Announcement from Captain-General Del'Rosa
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Cormac literally howls a laugh, and claps his hands together in a single terrifying, whip-sound crack.
"_The hell has any of this got to do with a pair of Elves? We are 'MEN', not the polished-arse types of men from Cormyr, or - haha - whatever that blonde said, Suzail? Same place, whatever, poncey whatever it is. Your decadent ways, bah, I spit on what you'd call 'right to rule'. We are men from the 'North', whether you appreciate or accept it or not - Elf - the right to challenge has ever been our way! Or has Peltarch gone soft in the loins since the old days?
Bah, I don't even care. Your city can cram itself up it's own ass for all I care. I'm not even from here, I just wanted to see if I could scare the old bastard to death - bahah!_"
With that he about turns and walks away, slow-clapping and cackling to himself like a mad dog, away and out of the city.
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- A male elf steps up beside the elderly man protectively wearing the Defenders armor and nods to him reassuringly*
Cormac was it? Perhaps you should move along, we don't accept challenges for Royalty. This is the decision of the people, not of some vagabond that wishes to display himself for all to see.
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Eilonna shakes her head
Blow it out yer ass Cormac before the guards here remove you for causing a disturbance. I would prefer the old man to you any day. Yer just still sore because you lost at a fair roll. Grow up and stop acting like a five year old boy, gods my sons act more mature then you.
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Cormac's eyes narrow at the Half-Orc, he snarls at the creature.
"Get lost 'soldier-boy', you don't want to be measuring axes with me. For all you know - I could be your next king, unless the old man is CHICKEN! Bahahah! But seriously. Get lost. Oppress someone who gives a half-a-damn."
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A towering half orc in Defender armor steps up to Cormac:
Yous keep calm. This Peltarch. We no challenge to rules. Peoples choose what want. If want senate, Peltarch has senate. If want king, Peltarch has king. Is not hard. If want measure ax, Vugdush ax bigger. So calm.
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The barbarian gives Elionna a look as hard as iron and growls a few words toward her.
"Shut your mewing mouth you damned brainless, gutless, thieving witch. I've never lied to you or to anyone else, you ugly-faced crow, it's because I'm so damn honest that you rat-people can't control your stupid tempers around me. I would be a 'great' king, a passionate king. A king with 'many' sons. A people's king, hah! What say you, Elf-chebs?* Would you rather have a king who's scepter can't royally rise to the occasion, or a manful, meaty, loving machine to lead your city into prosperity?"
((Chebs is a common slang word in my town for boobs))
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Lycka, after a hushed conversation with her youngest son and some stern finger-wiggling, straightens to give Martoushca an incredulous stare.
"Marty… first up, get your facts straight. Second, a -bit- rhetorical?"
She seems about to continue when Cormac's sudden bellowing disrupts her chain of thought, giving the tall barbarian a look that almost, but not quite, matches the first.
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Hrmph! Peltarch would turn Norwick into a colony! A king aspires to a kingdom, not a city!
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A female elf in a white gown some may recognize as Eilonna limps to the side holding a staff as she looks between the man and the Barbarian man yelling speaking calmly
To our yelling friend, you would be a horrible king, you have no patience, you can't stand losing, you lie and you make up stories to credit your lies to your benefit. Sorry but your not really fit to be king.
Secondly…She turns back to the older man I have no qualms with you becoming King, I would only ask what you would do about reforging the friendship between Peltarch and Norwick. Something that has been damaged for a very long time. Understandably we do not wish to become a part of Peltarch but prefer to work to become friends again and work to better one another.
She leans on the staff as she looks up to the man quietly awaiting his answer.
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A barbarian looms over many of the folk in the crowd, his face painted grimly with black streaks, his armour black, his tight leather pants - black. He points a finger at George and bellows out with a voice like thunder.
"You! Old man! You want to be king? 'I' want to be king. And you're so old and weak that 'I' think I'll take your crown. I challenge your right to rule, I challenge you to match me in a contest - of your choosing - to determine which of us shall be KING!!"
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@26f4ddcef9=Wywernywin:
George frowns at Marty's question, unsure how to answer
"I haven't spells cast upon me, nor do I have any items that I know of that are magical. But I am no expert in that field, and I do not know if King Tidus' legacy would count as magic or not. Perhaps you could help detect that?"
Oh I didn't think to prepare a Detect Magic spell today.
So, in response to questions about an heir, you mentioned "personal sacrifices" and that you would find a "new wife" if you became king.
So, please correct me if I have this wrong; you would cast aside your wife to sit on a throne - a throne you would only be sitting upon because you are a descendant of Tidus - And in doing so effectively destroy your father Tidus's work and every thing he stood for.
Do I have that right?
If so, then my question of you is this; as a king you would be a model for all men in this city to look up to. Inspiration to great deeds, or justification for slackness, will come from what people see in you. When a man considers his oath, a soldier considers his commitment to the city, when a merchant considers whether or not to be faithful to a customer or a deal, when a man considers whether he will be faithful to his own marriage vows … what place do you feel your example will bring them to?
That question was a bit rhetorical. Sorry about that. Of course we all know that a man who doesn't honor his marriage vow can't really be counted upon to honor any pledge he makes.
So a question that maybe you can answer for us. Your father king Tidus, the man who forged this city, do you believe he erred in wisdom when he created the senate and determined that the people should be ruled over by leaders of their own choosing?
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George frowns at Marty's question, unsure how to answer
"I haven't spells cast upon me, nor do I have any items that I know of that are magical. But I am no expert in that field, and I do not know if King Tidus' legacy would count as magic or not. Perhaps you could help detect that?"
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@9afad460ae=ClownBaby:
a battle scarred dwarf shuffles in from the west gate, his armor covered in flecks of blood spatter. As he makes his way to the Mermaid Inn, he stops by a group of Dwarven dock workers and watches the event take place. After a few chuckles under his beard, he leans to the dwarves and says, " King? He ain't even go o' proper beard! O' shiny new crown and o' sweet young maiden teh warm his bed? Bet it didn't take much more convincin' than that teh git him up on this stage, eh? That's wut oi call o' promotion!"
As Beorn makes his way into the Mermaid for a ale and a quick peek at Kat's cleavage before heading South, he mutters to himself,
"Good ole Corruptarch, business as usual…"
Brumir joins Beorn and pats him on the shoulder as they head into the Mermaid
"Look at da bright side kin, at least da bar lass here still has great teats! HAR!"
Meanwhile, General Theaon Thorn of the Troff Legion leans against a building with his arms folded watching the various reactions from people, not saying anything himself nor showing any emotions regarding the recent happenings.
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@20075e2cdb=Emerwyn:
Their charisma and wisdom inherited… even if that were true that doesn't make anyone into a good leader! Just the more wise to manipulate the truth and the more charismatic to bewitch us!
Aye.
Marty addresses George. She is a little less shouty now, but still raises her voice to make sure she is heard above the crowd
I have a serious question George. The priestess of Lathander made a good point about Peltarch being manipulated by those seeking power. An underhanded plot has robbed us of our senators. We still don't know for sure where many of them are. And an equally underhanded plot has presented you as a candidate to Tidus' throne.
You said that we should "support those that do work honestly." So I would like to ask, are you currently under the influence of wisdom or charisma enhancing magic? Or any other magical improvement?
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Hypocrite! - yells a man from the crowd - and what made Tidus a king, his noble lineage of ancestral generations of rulers? No, it was his effort and heroism! He was just one simple fisherman!
Their charisma and wisdom inherited… even if that were true that doesn't make anyone into a good leader! Just the more wise to manipulate the truth and the more charismatic to bewitch us!
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Inquisitor Damien Meynolt interjects…
"Taking an orphan and throwing them onto the throne would not make them a king, they have no claim to the throne, unlike George here whose lineage is led to King Tidus. Adopting them does not give them a claim either, their blood would not be one of nobility, which really does matter despite optimistic claims against it.
As the Scions of Siamorphe state "Their wisdom and charisma are inherited from their noble ancestors". This is not posturing, it is actual fact, Siamorphes divine power coursing through their veins.
And really, you can't say that having Noble blood changes nothing when anyone who has it inside them has a chance of becoming the next Siamorphe."
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The dock workers' chanting slowly fades out as George raises his hand.
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After George explains what he meant with "going abroad", Vera speaks again:
Uh… Right. Forget what I said about making me queen, mmmkay? Oop, I'm late. See ya!
She gives George a quick hug and darts off in a random direction.
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Having had all his questions answered Walter goes back to… whatever it is he does these days, though not without a parting chuckle.
"Well uh… I don't know about that, I'm pretty sure the old boy's 'boys' are still going strong. Men don't work like women ehhh... uhh.. yeah shouldn't get into details with -- well... him being high nobility and all, but, I reckon it uh... yeah. More to do with the ... er... than the seed. Ehh....."
His face bright red, and after making several gestures with his fist and his forearm, he hurriedly scarpers off.
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a battle scarred dwarf shuffles in from the west gate, his armor covered in flecks of blood spatter. As he makes his way to the Mermaid Inn, he stops by a group of Dwarven dock workers and watches the event take place. After a few chuckles under his beard, he leans to the dwarves and says, " King? He ain't even go o' proper beard! O' shiny new crown and o' sweet young maiden teh warm his bed? Bet it didn't take much more convincin' than that teh git him up on this stage, eh? That's wut oi call o' promotion!"
As Beorn makes his way into the Mermaid for a ale and a quick peek at Kat's cleavage before heading South, he mutters to himself,
"Good ole Corruptarch, business as usual…"
