House Alvstad Takes Stock

["Amit J. Sabnis" <ajsabnis@stanford.edu>]

From Pers's point of view, once more. =]

 

Grand Balcony -- Alvstad Estate (Kaitain)
The grand balcony of the Alvstad Estate is a wide, ring-shaped band that overlooks an enormous dodecagon-shaped ballroom. Four radially symmetric staircases lead down to the ballroom, and four corridors lead off to the different wings of the estate. The balcony is noticeably dark--the walls are covered in dark cherry and the glowglobes are far apart and set dim. A twelve-panel circular mural covers the walls; it depicts, in ink-and-watercolor on silk, the full progression of the Alvst Zodiac.
Players:
 Alvstad-Bldr                                       Iohannes
Exits:
 Heavy Double Doors <S> leads to Mushtamal -- Alvstad Estate (Kaitain)
 Southwest Arch <SW> leads to Squid Corridor -- Alvstad Estate (Kaitain)
 Southeast Arch <SE> leads to Seal Corridor -- Alvstad Estate (Kaitain)
 Northeast Arch <NE> leads to Octopus Corridor -- Alvstad Estate (Kaitain)
 Northwest Arch <NW> leads to Lobster Corridor -- Alvstad Estate (Kaitain)
 Wide Staircase <D> leads to The Dodecagon -- Alvstad Estate (Kaitain)

 

Standing in front of one of the 12 murals that encircles the upper level of the Dodecagon, Pers looks for a moment like a figure out of a photograph. Wearing the uniform of the Noble Alvstad Navy, that odd cross between a uniform and the exotic apparel of the Alvst aristocracy, and standing just short of six feet, he appears to be some sort of statue rather than an actual person. He is intently studying the mural in front of him: the Year of the Penguin.

 

Iohannes passes slowly through the southeast arch, glancing about. Upon noting the stern figure of Pers Eskilsen, he steps slowly toward him, then clears his throat. "M'lord Eskilsen? It has been a long time..." He bobs briefly in a dancer's bow, his eyes thoughtful.

 

Kade enters threw the front door noticing the Ambassador. "Good evening Ambassdor.

 

Pers turns, arms clasped behind his back. He returns Iohannes's bow with a stiff one of his own. "Lord Haelms'ghill'dharr," he intones, Alvst accent impeccably sliding over the multiple syllables of the Ambassador's name. "It has, indeed, been a while. Perhaps too long," he muses, expression neutral and eyes locked thoughtfully on your own.

 

Iohannes sighs deeply, his own expression genial but distant. "Indeed, my Lord Admiral, indeed. There is much to discuss. Matters have taken an... unfortunate, turn. But, as the saying goes, 'One man's ill fortune can always be profited on by another...'"

 

(((At this point, Kade disconnected due to a thunderstorm.)))

 

Pers nods solemnly. "How true, Lord Ambassador. Although, this much is clear: whether our fortune be ill or beneficial, there was quite a conscious and specific effort behind it. The source of this effort is, undoubtedly, very close at hand. Where does that leave us?"

 

Iohannes clasps his hands before him briefly, then continues. "My Lord, let me be frank. It leaves in a dangerous and treacherous country, full of pratfalls and dangers. This House has been rocked by trouble for the last several years. First the madness of Lord Nils, then the rocky ascent of Lord Jans (accompanied by the fall of Lady Justine and her flight to House Corrino), then his recent death. With each of these disasters, the prestige of Alvstad has weakened a little more. Taken over decades, they would mean little. Occurring in the span of less than ten years, they usher in the potential for anarchy and a decline in our relationship with the other Great Houses."

 

"Politics," Pers answers with a brief nod. "Entirely your arena, Lord Ambassador, for which I am grateful. However...your points are entirely valid. While internally the Alvstad have dealt with this 'turn' with appropriate reserve and perseverence, our external image is gravely shaken." He pauses, lips drawn in a thin straight line across his face. "Given that we cannot extend these events over ten years...what do you recommend is done? Recant is impossible, as is restoration." There is a slight shift to his eyes as he adds this; undoubtedly, he will *personally* make sure that neither recant nor restoration are possible.

 

Iohannes smiles slightly. "Indeed, my Lord. The dominant line of our ruling House has come to a near end. Lord Nils still lives, but to ask him to return to power and sire a son after seeing so much tragedy in his life would be cruel. Further, I am unsure whether his health could survive it. There is Calix, but he is untried and youthful, and carries many of, let me be frank, the deficiencies that plagued Lord Jans's unhappy reign. Besides, his is not a clear claim. Indeed, there are many who could claim as clear a right to take over the reins of this House as he, wherein lies the problem..."

 

Iohannes says, "At least a dozen Houses Minor on Alvsgaard can claim some right to the Palace of Blue Stone. My own, my late wife's, my Lord Eskilsen's..."

 

Iohannes says, "And this does not take into account other Houses Major, who also have claims, and occasionally enjoy fishing in troubled waters."

 

Pers inclines his head neatly. "A matter which I discussed with the Siridar-Countess Moritani a short while ago. It is of note that she herself may attempt to cast a line into our House, although she is unclear at the moment for whom she should bait her hook." His lips tilt upwards in a cold smile. "Confusion does us well, at least temporarily. But clearly, some sort of coalition must come to a confluence that produces a single leader of the House. And two of the key candidates are in the Gallery at this moment." He tilts his head and half-bows to Iohannes in respect.

 

Iohannes smiles slightly. "Indeed, my Lord." He bends into a slight bow in return. "We both have claims. My own House claims descent from an old branch of House Alvsgaard. We've often felt that our own banner would better suit the Alvst Palace, but have been loyal for all that. Had this happened before, I might have chanced to seize it as a bauble for my own line." He spreads his hands. "But such is Providence, no? My Lord, too, has his own claim. I do think that neither of us, nor any of the other Minor Houses in Alvsgaard, wishes a foreign candidate. Lord Jans was foreign enough as it stands. Rather, if one of us could rise to preeminence, the others would fall, possibly noisily, into line..."

 

Iohannes coughs before continuing. "My Lord currently controls the navy, and enjoys the title regent. He has the confidence of the Senate, and of most of the ruling families. With the right support, he might enjoy much more..."

 

Iohannes says, "The question remains, however, as to what he can offer those who can bring this support with them."

 

"An interesting position in which I stand," Pers acknowledges with a nod. "But my Lord Haelms'ghill'dharr possesses much which I do not: direct and distaff relations to two of the oldest Families on Alvsgaard, the one older than Alvstad itself. In addition...my Lord possesses the blessings of the Bureau of Husbandry in producing an heir. Which I do not." He frowns slightly, as if this were a *very* old insult. "To the Alvstad I could bring what it most desires: a conservative return to less outfreyn ideas, and significantly less alienation amongst the Landsraad. But...I will require the services of one such as my Lord, qualified in diplomacy and commanding full familial respect on Alvsgaard." He pauses. "Perhaps as an heir," he adds.

 

Iohannes 's eyes narrow slightly, and his genially bluff expression becomes positively grinny. "Ah, my Lord flatters me! Still, I cannot turn my back upon my people now, nor upon honour. To be honest, my Lord, the Bureau of Husbandry can be made to change its mind when it comes to noble families, but, should it remain intractable, I should be delighted to serve as heir, and to buttress my Lord's efforts to achieve a sense of legitimate transition."

 

Iohannes suddenly turns grave, indeed, sombre. "Of course, my Lord, I accept this offer with true gratitude. It is an honour, and a boon which I shall not soon forget."

 

Pers's expression mirrors your own; with half-bow, he says, "No less is to be expected from the Lord Ambassador. Time for contemplation and meditation must be permitted; we shall speak again on the morrow. Good evening, my Lord," he concludes with a second stiff-bow before retiring to the Mushtamal to entertain his own thoughts.