We left our carts of goods and the majority of our men within the 'bailey,' if one could conceivable call such a spacious and lavish courtyard that, within the Palace of the People. Many often applauded my oratory, but it was here where I was at my best, simultaneously treating with the high condotiarii of the palace, convincing my chamberlain on our next move, and allaying the fears of the captain while switching between Tilean and Imperial like a verbal gymnast. 

To this day I couldn't tell you all that was said, it happened so quickly, but within minutes we were swiftly greeted and lead to the great hall by Duca Moretti, the oldest member of the council, and the man who had presided over the seats of the triumvirate twelve times in his forty odd years of service. It was actually quite an honor to be greeted by him, as he was quite well known across Tilea from his heroic exploits in his younger years and his achievements of state in his golden years. I wished to speak to him personally, but I would have time for that later. The Chamberlain and myself followed him through the corridors, flanked by two imperial greatswords I had known for a few years, Hans and Werner. We had gotten drunk together on more than one occasion, and I was fond of them. 

I was glad they were by my side when the great doors made of cypress opened to the large hall beyond. I hadn't exactly expected a private affair, but there must have been three hundred court officials, courtiers, courtesans, and nobles in a rough crowd lining both sides, populating the pillars that held up the ceiling, adorned by an intricate mosaic of unrivaled beauty. It depicted Omilio Mondo, the last prince of Remas, defending the city before the hordes of araby. The fact the crusades launched against the men of the south were centuries apart from Mondo's rule was of little consequence. Before us, upon the dias, were the three triumverates watching with varying degrees of patience. On the left was Marco Telli, a short, slim man with dangerous eyes and a look of interest. On the right sat Imelda Mondo, a handsome woman with her dark hair tied high and full lips, who gazed between I and the chamberlain as if deciding which was better to use. In the center was Alfeo Romeo, a famed romantic but not without intelligence, if my quick scan revealed anything accurate about the colorfully dressed fellow. 

"Vi presento il ciambellano Hortiman Schulz del grande impero del nord, mio ​​onorato triumverato." The Duca Moretti said with a bow, stepping aside so that we may step forward. It was a simple introduction, one anyone could recognize even if they did not speak tilean. A few seconds went by, and I bumped the chamberlain with my staff, eliciting a surprised 'oh!' from the dwarf-like man. A small ripple of chuckles flowed around the room, and I willed myself not to sigh. Reaching into his coat, he produced the scroll Karl Franz himself had granted him, breaking the seal. He sneezed and dropped the scroll, but managed to snatch it back up from the ground and unroll it before him. 

"Greetings, honored friends of Remas. Your achievements are a marvel, known across the old world from mountain to coast. It is our hope we remain allies in these times of doubt and war, and we seek your assistance in keeping the Stretto Pass free of greenskins, and even worse, brettonians. We come here bearing gifts from the breadth of the Empire, to solidify the unity of our great states, and to ease the ailments of your people after a most horrible plague. One hundred thousand golden krowns, one hundred thousand pieces of silver, spices from caravans of far cathay, medicine for your sick, and three daggers forged of gromril, wrought by our staunch allies in the World's Edge Mountains to wear as badges of office and honor." 

The chamberlain spoke the words to the best degree he could, but I translated in tilean before the crowd and admittedly spoke over him, using the smoothest cadence I had, which is quite something I am told. (I also admit to adding that bit about the brettonians) As the small speech turned to a close, I produced the daggers myself, opening a ornate wooden case interlaced with velvet. Some in the crowd gasped and many peered around to see the three long knives on display. Of course, they were sheathed, but their hilts were carved from wutroth, and the rare wood alone cost nearly as much as the gromril in the blades. In my studies I am told the dwarfs prize that tree above all others, and small groves of the endangered trees are tended by dwarfen gardeners with the utmost care.

"So, your emperor seeks to buy our favor?" Marco Telli asked as Alfeo Romeo bade me come closer so they might gaze at the daggers more closely. As I moved forward, their honored pikemen lowered their weapons at me. I understood, it was mere protocol. I eyed the gleaming spear-points for but a moment, unconcerned as a man could be. "Does he think we the people of Remas are so cheap?" His courtiers lifted their heads to peer down at me past their noses in assistance to their princely meal-ticket.

Alfeo laughed, though to my relief he was laughing at his fellow and not at myself. "You would not trust a dog if you trained it yourself, my illustrious Prince Marco. Emperor Franz has given us a great gift, and only to guard a pass that we already wish to keep safe! Is that not right, erm... are you an official, honored sir? You are not of us, but your accent is wonderful." 

"He is a priest, and my, the rumors are true. If young men in the Empire look like you, I might move north when the year is up." Imelda added with a gleam in her eyes. "We thank you for the gifts. Prince Marco merely feels great grief for the suffering of our people. If I might ask, where did you learn to speak our tongue so well?"

I could not get a word in edgewise, my eyes rapidly moving between the three sovereigns as I became the object of discussion and not the very expensive daggers I held before them. I opened my mouth to speak, but on the last flick of my eyes I saw someone I really did not expect again. There, just beside the throne of Imelda Mondo, standing in a lovely dress that was enticingly low-cut, was the woman from the streets. 

[i]Why are you testing me?[/i] I asked Sigmar. [i]This is important for your empire, after all. Am I not doing what you wish!?[/i] 

"I spent some time at the University of Verezzo, my lords and lady. I am but a humble priest of my patron, Sigmar Heldenhammer, at your service for whatever you so desire." As I gave a bow, my eyes met the woman's, casting her a knowing look with the utterance of 'whatever you so desire.' I raised my head back up and smiled at the triumverate. " And if rumors have spread in the hour of my being here, what they say of Tilean tongues must be true." A chorus of giggles accompanied my statement, though I could tell Marco and his pets were not amused. I went back to business, scolding myself silently. "Would you allow our caravan to remain in your care for a short while to restock and rest from the long and weary road? My liege, the good chamberlain-" I gesticulated elaborately to Schulz behind me, who waved "-would wish to speak to your further on our ties of friendship, no doubt."