Open Chronicles Eternum High Council Meeting

[Kovshei]

The doors to the council chambers in the tundra citadel of the Eternum flew open and a walking corpse strode in.

“Right, where is everyone? Steve? Steve?”

The ancient Lich looked under the table, milky white eyes swiveling this way and that.

“Where did that little necromancer get to? Oh well.”

Without further adieu, he plopped down in one of the council chairs and waited for the others to join him.

 

[Méchanteau]

Méchanteau was not a tall man. Yet as he strode in, in all of his nine feet of height and clad in the finest brocades, the necromancer looked something akin to a God. One with power over death, as he was still very much a skeleton, but also over fortune and of course piracy — the silver gold-lined tricon was purposely set much too low just as to hide the axewound that had felled the giant. And of course Méchanteau had sent a giant's skeleton rather than his true body, his lack of a brain did not imply stupidity!

"LOOKING LIVELY TODAY, BOYS AND GHOULS!" he double quipped, earning a groan from all inside "And I come here today, in the flesh," another groan "to give you fine folk a message. Let us not dally then, my name is Méchanteau."

The shuffling, the dragging of seats, the whispers and flat-out side talking, it all stopped.

"Good. Be quiet. That is the short of my message. Sure, it may be a hearty guffaw to send your apprentices and thralls after me, but I do not share your amusement." a fine scroll rolled down his embroidered sleeve, he opened and showed it to all, it had the sigil of the Eternum and an invitation to join their ranks "In fact, it bores me to tears." he ripped it, loudly, wildly, and there were no groans to follow.

"I'm not interested in your little coven, and let me tell you why..." two skeletons that once were something not quite human strode in, pushing a blackboard on squeaking wheels. Méchanteau thanked his servants, as gaudily dressed as he. "GAZE UPON MY WORKS, AND DESPAIR!" he flipped the board, turning to his audience, pointing at his most daring artistic enterprise yet:

​

"Point number one, your city is in the middle of dead-shite nowhere, yet not far enough for the young kingdoms to be rid of your stench. They will come, and trust me, their living will outnumber your dead. Hell, they may as well be one nation united under their hatred for you! Point number two, two of your founders and 'utmost members' have the most servile and innocuous sounding names I have ever heard in my many thousands of years. If wit and fear are a necromancer's tools, how will you inspire such under the guidance of ones who sound like they peddle dung cakes for a living?" he waited for a laugh, a chortle. There was none. "Well, point three is that you are landlocked. So far away from the sea, and circled by cold wasteland and mountain for miles on end, how do you keep a trade route worth a damn? Portal stones? Dwarf tunnels? Ridiculous. Point four is that your timidity does not please Tabin-Ur. You can see him here in his serpent aspect, where he speaks in lies — as some of you heretics ought to know. Point number five, you have a disproportionate undead to dead to living ratio. Not enough corpses to go around, y'see? Nor essence. It's a disaster waiting to happen..."

"Case in point!" he tapped the big drawn smile at the center "put all of that into a proposition, shove it up as far as you are rectally allowed, dab it just over your lip, and you will have an idea of just how little esteem I hold you. Join you? I'd sooner have all of my treasures given away and my very bones ground into meal! Still, my goods and services — carrion, slaves, and even protection — are well worth the cost. I'm open to all buyers! Even your sorry lot of bonecasters and grave-turners." he pushed the board away "So, any questions?"

 

[TTamark]

Steve had come in to join the sudden meeting, apparently a pirate had an urgent matter to discuss. Luckily he had made it just in time, setting himself up against the wall. Steve absolutely loved every pun the man made. He cared little if he ripped the invitation, instead just enjoying the joke that accompanied the act. His amusement was only increased with the blackboard, and him trying to explain what was wrong with the Eternum. He could barely contain his laughter when mentioned how his name sounded like he peddled dung cakes. When Méchanteau was finally finished Steve quickly leapt on him asking for questions.

"Hi, yeah, Steve here, though I see you've heard of me, HAHA. But yeah I am a farmer, and I did peddle some dung for my dad for a time, glad you to noticed that, it shows that you might lack a brain, but not smarts, eh? Also, man bringing that stuff up really takes me back." Steve looked off for a moment reminiscing, "Sorry for getting a touch side tracked, but I'll address your points, you showing up here shows you wish for some dialogue, and deserves at least that much respect.

So for your first point seemed twofold the main thing I got was about our location, the threats we face from it. So we choose this location because we are aware of threats to our forms. This land was not among the most contested and would mean that attack would not be immediate, allowing time to set up. So besides attack what else threatens our forms? Time, as any sea dog worth their salt will tell you, 'Salt water does not agree with ones bones' what we have settled on in the future is a form of mummification that is possible in these cold temperatures to allow bodies to last for many more centuries. Lastly the land here is still warm enough to look after the living though.

Now you were right; though attack wasn't imminent, it is also is inevitable. Now we do have some plans in place that obviously I can not share with one who does not wish to be a part of us, but I can say with confidence that any significant assault will first have to come by sea, and in the end any war will be decided by how well one uses each soldier, tenfold in one with us.

Now I hope you don't mind if I skip over your second point because... I mean I can call a rose by any other name, but it doesn't make it any less sweat. So moving on to what could be called the second point you actually made, this is where my questions really begin: How did you get here? And how did you get the idea we are land locked? I have picked up from a few things that you, if not originate from, likely call Amol-Kalit home. Have you perhaps never seen the sea before, or was I just too quick with my comment on you having some smarts? The question on trade is still valid, we send and receive ships.

I grow tired so allow me to be brief on these last matters, and get to the meat and potatoes, HeeHee. Anyways I also want to expand our living population, and we will hopefully have time to talk on that matter in our council meeting in a few days, though we have much to discuss there.

Now to round this all out let us deal with the more important matter: you. If you fear that Tabin-Ur is not properly being worshiped even unknowingly then have you considered educating people? Setting up a church for him here? Or maybe your problem lies in how his worship is done. You don't like organized crime by the means of guilds: thieves, merchant, or pirate guilds? Let me tell you though sometimes there is a lot of honour among thieves, I have yet to find a merchant who would not sell his own mother for the right price.

So, are we perfect? Hell no! But from what I mostly heard you seem deeply confused, an idiot, or someone just looking for trouble. Though for that last one I guess it counts as all of the above, HAHAHA. So if you want to make a difference please by all means come to our meeting in a few days, but if not thank you for stopping by, and I hope you have luck with your business. Oh one last thing: if you will be leaving by ship I would recommend caution... and offloading all your slaves. Eternum ships tend to not be the most receptive to ships that aren't officially registered with a guild. They, how you say, haven't paid for their safe passage. You know how slaves are: terrible swimmers when chained below deck. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Wouldn't want to give us them for free.

 

[Méchanteau]

This one was a talker, wasn't he?

Must have helped with the dungs.

Méchanteau sat over the two other skeletons, who had laid on all fours to allow for it. Their skulls served as handrests, it was very nice.

'Salt water does not agree with one's bones'? Perhaps the captain's tricorn was too subtle. Other gems like 'attack wasn't imminent, it is also is inevitable' and that line to the effect of 'our more-than-ten-miles-away-from-shore city isn't landlocked' only deepened the lich's disdain for the man and his stupid, stupid name. "Roses don't sweat." he moaned with impatience, slumping against the arched backs of his servant as the subservient duo wriggled into a fainting couch of bone.

His interest peaked when Steve mentioned Amol-Kalit, land of Tabin-Ur, only to hundredfold at that funny little remark - whether the skeleton had ever seen the sea! Waves had torn him apart, waves at brought him together; it was amidst the white mad froth of a storm that he knew happiness, the clash of rain and thunder broken apart by cannonades and clashes of steel! The gold, the fame, how fickle they were compared to this madness, this exuberance! How glad Méchanteau was to have sailed it all, and to forever live to sail again and again. Only that made eternity bearable.

"It's over? Bellowing demons below, you could talk an immortal to death. " he stretched, rising from his seat, and its halves took the chance to dust his much-frilled coat "And make a happy, happy skeleton such as myself wish for further defleshment. Spare us your tongue for a bit now, Steve." he punctuated with a commanding and much insistent finger.

"I will take my person, god and slaves to other shores. Furthermore, I will be taking all of your ships to make up for the seventy gruelling years worth of inane tongue lashing I just had to withstand. Ta-ta~." he nodded, walking out with the skeletons in tow.