Subject: Fair words, fair words...
Author:
Posted on: 2015-06-04 11:44:00 UTC

Fair words as suit thy needs above all else. For the grain trade goes not through thy ports, milord Baron, but along the river-windings north through to the ships at Critta-Kalthin, the seat as was built for my Most Serene Lady, heroine of war that she do be. That seat, that shining city, star o' the cresting waves... it were built for thee, milord Baron, and by thee, and at thy own expense, and yet thou profit from the sea trade it brings not one bit, be it in the coin of her Ladyship's realm or yer own silver tharnis. An' it do rankle, milords, it do rankle when thy work rewards another an' not thyself.

Milord Baron Huinesoron, thy fortunes wane. Thy warrin' days are done, thy people scratch a livin' from bare rock like the Dunlendings of the Medellurth faith thou dost so espouse, and thou seekst solely to consolidate what power remains'ee at th'expense of my Lady. Spin it 'owsoever thou do wish, Eagle's Shadow; this course do take from one an' give to another, with no recompense for them unfortunates as are robbed by thy hand an' feather pen.

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"Yes, it seems the two of you are inseparable, even when [s]he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not."
-- Elrond Half-Elven, The Fellowship Of The Ring.

But yeah, my avatar is very much the Prince John to Baroness Iximaz's Richard I; while she's off kicking lumps out of various Marizu armies, someone's got to keep the barony ticking over and do the administrative drudgery. Might as well be the weird-looking, weirder-talking beggar woman who hangs around Castle Redwall like, in a fit of serendipity, a bad smell. =]

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