A scratchy and confident voice began from behind the large marble table. The chair in which his liege sat was of equal refinement. Only the best Imperial craftsmen were secured for producing such quality items. The benefits of their toil and years of dedication to their profession always amazed him. Tyrion remained seated as Lord Black began.
"Our enemies visit our lands no more, or, on the occasion they gather the stones to do so in numbers or small insignificant groups of marauders. Even then, they are killed or abandon the fight. The Imperial Kingdom is secure, perhaps, the most secured dominion in all of these, known lands. Not even the men of the White cloth can attest to such a claim. I feel that by the grace of our Goddess, Esuna, a new golden age is on the horizon." "My liege, tis true, all, which you state. There have been no significant battles to report that would raise any indication to the contrary. We are aware of or in contact with sources that provide the information we require for dispensing Imperial justice. Our metamorphosis has given us this chance to consider new routes to further the glory of Imperial as a whole. One such option has become available." "Do tell me more. . ."
Lord Blackthorne's Hand
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Re: Lord Blackthorne's Hand
Tyrion finished by explaining, ". . .only the most rare and valuable and potentially lethal would be considered a target. The importance of this coven would be steeped in the rewards we are able to return to their rightful place, among the other trophies which the Imperium, which in years prior, had been known for. Such relics exist far and few between these days but maintain a modicum of consistency, enough to present the idea. Such destructive implements would have a higher value to us, obviously, but the goal would be to remove them from the reach of inexperienced hands and place them within the safety net of Imperium." "I'll admit, the idea intrigues me," Lord Black started. "The truth is that such a brotherhood would stress the boundaries of established diplomatic treatises and potentially garner the ire of the citizens in which we wish to attract to our lands. Concealment would not be possible either. Perhaps utilization of the mercenaries currently in our pocket or that of the others." He looked to Tyrion for some sign that would confirm that as a possible route to explore. Tyrion gritted his teeth and replied, "It would be a treacherous path to take, m'lord. They have proven themselves untrustworthy and wild; incapable of the benefits which we have to offer, but, we could look into it." Blackthorne, stood up and paced around his side of the room. He tapped his fingers on the fine marble crafted table and continued that pattern for some time, thinking all the while.
The command room was perfect for having these assignations. Nearly half a decade prior, Lord Blackthorne had used it infrequently to host guests, dignitaries and religious figureheads as well as other conspiratorial fellows. Many did not even realize the route into Lord Black's castle still existed, and so entering the building was a simple matter. Much of the castle had been braved by thieves and adventurers. Fools, wishing to make their claim to fame from looting the already empty estate. The ramshackle outward appearance served it's purpose though. Everything that could have been taken, was, the simple fact that the marble table and it's accompanying thrones remained was more of a practical decision than testing the ingenuity of the most skilled Imperialist thinkers. Not many even knew how the damn table got there, let alone how they would move it, it's weight was equivalent to that of the Imperial altar, and so, many assumed only the strength of Esuna, was capable of relocation. Blackthorne stopped pacing and turned to face Tyrion. Tyrion quickly refocused his attention. "There are too many unknowns. . We must determine our possible courses of action before taking them. Exhausting your sources would be a start before considering this further." I understand, I will set Maven too it when he has time." "Maven. . . A bright future for that lad." "Indeed, he shows promise." "Very good then, see it done." "Your will, my hand, m'lord."
The command room was perfect for having these assignations. Nearly half a decade prior, Lord Blackthorne had used it infrequently to host guests, dignitaries and religious figureheads as well as other conspiratorial fellows. Many did not even realize the route into Lord Black's castle still existed, and so entering the building was a simple matter. Much of the castle had been braved by thieves and adventurers. Fools, wishing to make their claim to fame from looting the already empty estate. The ramshackle outward appearance served it's purpose though. Everything that could have been taken, was, the simple fact that the marble table and it's accompanying thrones remained was more of a practical decision than testing the ingenuity of the most skilled Imperialist thinkers. Not many even knew how the damn table got there, let alone how they would move it, it's weight was equivalent to that of the Imperial altar, and so, many assumed only the strength of Esuna, was capable of relocation. Blackthorne stopped pacing and turned to face Tyrion. Tyrion quickly refocused his attention. "There are too many unknowns. . We must determine our possible courses of action before taking them. Exhausting your sources would be a start before considering this further." I understand, I will set Maven too it when he has time." "Maven. . . A bright future for that lad." "Indeed, he shows promise." "Very good then, see it done." "Your will, my hand, m'lord."