get_off_my_lawn: (howl)
Taryn Shadow-Walker ([personal profile] get_off_my_lawn) wrote in [community profile] imperial_stage2012-07-09 10:40 am

The Awen Moot

Who: Taryn Shadow-Walker, any members of Awen and visiting fellows
What: The Moot aka Awen Court
When: Backdated to the night of June 27th because I suck (half moon)
Where: Alilany
Warnings: there will be some combat and bloodshed

Notes: Here is a reference for how Moots are done in the Werewolf: the Apocalypse canon that Taryn is based off of. There are some differences, like being held on the half moon instead of full moon and the structure is a lot looser. Anyone that ICly looked into what a 'moot' is will find some very old tales mentioning wolf 'beastmen' and how they would gather every month to reaffirm themselves. And that's about it.

Alilany was always a rustic, peaceful city in Lerrian, full of beastmen, fae and some humans. Very tribal with little technology, more magic, and sense of home to any that were able to relax in the forests that surrounded the capital of Awen. Even the Warders, the special beastmen guard the capital were rarely seen, blending into the environment easily. But with the Moot, it was different.

Now, the spiritual center that Alilany was became more pronounced as the shamans went about cleansing the city and preparing it, as if the receive Gaia herself. Who knew, perhaps Mother Earth would grace the Moot with her presence. Earthy music filtered through the air - drums and pipes, but mostly drums - and the large clearing in the center of the city was ready for those who wished to participate in the Moot - be it spiritual communication, airing of grievances, petitions to the Ar-Righ, or simply the Revel at the end. The Warders were far more visible, meeting and greeting any foreign dignitaries that chose to attend. Weaponry was allowed at the Moot, for only a fool would draw their weapon at a Moot outside of formal challenge, so there was no need to ban them. Awen was, after all, a strong nation if small.

There was no throne in the clearing for the Ar-Righ to sit upon. No, that wasn't how Taryn or her lineage did things. Instead, there was a large boulder containing some of the gemstones from Arird to the southern end of the clearing, big enough to serve a similar function as a throne, with torches on either side and trophies from the battle with the Raiders on display. In the very center of the clearing was an impressive bonfire, easily controlled by the shamans nearby. Musicians to one side, others were seated on the ground or standing around and there was no specific place for the foreign dignitaries. If they were expecting special seating, they wouldn't find any favor, though if they moved to position themselves close to the rock, Taryn would have room made for them.

With a loud howl that carried and echoed off the trees, Taryn called the Moot with the ceremonial tribute. Beastmen of all sorts raised their voices to join her, howling, growling, warbling and even some of the humans mimicked the wolf's howl. The drums and other music faded so all that could be heard was the beautiful chorus of the people of Awen calling out to the land. After a few seconds, the Opening Howl ended and there was silence save for the crackling of the bonfire and any quiet muttering from those visiting that didn't know what to expect.
greyerrant: (Squinty)

Cracking of the Bone

[personal profile] greyerrant 2012-07-09 06:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Loken will wait for all the local challenges and requests to be dealt with. A leader must see to the home first. Once foreigners are addressed, he'll wait his turn until Taryn signals him to approach, or there is a silence indicating she has time to speak with him. Once again, there is a sense of strained tension about him, less than fully comfortable in the wild abandon of the Moot, which plays on his nerves and the for the moment chained dynamo of rage and dutiful destruction which powers him of late. When the time comes, he'll speak, in a deep voice, one that carries without shouting,

"I have come as Dictator of Rome, the named Successor of the Rose Empress to request a formal Alliance with Awen." His cloak shifts a bit, exposing more of the white demi-armor, and the massive warrior beneath. Few here outside of Taryn outmass or tower over him, but he seems to be trying to keep his threatening presence on a tight leash. Garviel is consciously biting any arrogance or sting out of his words with effort. His face is pale in the half-moon, and a keen observer might catch the presence of a few sigils of the New Moon on him, a nod to his ancient role in the Mournival of Horus Lupercal.

greyerrant: (Default)

[personal profile] greyerrant 2012-07-09 07:26 pm (UTC)(link)
"Several reasons: My Empress, Nero Augustus Germanicus, had good relations with the Beastmen previously. I would not wish to turn my back on her will in this matter. The second is shared blood. I remember well that your beastmen stood with us when I brought what blades of Rome I could against Avshar, and I sent warriors and suboordinated myself to your command during the recent rout of the Raiders. We are different in how we fight, certainly, but I would prefer to fight by the side of Awen's brave warriors against the storms that are breaking in Dagaria, rather than stand by and let them fight alone, or worse, to be pitted against them." Garviel pauses a moment, his tone fairly even, though there is an undertone of tension in it. When he speaks of being pitted against Awen, even in theory, there is a sense of great regret in his voice, the very idea almost anathema to him. After the pause, he continues,

"There are also mercantile considerations as well. An open and friendly border benefits us both with safe trade routes, and there are many that would welcome what Awen can provide in Rome, and it is my hope that perhaps the citizens of Awen would welcome Roman goods as well."

Another brief pause.

"Cultural exchange would also be a welcome byproduct of such an alliance. Rome has much to learn from you all about.... nature and the world that surrounds them, as concerned as we are with building cities and researching the crystals. And in return, the university of Onylith offers much in way of knowledge about the crystals, and other matters of research various and sundry. It is the center of a research project to defeat the plague that has beset us all, even now, and we would welcome any who wished to contribute from your lands. We'll share the results of what we find regardless of the decision made today, for such research is done for the good of all, but this is simply an example of the sort of valuable information and culture we are willing to share with you."

He finishes with this, "The last reason is personal. I believe I can trust you. We rarely agree, and often anger each other, but in the end, you are a being of blood and honor. I can deal with such." Far more easily than he can deal with Aznable, Mitsunari, or the damnable Fuhrer, he thinks to himself.

At the end of this, Garviel goes very silent. Outside of inspiring his men in battle, or making a plea to the noble heart of a fellow warrior, he rarely likes to speak this much. Better to contemplate for a long time, and do what must be done when the time comes. The moment clearly weighs on him, his light skin growing a bit paler as he talks, though his grey eyes show little, either in warmth, or anger.
Edited 2012-07-09 19:28 (UTC)
greyerrant: (The knight of shadows)

[personal profile] greyerrant 2012-07-09 08:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Garviel nods his head a fraction, not breaking eye contact, but acknowledging her questions as good ones. He inhales, taking a moment to muster up his self-control and his thoughts as best he can.

"I call myself dictator because I will never presume to call myself an Emperor. I am not of noble blood, nor was I designated a Princeps, or Imperator by the Senate. I was designated by Nero herself in extremis, and found the title of a man given sole power during an emergency... for a limited time period. I have no desire for dynastic rule, simply to safeguard Rome. Thus, I went to the old codexes, and found a title I could bear, without making myself into a pretender."

He pauses. The implication being clear enough. Garviel sees himself as a protector of Rome, a ruler for a time. Therefore.... at some point he will be choosing a successor. Whether that complicates or simplifies things for Taryn and Awen is up to her.

"I am not a man of personal religion, though I honor and acknowledge it as part of Dagaria." It seems to have been like eating nails for Garviel to say that sentence, bitterness and anger roiling off him in nigh-visible waves. "I do, however, have an allegiance to the Master of Mankind, as he was once known. But he trusts my judgement, and will allow me to rule Rome as I wish. Humanity would not be benefitted by a war between Rome and Awen, nor would... Nature." He ventures a guess that she reveres Viridi in some manner, though she calls it Gaia, and that thoroughly confuses him.

"If you speak of Viridi, I have.... had words with her. I will admit I often disagree with her dictates, and her demands, but we are able to at least speak with one another. You will note Rome does not ravage the world in the way that Amestris does, and what industry we have tends to be magical, rather than overtly destructive. We're a nation of scholar, warriors, and stone-masons, rather than the great forges and mills that cast a pall to the south of us both."

He frowns, obviously trying to balance his words. "We both have our allegiances to our masters. I would say that cooperation, rather than blades and claws to the throat, will serve us both. This continent, indeed, this world, sees enough of war and corruption from the Rift. For that is anathema to us all. We are but servants, though. You cannot disobey your lord, and cast aside your honor any more than I could. I think it is incumbent on us as rulers to find a way to stand back to back with honor, and convince our lords this is the best route by example, rather than argument."

greyerrant: (Squinty)

[personal profile] greyerrant 2012-07-09 09:47 pm (UTC)(link)
For a moment, something almost like shame can be smelled from Garviel. It would seem he is aware of his own seeming hypocrisy, and it eats at him.

"I see. Well... I can understand the idea of a spiritual parent myself." After all, what else was the Emperor to the Astartes if not their Grandfather. He nods to her comment about the nature of her relationships with and disagreements with Gaia. "I shall keep it in mind at all times."

He'll let Taryn direct the flow of the conversation now. He has made his request, he won't come to her home and be demanding and proud. His own appearance has made her hackles rise enough, he can already see.

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not_the_ship: (A bit more regal)

[personal profile] not_the_ship 2012-07-09 08:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Even reclining in a compact leonine posture as he was, Temeraire's head still towered well above the gathered crowd. Despite the breastplate on his chest newly polished of its battlescars and decorated with his Destiny Stone, his boyish curiosity was quick to reveal itself. Glancing about, at this and that and some other thing, flicking his tongue at these new smells and prickling his ruff at the strange sounds. He even wiggled his talons slightly, lifting them away for a surprised moment from an earth suddenly alive.

Some of the braver beastmen had clambered onto the dragon's back in lieu of finding alternate seating. First the hawk beastmen like some manner of roosting bird, then, one at a time, a varied bundle of beastmen and a precious few humans, some dragged aboard by their comrades. Temeraire, used to crewmen scrabbling about on his back, didn't seem to mind in the slightest; only flicking his ruff once.

He did have a reason for being here, besides mere curiosity. When a silence had fallen between the voices, Temeraire's own rumbled out to fill the void.

"Ar-Righ," and here he paused, briefly. Was this the place to ask...? "Could you teach me, to roar as you did during the battle?"
not_the_ship: (All these icons look left)

can I have my short term memory back brain that would be nice

[personal profile] not_the_ship 2012-07-14 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
"Ah, well..." the dragon rumbled, and then trailed off.

He hadn't given much thought to what being a dragon meant, besides most of the world being quite wrong. He was most certainly not a mere beast, and only savage when he wished, or there was fighting to be had, or...well.

...and he did so like those shiny gems that Bradley had given him, even though they were safely ensconced in a bank now, he dreaded to be parted from them.

"I can offer my service once more; not forever, should Kushana return, I must go to her side at once, but in the interim..."
not_the_ship: (More personality)

[personal profile] not_the_ship 2012-07-14 11:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Temeraire's ruff flared out again; in relief, yes, but with no little excitement as well. The end of his tail switched a little, as well--though not too much, as there were people all around him he had to be mindful of.

"The Ar-Righ is most kind," the dragon's voice is much lighter in tone now. "What must I do?"

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revanisms: (You.  Kitchen.  Now.)

[personal profile] revanisms 2012-07-09 09:22 pm (UTC)(link)
"I have a challenge I wish to issue."

Revan steps forward while saying this, his cloak wrapped around him as he drew himself to a halt. He had waited until last for a reason. After a moment, he bent slightly at the waist in deference to Taryn.

"Shall I?"
revanisms: (SO SAY WE ALL)

[personal profile] revanisms 2012-07-09 09:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Revan wasn't one prone to speeches but he was a very good public speaker. His charisma had always taken him places that he wouldn't normally have been able to go to.

With one more sweep of his cloak, he turned to face everyone.

"People. Since the beginning of time, one rule has always held true. The victor is always right. He sets the rules, he makes the history. That is the purpose of these challenges.

And today, I challenge one who stands in the audience now. The current ruler of Rome! I decree that this man is too addled and weak to even be fit to lead a company of soldiers, much less a nation. While the outcome of this challenge will have no effect on his position, it will give me the satisfaction of knowing the correct answer.

If that ruler disagrees with my statement, then he is free to accept my challenge."

He had waited until last for the very reason of garnering more attention. His reasons for this challenge were obvious. If Revan won, he just might cause trouble enough in Rome to make it ripe for the picking. Whether or not he actually believed what he said was irrelevant in the larger picture.
greyerrant: (There is only war)

[personal profile] greyerrant 2012-07-09 09:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Garviel might have been more shocked after their battles together against Avshar, but the recent losses the Crusade Company suffered during the engagement with the raiders have left him with no illusions about Revan, though he still understands his charisma, and respects his tactical ability. He seems to lose his temper for just a moment, though, considering himself almost betrayed, and his fists clench, snarling. The other Romans shrink from him, remembering the gory scene the last time the Dictator lost his temper in a public setting.

"Your challenge is accepted!"

He hands off his cloak to one of his retainers, exposing his bare, powerful arms, and consciously unclenches his fists, his fingernails trailing rich blood where they have dug into his palms. He bears only a Gladius. A functional blade, well crafted, but no match for his chainsword or bolter, left at home to be repaired and tested for the battles to come.

revanisms: (Pose Of Fury)

[personal profile] revanisms 2012-07-09 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Good, Garviel was angry. That means he knew that Revan really didn't like him much in the first place. Especially after that last military action, only the most foolish or idealistic would have considered assuming that.

"The terms shall be this. When one of us can no longer fight, the other will be declared victor. Death will be barred, however."

Revan was under no illusion of easy victory. Garviel had a massive power advantage over him, that was for sure. Revan had not even once fully exposed how he really fought, even in the thick of battle. But now, he knew he'd need it to even just fight evenly.

Both of his lightsabers came free of their clips at his waist. One was normally kept hidden so two would have been a surprise for anyone. One ignited with a molten red color and the other ignited in dark purple.

"Do you accept?"

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imperial_mods: (Dakren Khan)

[personal profile] imperial_mods 2012-07-10 01:45 am (UTC)(link)
The creak of armor echoes throughout the forest as a man clad in armor strides confidently into view, the shriek of an Elder Red Wyrm echoing overhead.

"I am Dakren Khan of the Dragons of the Sands!" he announces in a booming, somewhat hollow voice. "I would treat with she who claims rulership of this tribe."
imperial_mods: (Dakren Khan)

[personal profile] imperial_mods 2012-07-10 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
"The Dragons of the Sands recognize strength. We had thought the people of the Mountain Walls weak and indolent, with their walls and courts. However, you proved that there is strength here. We have slain many of your people, and while we know we cannot replace their lives it is our honor and duty to pay what we owe. Thus, we present you with this!"

Dakren kneels before Taryn and produces a giant egg from the folds of his cloak.

"This egg will birth a Queen Drake, a fitting gift for you. My men have left two clutches of Firedrake eggs outside your encampment, they are yours to use as you see fit."
imperial_mods: (Dakren Khan)

[personal profile] imperial_mods 2012-07-11 02:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Dakren shakes his head.

"We are honored by your offer, but it is time for us to go. My people have been too long from the sands, and with our business in Dagaria complete, it is time that we return. You were a noble enemy, Lady Wolf, may we cross blades again in days to come."

And with that, Dakren turns and strides out of the encampment.