graf. No, he had to say it, word for word, to the doorman, who then turned and repeated it to Reinstadler. Truly, anything else would be below proper sensibilities, especially so early into the nobleman's trip. This Guillaume did not even have the good sense to pen this message in his own hand. If the business was not so pressing, he might have had the courier... ah, but business was pressing and compromise was important, was it not? Myrken was not exactly what he had expected from the stories. There would be a bit of a learning curve even for him. For now, it was important to be tolerant and patient. or at least to seem it.

Josef turned to his own man. "Tomorrow at noon," was said without the least bit of hesitation. Yes, business WAS pressing, but this would be done on his own terms at a time and day of his choosing. He would not run off to meet with the Councilor today. The whole situation could stew in uncertainty until tomorrow. The doorman repeated the simple response to the courier and briskly showed him to the door.

Tomorrow, then.

And one very annoyed Captain, pacing about like a cat through the Government offices --

-- she has promised her loyalties, yes, but now that Chedwry has made them one and the same, there is only so much Agnieszka Kaczmarek will take before she just gets on a horse and rides over there herself.

Which is an option to seriously consider, she thinks, pausing before Cinnabar's empty office once more.