(LOG) The Decision

(20:22) Drysllthen sat straight at the head of the council table, garbed in his ornate black surcoat with the Valenti blue workings, sword at his hip, hands folded up on the table. They would march soon, and the last, the very last of the official agreement had to be witnessed. Any more delays and they would be stalling. He'd requested the presence of all advisors and generals along with the Swordking, and thus he waited, the massive map of Nharati looming on the wall behind him. Papers rested before him, the broad strokes of the agreement carefully outlined. Something verging on stern lingered on his face, the usual easy smile buried beneath solemnity.

(20:29) Tyltin V marched into the room at the front of his column of sworn men--the few that had accompanied him, at any rate. Kerrich and Stephen were close behind, followed by two large grizzled generals, one each from Hnestor and Tsgerl, making his whole party five in total. Dressed in his own lighter blues, he took his seat beside his nephew, grimly assessing the map before coming to rest. "Drysllthen," he said in greeting; whatever tangle his heartstrings wove, none of his turmoil showed on his face. Indeed, something approaching lust loitered at the edges of his expression, the bloody mist hanging just beyond his mind's eye. He signalled his company to sit where they would; despite his own ostentatious choice, he didn't immediately take charge of affairs.

(20:31) Kerrich followed his Lord into the room and bowed a greeting to Drysllthen (and his general, if Will's beaten them there.) He sat and rolled his quill, ink well and a roll of parchment in front of him, prepared to record important portions of the meeting for the archives. They said that the victors got to write history-- perhaps these papers would be dusted off and contemplated by his distant descendants, and perhaps they'd all die and his work would be burned to ash. Nobody ever got to know these things in advance. With nothing to add for the moment, he waited for the meeting to get underway.
(20:32) Kerrich: (that should read "rolled out")

(20:34) William Alexston arrived at the same moment as Kerrich, as it happened, done up in his usual metal and leather that by this point needed little or no description. He greeted with a low, "Your Highnesses, your Excellence," and took his seat. Really, he only had a little to contribute - the rest would surely be listening. Which he could so surprisingly well, for a thick-headed tinman. The final agreements. And then. Then he could get onto the battlefield where he belonged instead of these stuffy chambers talking about it. His expression was rather less lustful, and a tad more impatient. He'd been ready for it weeks ago. He wanted to get his gauntlets around his weaponry, his backside in his saddle and blood on his armour. That was a good day for William. This talking bullshit was Drysllthen's domain.

(20:39) Stephen Juntric was close behind Tyltin and the others that followed the prince, with no clear seating and even if there was he took a seat that allowed him to keep everyone in his line of vision. Before sitting, though he would bow and greet those there. He would scan the room, or rather view what he could of the left side of the room. He sat quietly waiting for the meeting to being, he was curious as to what the meeting would contain. Oh he had his guesses but he wouldn't know till the meeting started. He began tapping his thumb lightly on his knee as he waited anxiously

(20:45) Drysllthen inclined his head politely to his uncle and his men, observing in silence as they filed in along with his own entourage. William, of course, as expected, along with Drysllthen's general from Pfoergarth, several advisors and silently, bringing up the tail, his mother pale in her Valenti blues. Inconspicuously, she slipped into a seat at the rear, offering a smile to her son's nod. His attention left her for his uncle, nodding once more. "Tyltin," he greeted quietly. Silence held for another moment as he swept the faces of those gathered before him. Finally, he rose, a hand extended to keep them all to their seats. "I know we all have much to do, so I will not keep you long." His gloved hands clasped behind his back, shoulders squared."But you must all know the decisions that have been reached. There is to be a two-prong attack on Valys. My cousin.." His hand spread toward him. "..has offered to take the main town while my forces break through the castle walls." And there, he let it hang, absorbing reactions.

(20:54) Tyltin V didn't let his gaze linger on the red-haired woman, knowing well enough to keep from flaunting his growing passion for the coming fight to the Lady Wenfrith. Scooting his seat, he kept his jade eyes locked on his tall relative as the man rose and spoke. Kerrich remained in his periphery, studiously recording as always; their different worlds kept them from much private correspondence, but he doubted the man would begrudge him for his reward. On the main revelation, the general from Tsgerl snorted, and only a sharp glance from Tyltin kept the man's biting comment to himself. "Have you decided to bless me with a cohort of your men, Drysllthen?" Making it clear that he didn't intend any of his own to be present when the castle was stormed.

(21:08) William Alexston didn't react, as it happened. He simply sat with his hands interlaced in his lap, and accepted that he'd be going with Drysllthen. Much better for his personal sense of purpose than going to be a paranoia cushion with Tyltin, and really, he knew the taller Valenti was going to need a little spittle and foam to go with his cold-cut way of killing. Ice didn't motivate men. Heat the blood and the heart will follow. Really, there wasn't much for him to say. He was the one there to shut up and take his orders unless he saw some flaw with them, and they'd been over it so many times now that they couldn't really get any less polished. He knew what he was going to do, he knew where he was going, and with who. That was it, as far as he was concerned.

(21:10) Stephen Juntric stop tapping his thumb as Drysllthen called the meeting to order. He looked up, eyes following the guestures the man made. When the annoument was made as to who would be where during the seige, his brow arched. He looked between the two Princes, a pass conversation with Drysllthen made more sense now. His attention was drawn to the snorting General. Stephen remained calm, nothing revealed on his face. His eyes would travel back to both princes, his curiosity grew wondering what had been gained and what more had been lost. Again he waited patiently for more to be said.

(21:21) Drysllthen glanced toward Tyltin when he spoke, a smug remark wanting to escape his lips, but he kept his face smooth. "Only if you find you have need for them, cousin." He managed it without acid, more an offhand remark as he continued. "Our sides will find each other joined together in this battle. Once we take Valys, my cousin and his men will be welcomed to my council, Tyltin himself as Nharati's Marshall and Crown Prince, and Lord Somneri as Chancellor." He paused to find Kerrich in those assembled to offer him a nod. "Provided that the proper oaths are sworn now." His gloved hand passed over his paper to see if he'd missed any but the final heavy term. "Beyond that.." His voice softened slightly as his eyes slid toward Tyltin. "I have the privilege of offering my cousin Lady Maeryn Wenfrith's hand in marriage. Do any take exception to these terms?" Blue eyes leveled upon the room, boring into each face.

(21:38) Tyltin V was wont to find the venom in his nephew's seemingly-innocuous remark, his own reply swallowed; the intrusion would've been more an annoyance than a help. He preferred having men loyal to him when he marched to war. A bit of nerves twisted within him when the terms were read out, wondering how his men would take them. The two generals seemed about to speak up when he waved a hand. "Of course I shall keep my own retainers and advisers," he said easily, the words far too diplomatic for his own taste. "After Valys, I won't have the worry of a crown to distract me from my duty." And his joy, he failed to mention...whether massacre or Maeryn, the distinction meant little. The Hnestor general stood, his face inscrutible. "My cousin swore his oath to Tyltin," he began contentiously. "But...if Tyltin will bend to Lord Valenti, we have no choice." He knocked the slightly-smaller man fron Tsgerl. "Honour binds us to follow the Swordking." Tyltin V's own roving eyes danced over Kerrich and Stephen, noting shock on the former though he couldn't quite discern the expression of the latter. "And you, Sir Juntric? Are you content to remain my ally in waging war?"

(21:47) William Alexston had absolutely nothing to say other than, "Sarmagh's alliegance remains with Prince Drysllthen." As it was bound to do, given who the man's wife was. It was an alliegance that wasn't about to be broken over something so... Trivial as who Tyltin would marry and which members of the council would be present. Fucking Hell, politics were boring. He had no idea how his mother stomached it, let alone enjoyed it as she did. Twaddlespeak! The lot of it. All necessary but entirely not his realm. Sarmagh's presence on Drysllthen's side was nigh on unshakable, so he'd really got even less to say now than he had at the beginning.

(21:48) Stephen Juntric listen as the list was read, naming those and the position they would hold. He frowned softly as he wondered if he would still be in need as Tyltin's personal advisor. He cleared his throat to draw attention to himself. One light blue eye, the other duller found themsevles upon Tyltin's face. His question hung on his lips, but before he could ask of his future, which he doubt anyone in the room would begrude him, his question was answered. He would nod his head. "Aye, Prince Tyltin I shall remain at you side, my services are yours for as long as you need them." His expression remained stoic as the thought of not being able to join the seige efforts personally irked him to no end, but no matter he would help in any other way he could.

(22:00) Drysllthen nodded his agreement to Tyltin's words. "As will I, of course." That wasn't particularly up to date, Drysllthen doubting the two sides would ever fully mesh. When the General stood to speak, his full attention weighed on the man. "As you say, General Ostheim, and I will be glad to have men of such honour bring Nharati together." His head dipped in a polite nod toward both the generals. Lord Juntric too, he acknowledged with a small nod. Pfoergarth's general joined with William's acknowledgement of their alliance, and Drysllthen straightened. He'd thought to feel thrilled or nervous, but it was simply with calm he turned to face his uncle fully. "Then it seems we are agreed, cousin. Will you swear before this company?"

(22:09) Tyltin V knew the moment would come, sooner or later. Despite his protests to the contrary, he did feel a distinct yearning to catch the crown--born, no doubt, by the avarice of those raising him. When he stood his head still tilted back to fully regard his nephew's face; the two men had nearly a foot's difference in height, after all. Deep in his memory, he heard Alric's drunken laughter turn to a scream, when wine and blood spilt over his white greatcoat one chilly winter's day. "I will," he breathed, gathering his courage. A sidelong glance brought him the faces of each man aroom, etching them in his memory. "There can be but one king in Nharati," he announced more heftily. And then, fighting the bile rising in his stomach, he actually managed to kneel with his head bowed. "My Lord," he said with closed eyes, "I pledge my heart and hearth to your service. My blades are yours to command."

(22:20) Stephen Juntric looked on without a harsh thought in him and as Tyltin swore his loyality to Drysllthen he nodded. He saw nothing but honor in his Lord, something he felt only the battlefield could create. Whatever had been promised to the others to support Tyltin and make the male king meant nothing to him, it wasn't why he'd supported the male in the first place. Now all that matter was making their beloved Nharati whole and peaceful. He felt things were moving in the right direction and if both Princes cared more for their country then themselves then peace for Nharati would come quickly.

(22:29) Drysllthen met his uncle's eye with a hint of a question in his gaze, wondering if the positions had been reversed if he could have knelt. It was a close thing. Watching his uncle kneel was positively surreal, and he regarded the top of his head intently. The words blazed in his memory, one King in Nharati. He bestowed an accepting touch to the top of his uncle's head, before extending an arm for him to grasp. "Then rise, Prince Tyltin Valenti, and we will fight together and we will be at peace together." He clasped his uncle's arm tightly as he gazed upon the gathered crowd. "And it is decided. Preparations are under way, and we will meet soon in front of Valys. If there are no further concerns, you may be about your business."