The Myrken Wood Judiciary has gone through a great many scribes, this last year -- no doubt the stress of even the most simple meetings wear their nerves thin to the point of distress -- and at present completely lacks one; Councilor Guillaume has once again found himself assembling minutes of the meeting, a task which falls to him not because his penmanship is the loveliest, but because it's an irritating task and no-one else cares to be troubled by it.
The fact of this has not escaped him, and likely contributes to the man's present mood, which is quite explosive; he writes with sharp jerks of the quill, and already, the tabletop -- a fine rosewood which surely deserves better treatment -- is littered with spots of swiftly-drying ink. This has been, after all, a damnably difficult meeting to write up, and the difficulty lies in phrasing things in such a manner that they won't have someone or other immediately jailed for treason, or some such rot.
"Thankyou, gentlemen. It is an honor to accept this position; I can only hope that we may bring some order to what has, of late, been a region rather in turmoil."
So had spoken the Marquis Al-D'arcu, and isn't that one's election to office a relief? They might, after all, have ended up with that madman Dhugal, and in any case, it's a pleasure to have a bit of good blood in the room; certainly, the man makes a fine foil to the earthy O'Cynen. But things had continued in that vein: congratulations all around, a gathering of wealthy old -- and not so old -- men basking in their self-satisfaction...
"I wouldn't worry about 'etiquette' too much. Come to meetings regularly, and you might see me punch another governor. Which, Gad, I'd like to apologize for."
....well. More or less. But in time they'd moved to the most immediately urgent matter: that of a new Governor's election, desperately required by a township eager to sieze onto some form of fresh, stable power. They could hardly afford them to shift their loyalties to, say, the Inquisition. Three choices had been presented: Alexander Kanashia, previous Captain of the Guard and present interim Governor; Altias Bromn, Councilor of good standing; and Gad Phuri, once Alosius Treadwell, but no-one cared about that now, since the differences between he and the original Gad were so bloody small.
"Arguably the first difficult decision I've had to make."
"I would venture to lean against Bromn... Of all three, he is the most determined idealist. I would not have the people's Hero become corrupted by a surfeit of sudden power."
"And the other two? Phuri is untrustworthy, but while we haven't seen a particularly blessed period under his governorship, those events are things we can hardly blame him for. And then Kanashia? ... The captain was specifically put out of the 'order of command', as it were, to avoid martial law..."
"Indeed...there has been already this week some small conflict between Guard and Judiciary, and a repeat of this could be disastrous."
Which was, God help them all, the very next order of business; they'd avoided mentioning it this entire time, and surely for reasons of outright distaste.
"We dare not, gentlemen, put this township in the hands of a man who lacks the.. the gumption to steer it back towards peace and prosperity."
"Kanashia is a good man, from all that I hear... I can see that he is very cunning, and a man of ambition. Of Phuri, I will say only this.Perhaps weakness...would allow this Council, as a body of demokratos - as spoken of in the old world - many minds holding each other's ambitions in check - more freedom to act, in the interests of the people."
Which had been a damned good point, and it had seemed that they'd actually reached a concencus here, both men casting their votes, one of them already noted down in good, black ink, when:
"There remains, of course, another option. Were we to elect Bromn as Governor, we could install Kanashia -- or, no, Gad, as you prefer -- as Councilor in his place. Were you, that is, eager for the benefits the peoples' adoration of the man might bring..."
"I can't imagine the sense the people would get from noting such a dramatic shift in their council could be all that good."
"Pigswallow, Joseph; unless they are blind, deaf and addled, they've already noticed it."
"It seems ...remarkably well-concieved, to me."
"But then...Actually...yes. It might very well be."
And that, as they say, was that; the gentlemen in question had been ushered back from the foyer to which they'd originally sent -- the Judiciary guards its voting as preciously as it does its coffers -- and:
"Altias Bromn, we invite you to take your seat as Governor and Judicar of Myrken Wood."
"...surprise surprise."
"Well. Congratulations, Governor Bromn."
Which had been a particularly perturbed Gad indeed, one already launched to his feet in a tremendous wave of blubber; why, even the mention of their plan -- to have those eligible choose between he and Kanashia to replace Bromn's position as Councilor -- had mollified him not in the slightest.
"Then you're one of a pack of fools, Councilor, if you put this before the public right now."
"Gad. Sit your great arse down, for a moment, if you please."
"By the will of the people, for the will of the people, or some such rot, eh?"
"There is no vote. Gad Phuri is the new Councilor, I have a new order of business."
Which turn of events likely made the lot of them regret, just a little, not having set Kanashia in the role of Governor after all; it was the most swiftly-made decision the Judiciary had seen in some good months, undoubtedly, one which received no argument from anyone, and which opened up the next can of worms quite efficiently.
Or disastrously, depending on one's taste for treason...
