[B]Summit of Balfiera[/B]

As much as it pained angered everyone in the great hall to hear such words being spoken about them, they could not help but as to view it as true. It was simply just that, and just how their crowns blocked any hope of a unified High Rock like the once great Emeric Dynasty, so too did it keep High Rock out of international politics, something the monarchs felt sore about immediately after their trail of thought brought them the revelation.

“Gaius is right.” Narcisse spoke, not hiding his begrudging tone nonetheless.

“Yes, he is. If the Elves truly do plan to take all of humanity and put them under the yoke of their oppression, we must do our part to put a stop to such a dystopian future. If you will hear my words and put serious thought to them, we may be able to do just that,” King Ferrand spoke in a grave tone, waiting for a while, trying to drum up everyone’s attention, “I propose a vote. Each of our monarchies and other forms of government hold roughly the same amount of fiefs, give or take a few. For each lord under us from noble houses both notable and irrelevant, one vote is given to the King that lords over them.”

“And this vote will achieve what, exactly, King Ferrand?” Narcisse asked for everyone in attendance.

“A High King, like in days of old, when High Rock was something to be feared and reckoned with,” He held up a hand, sensing more incessant arguing fast approaching, “This High King, while having executive powers, will have to be voted into power and will have to reach a majority vote among the monarchs to enact such powers. In turn, the High King’s word is to be followed without complaint in times of war and in matter of international politics, but your realms are yours to govern. The High King takes into account the sentiments of all of the realms under him when making decisions on the political stage.”

“And you are to be the first High King, no dou-“

“Hush, man.” Drand Duke Beralt shot a glance at Narcisse to quiet him.

“No,” He said simply, “No independent monarch may vote to keep the election fair. Instead, Pirate-Lord Ambrose will send letters to the Despot of Evermor, once a vassal-state of Wayrest with my blessing to add weight to your words, Grand Duke Beralt is to send letters to the Vice-Duke of Shornhelm, King Frithjolf is to send letters to the Earl of Farrun and I shall send letters to the Baron of Betony.”

“And what are these letters to do?” Ambrose asked, his first words in the Summit.

“These nobles will act as electors. No monarch may vote, remember this,” He said, “Prince Narcisse, take into account the skill and experience of the High King you vote for as well, for as the smallest of the Kingdoms wielding the least power, you will also be granted an electorate position, granting you a measure of power amongst your stronger brethren here,” turning to Gaius, “This is the way to a united High Rock I have dreamt of, Emperor Gaius. Through this, your most loyal Province will be whole once more and ready to defend not just its own interests, but the interests of the Empire. The voting is to start at an agreed upon time to be decided among the monarchs and heads of state after this Summit.”

[B]Courtier Niklaus of Gradskeep, Formal Ambassador in Place of King Ferrand Bellemont of Daggerfall
Stormhold, Black Marsh
20th of Mid Year[/B]

So. This was Stormhold. These were buildings, yes, they were nothing compared to what he’d been born in in High Rock. His family were afforded a very minor holding of land in the countryside of Daggerfall and even that little spit of dirt, grass, crops and serf sweat looked better than anywhere here. Niklaus spent a lot of time holding the corner of his traveling cloak over his nose, as swamps tend to have smells worse than anything a man may give off- even dead ones, and as he smelled the bog-rot on his travels around Argonia he found that he’d take cuddling with a corpse over this. It was then when he wondered what he possibly could have done to earn an assignment such as this.

He was in the city now though. The guards didn’t give him much resistance on account of him flying the banners of Daggerfall. Though, he knew that the lizards manning the gates were unfamiliar with banners from places as far off as Daggerfall and only cared that they were banners at all. Niklaus had to grin at the kind of treatment a strip of cloth on a stick gave a man, much less the fire spitting golden lion’s head rampant on a burgundy field. Daggerfall. All of High Rock was a haven for spies and assassins but Daggerfall… Speaking of spies and assassins, he’d taken three with him, one disguised as one of ten of his men-at-arms, another being disguised as his servant-boy and another placing himself among the twenty mercenaries he’d hired along the way.

All of them were nightblades, afforded by King Ferrand Bellemont and assigned to Niklaus for spying in Cyrodiil. Niklaus had brought three of the seven given to him. He was instructed to represent all of High Rock at this summit, but his job dictated that it was indeed all of High Rock but mostly Daggerfall.

As he stepped out of the carriage once they reached the place where all of his fellow attendees seemed to be gathering, he tried his hardest to refrain from looking anything the way he was feeling about Argonia. How anything could live in this hellish place, Niklaus didn’t know.

“This is a shit place…” Niklaus mumbled oh-so-quietly to himself.

[B]Everard III of Wayrest, Unofficial Man-at-Arms to Courtier Niklaus of Gradskeep the Insufferable Ponce
Stormhold, Black Marsh
20th of Mid Year[/B]

“This is a shit place.” Everard grumbled to Brother Mathieu.

“Yes.” He replied.

Everard took a few moments to look about from beneath the visor of his helm. He sensed them being watched from somewhere, everywhere. He knew they were, from the rumours of that Argonian with the letter that brought them to this place it wouldn’t be hard to believe that the same kind of assassins and spies that could slip through Daggerfall’s defences and leave again couldn’t find it within their skill to lean against a pillar and watch, or don a new persona and observe while selling local cuisine out of a cart. No doubt the other attendees had brought spies of their own, he knew Niklaus did that insufferable bitch. It was a good thing he’d brought his own. From the corner of his eye, something struck him first with curiosity, then recognition and knowing. He motioned for Brother Montyard and when he came, his horse clip-clopping over, he warned, “We’re being watched, but I probably didn’t have to tell you that. Any movements we make will have to be very discreet. If anything, we are only to sit and listen. If we’re barred from the chambers, Montyard, find a way in for yourself and come back to me when you can.”

One of the other men-at-arms brought themselves over, “You feel it too, huh?”

“Yes. Eyes.” Everard said, not hiding his disgust.

Everard’s brothers and the other men-at-arms made to lift their visors before Everard put an unassuming gesture out, but the rest knew what it meant and left their visors down, wordlessly agreeing. It would be quite the time in Argonia. No friends here and far from home.

“This is a shit place.” The other man-at-arms grumbled.

“Yes.” Everard grumbled in return.

[B]Actions:
-Envoy of High Rock has arrived in Stormhold, as well as wildcard Everard III[/B]