Saffron Skirmish III - Wave and Wake Briefing (Gyre planning) has started at Arx - Ward of House Thrax - DarkWater Reach - Captains Ward Room.

Harald takes a chair at the map table, turning a glance about to the others as they sit, but saying nothing. Helm and gauntlets are drawn off and set aside, as the Grimhall awaits the day's business.

Calypso makes the climb up to the top of the Darkwater Reach with Costas at her side. She steps in and nods to those present. Max in particular. She moves to take a seat at the table, folding her hands just so. Ready to listen!

Ford has joined the Central Map Table.

Calypso has joined the Central Map Table.

Costas has joined the Central Map Table.

Castiel has joined the Central Map Table.

Ford moves around the the table until he finds a suitable spot. The one that called out to him. That's the best way to find seats.

Jasher heads up the stairs to the ward room with a hand casually on the hilt of his cutlass, casting random glances behind him. Taking note of who's attending, he nods a greeting to those he knows and goes to get himself a glass - a very large glass - of rum before taking a seat at the central table.

Samantha makes her way in quietly, gaze dragging across the variety of faces. When she sees Reece, she offers an inclination of her head to the princess before taking a seat, expression serene and hands folded neatly in her lap as she gazes at the map.

Dagon has joined the Central Map Table.

A now familiar sight in the Captains Ward room, the black robed and masked figure of Halsim comes up into the room. The Inquisitor doesn't wear his badge for this one, at least... and he moves to stand near the edge of the group, his hands folding at his waist.

Castiel Thrax arrives and peers around at the gathering of so many of society's paragons, some of whom he recognizes by sight; the others he spares a bow for as the Prince walks slowly toward that central table to assume his seat. He's dressed simply for this occasion, having donned a heavy light gray woolen overcoat which he takes off to let it hang behind the chair.

Halsim has joined the Central Map Table.

Lianne follows the rest of the crowd up in silence, in no hurry to make it to the table. When she settles, it is with a particular primness which leaves her back stiff, her shoulders straight, her hands neatly settled in her lap as she considers the others in silence, no greetings offered even to those known.

Lianne has joined the Central Map Table.


Dominic accompanies his cup of coffee with a fat cigar which he lights and smokes at the table. He spews the smoke upward and away from the people. With his seat at the table, he skims over his own report and the information readily available before things really get started. He keeps his greeting to a polite nod and toothy smile.


Reese turns her attention Samantha, having a gentle and yet still silent smile of greeting for her. She takes a sip of her coffee, cradling in her small leather incased hands.

Guards not quite hovering (but present all the same), Belladonna makes her way up to the room along with the others, though she's kept herself wrapped in her cloak (hood down). The little Duchess moves to take up a position standing by a window rather than settling in somewhere in particular, attention half Out and half wandering over those other spresent.

    With there being one seat short at the central map table, Julea collects her old tricron hat from her lap and rises from hers, indicating for Abbas to take it and instead standing alongside the chair.

Costas pours himself into a seat beside the Lady General and settles one leather-wrapped palm on the pommel of his cutlass. His face is an illegible, indolent mask but his eyes calmly skim the room as more folk pile in. After completing the cirsuit he leans aside and murmurs a few low words to his commander.

Bianca slipped in quietly, finding a place to observe from a standing position aside the large table. That's what you get for being LATE BIANCA! NO CHAIRS!

Abbas arrives. The Thraxian Warlord looks around at those gathered. The scowl that his hidden in his beard is for everyone present. His dreadlocks spill over his silk shirt. His beard is braided. Murder hungry eyes stare and wait.

Ford spots Bianca's entrance and rises from his seat, offering his to the Archscholar.

Ford has left the Central Map Table.

Julea has left the Central Map Table.



There were two lofty ships
From Darkwater they came,
Row high, Row low,
And so sail we!
One was the Damnation,
T'other Enraptunator's Fame,
All a-reaven' through the Isles,
Of the Blue Saffron Sea!
The meeting is getting underway. There are comfortable chairs set out for everyone, and many of them around the map table have specific names. Commanders and captains in the fleet thats already ben assembled.

Max rises up from the table, to lift a hand to the group. "Thank you all for coming. It's an honor to me that so many people come when I have asked for help. I look around this room and I see the future of our compact, and I see the future of the House of Thrax." He says as he formats his thoughts.. He's a commander, not a public speaker. "I'm going to go over some basics about the situation, so everyone is on the same page."

Bianca dipped a grateful nod to Ford, slipping into the offered seat as her attention turned to Max.

Bianca has joined the Central Map Table.

Castiel hasn'

Dagon sits at the table, one hand holding up his chin, and the other tapping the map with an idle finger, lost in thought. The coffee by him has long gone cool, and while his eyes twist along the eddies of sea currents and islands that are picked out among the map, his gaze is somewhere far away altogether. The gaze of a dreamer, if only a hair more reserved. When Maximilian speaks, Dagon rises respectfully for the sake of etiquette and inclines his body in a little bow. "Count," he says, as a way of deference, here. He retakes his seat.


Dominic sets the document down and leans back to listen to Max. He bows his head respectfully when he begins to speak but otherwise is silent.


Abbas spots the seat Julea has vacated for him. The Thraxian goes and takes the seat. He sits with a grunt after Max's speech. There is little etiquette shown by the man. Dark eyes scan the table and its occupants. He remains quiet.

Reese keeps her coffee cradled in her gloved hands as she lifts her gaze to Max. She listens to the Count with quiet attention.

Abbas has joined the Central Map Table.

Castiel hasn't spoken a word since he first walked into the room but with Max's arrival he follows the other's motions, studying him briefly before his attention returns to the rest of those gathered here; several of them are his family and they are paid particular heed, but once the speech begins he focuses again on the introduction with one fist held under his chin in contemplation.

Driskell has joined the Darkwater Desk.

Rather than making an attempt to settle at the crowded table, Belladonna remains where she is, standing by a window. There's a tilt of her head for the words addressing the group, acknowledgment, but as seems to be her usual, she's not offering up any words. Just listening.

Max contines onward... "There are three heralds - three avatars. People use the terms interchangably, and they operate as the generals of the Archfeinds they serve. None of those names shall be said here today. Here in Arx, we are fighting Tolmar Brand, and forgive the presumption, but many mainlanders.. think that is the sum total of the war facing us." A pause as he sips his coffee.

"That is simply not the case. In the Deeps, the mad king of the Marin, te one called the Gyre, the Betrayer King, who sailed his entire kingdoms war fleet into the deeps to do battle, is stirring." He purses his lips.

"He did not do battle. Instead, the king of the Isles, bent his knee to the deamons of the Reckoning. He, his fleet, his captains and sailors all took that knee with him."

Alexander arrives, following Calliope.

Mischief The Monkey arrives, following Remi.

Ford folds his arms across his chest, keeping his coffee close by as he leans back against the stoop of one of the windows. Presumably near Belladonna.

Cassius Pravus, Duke of Setarco, clanks his way on into the ward room, dressed from neck to toe in gleaming platemail. He gives a quick look around the move, eyes lingering on Max just a moment, then he pivots and makes his way over towards Belladonna and Ford.

Reese keeps her attention on Max as he speaks, her expression now somber.

    Julea brings one of her hands up and touches finger tips briefly to the kraken that dangles from the choker about her neck, toying with it as she listens to Maximilian's introduction to the issue at hand. There's a few nods, and for anyone watching the young smith, it seems that the information he offers isn't new to her.

Halsim doesn't really reply until the end, the black robed man giving all the impression of a statue at first. When Max starts to speak though... "This is the first I've heard of the Gyre actually being of Marin. Where's the evidence of this?"

Calypso has left the Central Map Table.

Calypso has joined the Central Map Table.

Maximilian exhales, setting his coffee down. "The Hirophant, a shaman of amazing power, I presume, laid a curse upon that King for his betrayal. The specifics are unknown to me, and I am a man of practicalities anyway, so they don't matter to me. They matter to those who have a mind for such things." HE gestures to Domiminic on that note. "The effects of that curse, bind him to the Deeps - that mire and murk to which few venture and fewer return. It bound he and his fleet, preventing them from returning to the land, to the isles, until such time as... Well, fuck it." He syas, then takes a page of notes from Driskell...

""And thus the Hierophant so spake to the Great Betrayer, the King who had bent the knee to the horde and surrendered himself to their Despite. 'Wail, Betrayer, and gnash thy teeth, for your lands are forbidden to you! Never shall you set a foot upon your homeland until the blood and kin you have betrayed bids you to return! You are banished to the waves, and only the beasts of the sea and those who sail upon it shall be your subjects! Woe unto you, Betrayer!'"

Max looks to the others, when he's done reading. "Thats more or less the effects of his curse. Except theres a bit in there thats not mentioned."

As per his usual social graces or lack there of Remi was late to arrive, The man looking like little more than some common sailor as he steps into the ward room smelling of salt and haze. The man's gaze drifting slowly over the room before giving Maximilian a small nod as he moves to settle in listening to the man relaying the information.

Now and then Castiel steals looks at Julea as if he's trying to decide something but he does pay attention to the talk about the Gyre, even though little of what's said so far seems news to the man. He gives a glance at Halsim though and nods when he asks his question. "I can give you more proof after this if you wish." he murmurs. "But it appears it's correct. Even if it sounds like what Driskell would come up with when he's well in his drinks, it's correct."

"Theres plenty of evidence, Harald - I dont' have a full presentation on that here. I'm not a schollar, but speak to Bianca. I think she's got everything I've provided."

Maximilian said that.

Lianne's dark brows perk as Max speaks of heralds, of archfiends, eyes narrowing faintly as that train of thought goes nowhere in particular. Drawing a deep breath, she grimaces faintly and casts her evergreen attention about at those asking and answering questions.

Calliope's entrance is a bit belated, she's looking a little harried. A pause at the back of the room, near the door, and her gaze scans those gathered, looking for safe haven perhaps. And then she sees her Uncle, moving towards him slowly, trying not to draw attention. She's also listening to Max, frowning a bit at the words as she moves slowly.

    "It is as he says. I have notes too on it. I shall add them to the Thrax archives soon." Julea speaks up as well as she lowers her hat down to set upon her pack on the ground and instead drawing out a journal from a side pocket. Opening it up to a book marked page she quickly scans the script within and then pulls it up against her chest, eyes briefly settling upon Castiel.

Bianca inclined her head as her name was mentioned, gaze settling on Halsim in further indication of confirming Max's words as well as silent invitation before attention turned back to the Count.

Belladonna smiles when her husband arrives, turning towards him. She reaches out to pat one plate covered arm as he joins her and Ford at the window, then turns her attention back to Max. Something in the words have her glancing towards Lianne, and she nods before she refocuses back on Max.

"That'd be lovely. I've been interested in finding out more about this, but apparently people have been busy around me and have neglected to keep me informed." Halsim gives in a nod.


The Thraxian prince raises his coffee cup to acknowledge Max's remark before settling back down on his seat. Pulling a journal from his belongings, Dominic begins to take note of what Maximilian is saying, nodding to the man as his mind begins to formulate theories. He says in a heavy croak of a voice, "The evidence is in the tome Heroes of Thrax."


Calypso has left the Central Map Table.

Calypso has joined the Central Map Table.

It is a rare occasion Castiel seems uncomfortable with something but Julea's stare does it for him, causing the Thrax merchant-Prince to shift in his seat even though he addresses her anyway. "They are already there. It is where I found the notes in the first place." he remarks, tapping his fingertips against the table afterwards without anything else to add, at least to her.

Jasher nods here and there as he listens and drinks his rum. "It's most likely that he serves Mangata's dark reflection." he notes, adding his own little contribution. "There's mention of that one scattered around in various places."

Carissa, a Malvici bodyguard arrives, following Eirene.

The words run over Dagon without etching much from his face, except a small grimace at the mention of 'blood and kin'. He picks up his coffee and takes a drink; only to have that frown deepen. He sits it down, blanching at the cold liquid. Nothing to be done over that. His gaze picks out Halsim, focusing on him with a faint narrowing of those blue eyes -- but soon enough he's back to staring at the map while he listens.

It seems Samantha is content, for the moment, to simply sit and listen. Her contribution to this is minimal, at least for the moment. Her gaze seems momentarily affixed on Julea, before returning her full attention to Max.

Ford sways his coffee mug as the discussion seems to...sidetrack, "Let's not get caught up in semantics. There are more pressing issues at hand."

"I've been busy." Says Max without any hint of appology to Halsim. "So for the last... half year?" Max asks, looking to Abbas, then to CAllypso... "The saffron powers and the House of thrax have been engaged in a slow boil war against the rising of the Gyre. He's trapped, and thats damned fucking good for us. Because as almost overwhelming as the power of the pirates, shavs and abandoned that have returned to his fealty, honoring old oaths that have not failed, those who take new oaths for power or coin is? AS powerful as THOSE factors are and as hard as we fight them?" He asks, brows narrowing.

"We have not yet seen his -true- fleet. Here in ARx, the army coming at us, and this is not to at all deny that armies power... but that army is mostly shavs and abandoned with some wierd things thrown in."

Eirene enters with a medical smell hanging about her instead of an alcoholic one. Late but it appears she has been working, her hands slightly discolored from whatever she has been working on. She slides closer to familiar faces and listens intently to get caught up.

Maximilian explains then the cause of his concern. "The battle in the Saffron, if we do not contain the Gyre now? Will be the inverse. A fleet of deamon ships, tainted sailors and herald at the helm... with some -shavs- thrown in."

Ariel quietly listens to all of those speaking, her gaze flitting from person to person. A brief sip of her glass with rum is taken.

"Is anyone unclear on this concept?" Asks Max, picking up his cup once more.

"Might I ask a stupid mountain man question?" Cassius grumbles out. He's gotten himself next to Belladonna, and reaches out an un-covered hand to capture hers. "When you say there's a fleet out in the Deep, what the fuck is out there? Just a lot of boats floating in open ocean? Or is there land?

Abbas does not answer or speak. He returns the look from Max. The man is well acquainted with the situation at hand. A head turns to regard Julea who stands just off to the side and behind him. The Warlord turns back to the table when the mountain man asks the question. He waits for the repsonse.

Calliope's head inclines to Harald as she reaches his side, and she just settles to stand there calmly. Her gaze though scans the room, pausing on Dagon, a curious look on her face. And then it moves on, a brief nod given to Castiel, and then her attention returns fully to Max, listening again.

Harald sits silent and stonefaced, glancing aside to briefly acknowledge Calliope's approach, but adds no clamor to the room.

"I am." Castiel says, finally raising his voice. "Some here - the learned, the scholars - might have more information on the matter, but I am unclear on one thing." the merchant calls out to the gathering in a voice well meant for public addresses like this. "We seem to know the Gyre has this army of demons and tainted men, vast and unfathomable. Why bother with the shavs?" he asks, directing the question to Max even though it's clear he means for it to be wider. "Why not bring them? Do we know? Is this just softening us? Is there something else at work that we are aware of?"

Reese sucks in a soft breath of concern at Max's words. She loses interest in her coffee, setting it upon the table. When Cassius speaks, she looks in his direction, now having a nod of silent greeting for her cousin and his wife. The warrior princess then turns to Max, awaiting the answer. Her expression remains somber.

"The Heralds are not working together. All have different goals, depending on which reflection they follow." Jasher answers.

Remi finally breaks his silence offering up, "Fuck the old texts and semantics seems we need to break the bastards while we got the chance and turn the waters read with their fucking blood you ask me.." The man glancing towards Cassius hearing his question.

Maximilian glances at Cassius... "Good question. There are resources flowing into the deeps from his vassals. We've been choking them off. Money, food, such as the like... and I would wager there is a realm of some sort there. But none have ever been able to survey it. There are a half hundred million islands in the Saffron, and the deeps must too, have such islands."

Then to Castiel... "Because he's a king. Because he wants his kingdom back. He's not here to kill us - no, that would be counteractive to his point. He wants to rule us. DOn't mistake my words - he ABSOLUTELY wants to kill us and rule as a deamon lord... You get what I am saying. The point here, is the vassals reinforce his vision of himself as King of the Isles. And his... let us call it... Deamonfleet... is as bound as he is."

"But they do seem to have similar modes of operation in terms of how they pursue their plans." remarks Samantha absently.

    "They are sort of working together, in that they are providing some aid." Julea speaks up then, eyes going to Max. "Though not directly offering anything too significant. They are still .. allies of a kind."

Ford slowly turns his head towards Remi, letting out a sigh.

Bianca glanced briefly to Remi at his interjection, but continued to remain silent. Her gaze simply ping-ponged between speakers.

"There's an Eye, and a Maw," Dagon tells Cassius quietly, his gaze momentarily ticking to the mirror in the conference room. It averts, just as suddenly -- fixating on Remi. Dagon's lips curl into a dry smile. "If only."

Eirene arches her eyebrows, asking dryly, "Are we really discussing motivation? Seriously? They want us dead or conquered, same fucking thing in the end." She folds her arms over her chest, scowling.

Castiel's head dips. "Very well." he says after Max gives his answer. "It sounds like he likes to toy with his food. Perhaps we need to make arrangements that he chokes on it, then." The Thraxian Prince makes a gesture though, indicating he is done with his line of questioning as he sinks into some thought.

"I have a butter knife, I'll get you a dinghy," Belladonna glances Remi's way for the mild words she speaks, studying him for a moment after her offer is made before she glances back in Max's direction.

Subtly, Costas glances across the table to Remi and gives the man a commiserating smirk.

"For my part, I'm not nearly as worried about the Abandoned and the mercenaries and the ships... as much as I am worried about the giant sea creature that likes to eat ships. Do we know the connection there with the Kraken, or if the Gyre actually has anything to do with it?" Halsim continues to question.

"So that..." Says Maximilian, done taking questions for the moment and surpressing a snicker for Belladonna's comment... "Is where the Heirs of Marin come in. As many of you know, Ianthe of the Truesworn, she uh... declared herself a princess of the House Marin, and showed up with a few ships of assholes to back that claim."

Maximilian looks to Halsim. "Julea got a message delivered by a fucking squid." Says Maximilian with a firm conviction. "COmmand. Over the Beasts. Of the Sea."

Maximilian holds up his hands, like, 2 feet a part. "Message by Squid."

"That must've been fun." Halsim quips, and goes silent.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Samantha before departing.

    Julea's lips part, and then promptly close again. She has nothing to say, for once, and remains mute just behind the Thraxian Warlord.

Eirene throws her hands in the air, turns around in frustration, and just shakes her head as she turns back. "Sure. I'll believe it. Seen weirder."

"If I might make a suggestion that if there are further questions about the legitimacy of the claims made in this meeting, they be held until afterwards. Everything being spoken of has proof to back it up, and bickering about the validity of the information takes away from our time spent planning," Belladonna does not actually stay quiet for once, glancing over those assembled without looking to anyone in particular. And then there's an abrupt laugh and she sends a Look at Cassius before she turns to lean in, murmur to him quietly.

The words from Belladona have Remi's eyes focusing upon the woman as his scarred right brow lifts, "Shouldn' ya be off poisioning someone about now? Besides got m'own ship. Matter of fact think I got it off someone wanting to trade with your lot." Amusement dancing in his gaze as mischief shows in his smile, The man moving closer to the mirror within the room glancing towards it. Looking at the reflection within.

"Enough!" Says Max, his voice not rising, but taking a firm tone.


At the message, Dominic turns his gaze on to Julea for a moment before shifting on his seat and taking a drink of more coffee. He glances up, taking another toke from his cigar.


Castiel looks at Belladonna and nods. "Aye, it seems we need to start thinking what to do from here, not start debating what myth is true and which one isn't. That's a question for the scribes and the bards - we have sailors here, and commanders, and warlords." He looks to Max without pausing when he interrupts others, but offers a smirk. "I take it you didn't invite us here for merely a briefing. What is proposed?"

Maximilian proeeds onward. "Focus people. Theres a lot to cover. Keep your side flirtations for your own time." Says Maximilian as he exhales. "So. He has three children, the gyre. Three we know of. Which is in its way good. It confirms he's still human enough to breed. That means he's still human enough to -bleed-. But the purpose of the children is clear. To break his bonds. To release, to unleash him, upon the Saffron."

"None of them that I'm aware of are willing to do that. Of course, Ianthe sounds suspect." Samantha muses. "Does it only require one, or all three?"

    "Also to stop him." Julea appends to Maximilian's words, keeping her own fairly brief and to the point.

Belladonna rolls her eyes at Cassius and shakes her head at him; if she even registers Remi's response, there's no indication of it. Max's words have her lifting an eyebrow his way, and then more information is being shared and she settles back to being attentive.

Darrow steps in to the ward room, shutting the portal behind himself. A scowl locked onto his strict, sober features, he presses starkly through the press of those present in the briefing to take a position, standing, by the Count. His eyes tick past the majority of those present, though not wasting time noting individuals, a singular nod is given the group gathered by the solemn, grim-appearing knight. Maximilian, though, gets a direct tick of his head. "Cousin."

The Knight of Sorrow then folds his arms, grimly watching the assembled, presumeably anti-Gyre activists present.

Octavia comes up the stairs with her cloak wrapped around her, into what certainly sounds like petty bullshit that she has about zero time for. "I trust you're all quite done sniping at each other?"

"Should his daugthters invite him back and forgive him? We are franky fucked. Fucked -badly- so we are right now, we're focusing on not letting that happen. One Heir of Marin sits in this room. One is within the city with trusted people. The third is Inanthe, and she.." he pauses now, glancing at the compass on the table. "Shes... not who she was. She's the wildcard."

Maximilian said that.

Bianca glanced briefly to Octavia's arrival and then back to Max. "When was the last time Ianthe was actually seen?"

Cassius murmurs to Belladonna, and whatever she's rolling her eyes about, he seems quite insistent upon. But she's back to focusing, and so he gives a faint sigh, and turns his eyes back to the gathering. He listens, he considers, and then he's murmuring to Bella once more.

"Oh." The syllable escapes Lianne's lips unbidden, her gaze unfocused, thoughts turned inward. Whatever everyone else is discussing, she's rather suddenly got other things to consider.

Halsim gets a look from Halsim, but the black, blank mask he wears does nothing to give away his expression, before he looks to the others. "After the Abandoned came to the city. I lost track of her after. No trace."

Reese keeps her silence, but her attention is still quite focused on the matter at hand.

"Do we know what happens if these daughters are dead?" Ford asks as an aside. Contingency. Sorry Julea.

"That would explain why he wants them living." Castiel mutters. "Do all of them need to forgive him at the same time? What's the actual condition, here?" The left side of his mouth splits into a distasteful grin. "Fucking magic. This is stuff we should be ranting about in our cups to make youngsters piss their pants, not part of battle plans."

"One- are these daughters still human too? And two- do you suspect she went into hiding or was taken into custody or kidnapped?" Eirene unfolds her arms to unfasten the buttons of her heavy campaign coat. Too warm in here.

"So we assume she's lost, then, but you haven't answered Marquessa Deepwood's question," Octavia notes. "Do we know how many of them it takes? IF we have two, can we control him?"

Samantha replies to Ford, mild as milk, "That's not happening."

    "Try it." Julea suggests to Ford, eyeing him a moment. "But it is also said that the daughters have to stop the heralds. Not just the Gyre, but the others too."

Looking to Ford, Max says simply... "Off the table." As firm as keel oak.

Ford shrugs. Someone had to ask.

"Run, Blood of Kings," Lianne murmurs amid everyone else's cross-chatter. "Flee far from their sight, lest the land perish, all lost to blight." Her gaze dips to the table briefly before she--rather gingerly--gets to her feet, takes a second to breathe, then crosses toward Belladonna and Cassius.

Lianne has left the Central Map Table.

"All I can say is that she disappeared without a single clue after they landed. Anything else is speculation." Halsim replies to Eirene.

"Max, entertain it," Octavia replies firmly. "We've lost track of one. For all we know now, she's dead. What happens then?"

Maximilian then holds up a hand. "These questions are good - and I like em - but they are not for me. They are for the schollars or the heirs themselves. I'm ging to move forward on the ACTIONABLE parts."

    "We do not yet know if it takes one, or all of us. That's still an unknown. We can't control the Gyre. We have some control over his Kraken Kin. But his is stronger." Julea answers Samantha, with a nod to Octavia.

Dagon's gaze focuses on Maximilian, as if waiting for something. When it's not forthcoming, he breathes out a collective sigh of relief -- his emotions written so plainly on his face that it's child's play to read him. Honor and subtleties do not often mix, and Dagon is the prime example. "Serva-- or... no, you're a servant, correct?" Dagon's gesturing to a former thrall in the corner, a smile twitching his lips. He hands them his cold cup of coffee, with an imploring: "Please?"

While the servant fixes up Dagon a new cup of coffee, the Duke's eyes slip towards all the questions, and then to Max. He looks pityingly to the poor Count -- subject to all the interrogations.


Dominic places his cup down on the table forcing him to lean forward with a grunt. He takes a hard inhale of cigar and expels the smoke to the floor, his head hanging low as he falls for a moment in thought, "Death does not necessary prevent you from forgiving or cursing someone."
His words are quiet and mostly to himself.


Darrow sweeps his pale blue eyes past the group, settling on Bianca. "As the Inquisitor, the same for myself. I exchanged correspondences with her shortly afterwards. Then - no trace." His frown deepens. "Though someone...knows more than they are letting on. And they know that I was looking for her."

"The daughters have to stop the Heralds?" Calliope asks, a strange expression on her face. The look she gives Julea is assessing, but then she takes a breath and settles back into her relaxed posture, leaning to say something to her Uncle softly.

Bianca's gaze turned to Julea, "Is this a prophecy regarding the daughters of the Gyre? That they will take up arms against the Haralds?" She asked in an inquisitive tone, then to both Darrow and Halsim, "The same with my interactions with her when she returned to Arx."

Calypso turns a steely gaze around the table when everyone seems to be talking about this that and the other thing. As Max calls attention back, she focuses in on him.

Belladonna's eyes settle on Octavia, distaste clear in her expression for a moment. She shakes her head, the expression melting away for a welcoming smile as Lianne approaches. She's listening to the rest of the conversation as it goes on, but she's not saying anything further to the general room for the time being.

Remi's head tilts looking to Octavia, "Ya would want to try and control the fuck tha' wants to bleed us and take our isles, take our waters and our homes? Yeah no way tha' will end badly.." His head gives a small shake as he looks to the woman before settling his gaze on Max. "I have busines at Maelstrom soon, Can see if we have anything there tha' might allow bit of insight into wha' we might find in the deeps. But figuring out wha' is just rum induced an true might be bit hard.."

    "Yes, there's a song. It talks about daughters of -all- the heralds. And their part in stoppign them. It's a part. And we don't know the how or why or what. And I'm sure there's more involved in it." Julea says, eyes meeting Calliope's for a moment, and then shifting over to Bianca. "I can talk about it after if anyone is interested." She adds, nodding for Maximilian to continue.

Maximilian calls out once more - letting his voice rise this time... "Attention to fucken orders!"

The voice is strong, firm and commanding. "AGain - these are good questions and I want you asking them. When this meeting is done - to the people I've selected, who can ANSWER them. This is a breifing. So we keep it BREIF."

Maximilian gestures then to the map on the table in front of them. "So lets move on to the parts we can move on. The Actionable Intel we -do- have."

Octavia looks at Remi with no emotion in her face. "Preventing him from doing what he wants /is/ control, Prince. I don't mean to make him a supernatural puppet."

Samantha's eyes rivet onto Julea with an almost audible sound, and with great effort, rips her gaze away. Focus is brought by sheer will.

Darrow has joined the Central Map Table.

Harald regards Calliope, sidelong at her low words. A small nod, and slow turn of his head back to the table.

Cassius watches the choas with idle curiosity, his eyes trailing this way and that. When Lianne approaches, however, his gaze is upon her.

Halsim leans back into his chair, his notebook finally coming out as a messenger appears and gives him a letter.

Costas slips the hip-flask he's been nipping from back into his long-coat as Max brings the meeting back round to order. The captain's attention is given fully to the Count, though a faintly amused tug at the edge of his lips perhaps betrays some doubt as to how long he supposes decorum will last.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Halsim before departing.

Eirene waits patiently with her stance wide and her hands resting in the small of her back, a soldier's resting stance. Her eyebrows raise slightly but the medic is otherwise stoic.

:clears his throat, "Alright." Abbas stands from the table and jabs a finger toward the map, "Enough with the shit. Let's talk about axe in mitts and how we apply it to the neck of the gore. Those who don't want to wade in the blood and coin of the devil fucks can whisper sweet nothings endlessly to each other later." The Warlord continues, "I'll be taking the Thraxian fleet and reaving settlements and those who supply the Gyre and his people." His voice is heavy and gravel filled. The inked butcher grunts, "I will be taking a large portion of the fleet for this action. And I shall lead it personally."

Maximilian exhales then, composing his thoughts. "Two major problems face is, in facing the gyre. The first is his growing vassal network, his preying on our ships to fund his mercenary network of shavs. That has to be curtailed immediately and we've been working on that, on a smaller scale than what we are going to be ding now."

t"The second, is our lack of intelligence on the Gyre's capability, his fleet and his unseen operatives."

"Thats what Operation 13 Hammers is about. It's about us slamming his vassal network, turning what we can and slaughtering the rest. If they bend a knee to the dark king, they have ONE chance to stand up and join we men of light. We give them Julea, as away to honor oaths to the HOUSE of Marin without honoring the Betrayer. If they do not, Then our war fleet falls on them and we remove them from the fucking board." he says, knocking a markert off the table.

"This is going to be a full press across every area of the Saffron we can hit. Recruitment, removal, disruption."

Max, an emperor tamarin arrives, delivering a message to Maximilian before departing.

"Count Darkwater. I'm sorry to say this... but we need to pause this for a moment. Something just came up that might be related to this. Can we speak in private?" Halsim looks to Max.

Maximilian glances at Halsim... "No. We finish this planning now and if we need to abort, we do, but we can speak when its over."

"This will probably directly effect this planning." Haplim replies.

Halsim gets up and moves off to the side, starting to write a letter back. "I'll keep up. Go ahead, then."

Belladonna, talking quietly with Lianne and Cassius, frowns thoughtfully. Oh, so thoughtfully. That little brain is working overtime. "Oh!" It's quiet, but it's perhaps still a bit louder than she intended, audible beyond just the pair. She nods quickly, sends an apologetic glance around, and then continues speaking more quietly again.

Darrow gestures to Halsim. "I can step out and let the Count continue the briefing. We can talk outside."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Julea before departing.

Dagon's gaze flickers to Abbas, rolling over the man's face for a thoughtful moment. The servant breaks him from it, by returning a steamy cup of coffee. The duke greets it with a smile, and a little smile. "Thank you," he murmurs to the servant, before they move off to the side.

Castiel's eyes are dark at the sight of chaos around him although when Abbas speaks up he does lift a hand at his cousin to smile at him with some pride. "Hear hear." he tells the Warlord before he releases a sigh. When Halsim fails to interrupt the proceedings he studies him though with a more active interest for at least a few moments before the cacophony resumes itself again.

Dagon's gaze flickers to Abbas, rolling over the man's face for a thoughtful moment. The servant breaks him from it, by returning a steamy cup of coffee. The duke greets it with a smile, and a little smile. "Thank you," he murmurs to the servant, before they move off to the side.

    Julea too is passed a note, but she doesn't dare read it, instead tucking it away as she listens to first Abbas and then Max speak. Both are given a quick nod, but she offers nothing to the topic herself.

"So. Moving along." Says Maximilian. "This operation has five main componants. THere's Disruption. There's Defense. Theres Diplomacy. The three big D's. Then there's Logistics and Intelligence."

"Disruption is broken into several componants. Overall command is mine. Abbas Thrax is my second in command. Anti-ship raiding is under the command of Costas Vodduce. Shore operations are under command of Calypso Malvici. Scouting and recon, Ford Kennex. A joint operations group will be headed by myself and Abbas Thrax. This is the fist."

Lianne smiles faintly at Belladonna's oh, at the soft words which follow. She nods her agreement, but adds nothing more to the discussion for the moment, eyes back upon the business at the table, looking a smidge more content now that she's escaped the choppier waters.


Dominic sits back to listen to the plan he was familiar with. His gaze jumps between those mentioned, if they were here, nodding to them before returning to listen to Max.


Reese reaches for her coffee once again and her silence continues to remain intact. The information given so far doesn't seem to surprise her. It is possible that she knew much of this already or perhaps she is just has a rather calm nature. As Max gets to the heart of the plan, she lifts her gaze to him, nodding silently to him.

Calypso has left the Central Map Table.

Calypso has joined the Central Map Table.

Eirene pulls a journal out and starts taking notes on the various battle groups. She glances at those names and nods, a silent approval of agreement. The medic doesn't comment herself but joys a few notes.

"Diplomacy is being headed up by Margot Tyde, with Julea Sanguine as her aide. There's large contingent of diplomats going ith her. Harald is among them, to represent, silently, the stick." Says Maximilian. "DEfense is being headed by Dominic Thrax, our resident man of the occult. His division is tasked with finding was to hold the Gyre, his influence and his magic at bay."

"Diplomacy?" Dagon wonders quietly of Julea with a little smirk. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Harald has said nothing aloud thus far, and doesn't begin now.

Bianca turned eyes more fully on the mentioned Dominic, mental note made!

"Intel is being headed up by Juliet, whom I wish was here, but her duties..." And sleep schedule. "have her away at the moment. Her division will sweep in behind disruption and diplomacy, and scour for any leads, any information that will inform our steps going forward."

Costas nods smartly to Max when his role is indicated, and reaches into the abyss-black coat hung from his shoulders. A leather folio is produced and laid out on the table before him, which when folded upon shows to be full of notes and nautical charts.

    Julea puts on an excessively sweet smile and attempts to bat her lashes at Dagon, but it doesn't really work and probably looks a touch silly. "I can be diplomatic if I fuckin' want to be." She points out. "Or rather my knife can. She's very diplomatic."


The prince offers a wave to those present, identifying himself to the room before turning back to Max to say, "With your blessing I would like to assist in the disruption. I have my two hulks here near Arx and can fit them with catapults if not, I am slow but can serve as support out at sea; medical, mechanical, you name it." He clears his throat and says to the others, "My dogs are also available..."


"Logistids is headed by Octavia Kennex. Her goal is to fuel our war machine and keep our ships on the waves, our men wiht swords in hand, our supplies flowing. We need every thing functioning with minimal downtime. Nothing here can be overlooked. I have kids in Darkwater watch diging up old midden heaps for metal and nails. Because its metal we don't have to mine."

Calliope smiles at Harald, and then turns her gaze to Dominic. It looks like thoughts are churning there, considering the Thraxian Prince. Until her gaze turns back to Max.

*logistics.*

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Halsim before departing.

Maximilian steps back now... "And yes. Now, if the division heads could introduce themselves, that is appropriate."

Eirene aha's softly. Something just clicked in place. She nods to Max at mention of Octavia.

Halsim takes another messenger... then begins to write yet another out.

Maximilian steps closer to halsim as the others introduce themselves.

Ariel explains "I intend to try to use my charm to sway others to help with these actions."

"Of course, Miss Sanguine," Dagon murmurs, with a gentle incline of his head -- that smile still maintained. "Still, I'm glad that my wife is in the company of an accomplished fighter."

Calypso rises from her seat and glances around the table. "General Calypso Malvici." She states her name for those who may not know her. "I will be commanding the Shore Operations. This will consist of any land-based actions needed. Townships and villages that need to be broken. If any of you is especially equipped for land-based operations. Come to me and we will find you work in this."

"I can think of few finer commanders for land operations. You have my full confidence." Says Maximilian, of Calypos's introduction.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Halsim before departing.

Abbas comments, "I could use the hulks with me for settlements, capture of prisoners (thralls?), merchant bastards for ransom, and for the catapults." The Warlord mentions briefly.

    Julea directs a broad grin Dagon's way, and accompanies the expression with a quick thumbs up. She then returns her hand to the journal she holds against her chest. "I'll keep her safe." She promises the Duke.

Belladonna, still chatting with the other Pravus quietly, goes rather abruptly pale. She swallows, says something quietly to the pair of them, then turns her attention back to the conversation at large.


Dominic nods to Max and clears his throat as he turns his seat to look around. A cigar between two fingers in one hand and a coffee mug in the other, "Prince Dominic Thrax, I will be heading defense, primarily occult defense. Blessed by Petrichor, I intend to work the druid's ward on our ships and HQ, and use my time as Princess Drea's student to negotiate with the spirits to power them. I hope with the assistance of Arcscholar Bianca and Lady Lianne we can uncover more details about the situation at hand, information that I can then use proactively. My dogs have a hunger for the Silence and can serve as physical defense or guards, my ships are massive to fit medical and well-decks and one has been refitted as a prison ship. All available for the mission."


"Don't make promises. I'll have to hold you to them," Dagon tells Julea quietly, before his attentions turns to those introducing themselves around the table. He takes a long, fortifying sip of coffee.


Dominic turns to Abbas, "You have them."


Cassius' attention turns to Dominic, and he blinks a few times, staring at the man, considering this information that is, quite obviously, new to the duke.

Eirene glances at Dominic at mention of the medical ships, making a note for later to discuss it.

Eirene either ignored the other part or decided not to care.

Remi remains silent as people make their introductions and the heads go over what they will be arranging and overseeing. The man remaining silent as he leans against the wall near the mirror.

Harald turns a sidelong eye to the exchange between Dagon and Julea, giving a low wordless grunt, before he sits back to await the further introductions with scowling patience.

Ariel quietly sips upon her rum as she listens to everyone doing their plans. Her attention flitting from person to person as they speak.

Lianne looks up from the quiet conversation she's maintaining with her duchess and duke as Dominic speaks. When her name is mentioned, the raven-tressed lady bows her head in acknowledgement of her intended assistance. She tries to keep her attention there, on the matter at hand, but her attention strays back to Belladonna, the blonde given curious consideration before she nods again.

Octavia clicks her tongue against her teeth. "I'm not sure there's much to introduce," she muses. "Lady Octavia Kennex. I will be coordinating the weapons, personnel, healers, repairs, and supplies, as well as making sure they arrive where they're needed when they're needed. If we haven't spoken already and you have something to contribute, let me know so that it can be part of the battle plan."

"I want." Says Maximilian then.. "To make a thank you."

He turns to Belladonna... "Belladonna pravus and her allies... her vassals, have contributed no less than two thirds of their whole fleet to this endevour. We have, with her help, assembled the largest fleet afloat that I can find any record of. I am comfortable saying this is the largest single joint action on the waves that has taken place. I wish I could tell you that it outnumbers its enemy."

"But it does not."

Maximilian turns to Belladonna.

Samantha looks over at Octavia, offering the woman a faint nod and smile. But she's not in charge of anything, really. Why she's here may be a mystery, but one for the present, remains in the dark.

Calliope's head tilts as she listens to Dominic, curiously attentive to his words. She stays in her spot, glance turning to Octavia as she speaks, inclining her head to the other woman. And then her gaze turns back to Maximillian, frowning slightly at the last.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Halsim before departing.

Remaining leaned against the window near the Pravus Party, Ford speaks up, "Ford Kennex, I'm heading up the recon and scouting efforts. In this campaign we're pushing further into the Saffron than we ever have before, we're on the watch for any ships flying the Gyre flag, we're tracking their movements, and seeing if we can't establish a point of origin for them. Map building through process of elimination, but I only have so many ships. So if you, your lieges, or vassals have ships that could potentially serve this effort. Small, fast, come to me. We can work something out."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Ford before departing.

"I have full confidence in Ford and his sister Octavia. Most of Darkwaters fleet -are- scouts and Skirmishers. So he will be command of much of -my- force." Says MAximilian.

Cassius is continuing murmuring as the meeting goes past them, even as he stares at Dominic. Then comes talk of Pravus and it's fleet. Cassius turns his gaze onto Max, and squints at the man.

Calypso gestures towards Max after he speaks up about the vessels provided. "Given the increased need for this task to be completed and swiftly. In solidarity with my Lycean allies, I an devoting Two-Thirds of Southports ships to this cause." She gives a nods towards Belladonna and then another glance to Max.

Finally, Halsim moves back to the table, his mask doing nothing to muffle his long sigh as he sits again.

Maximilian lifts his cup then, to Calypso, in salute. "We grow ever stronger with cooperation and alliance. Darkwater thanks Southport."

When she is mentioned, Belladonna turns from her little conference, giving a bow of her head to the room at large. "You are welcome, Count Darkwater," she speaks up, letting her voice carry, words spoken so very clearly. "This is a thing that concerns us all. It is heartening to see the coordination that is being done to these ends." Calypso's words have her tilting her head that way, and then she looks back to Cassius and Lianne, nodding her head again to the quiet words being spoken.

Maximilian glances your way to see if you want to say a few words before he continues onward.

    "Julea S-" Julea can't quite get that out, and she pauses just for a second, before finishing with, "Marin. I will be securing the aid of one of the Pirate Lords that rules a fortification of a large number of abandoned in the Saffron Chain, through marriage. And after that, others. We'll rally as many as we can to the Thrax, and thus further expand our already large fleet. Because, as large as it is, it is not enough. It is no way near enough, yet."

Sasha, a smoke-gray mountain lion arrives, following Tristram.

The meeting is not quite winding down, but it's in the lull where people get to introduce themselves and leadership has been assigned. Max is standing to the side with a cup of coffee in one hand.

Costas finally hauls himself up from his seat, having waited for all the nobles to introduce themselves first. "Some of you know me better than others." Stormblue eyes sweep the room as he speaks, once or twice a faint twitch of mischief creasing his lips. "For those of you who don't, I'm called Costas, and I sail for the Lady General. If you are going to be fleeting up with me to engage the enemy directly, ship-to-ship, I'll want to shake your hand before this meeting is done. That'll be it for tonight; later we'll talk the plan over drinks like proper corsair hands."

Tristram arrives, late, but present nonetheless.

"The Darkwater Count should be aplauded for bringing this force together." Abbas states succinctly and then pauses, "Your sailors will need to be quick on the decks. You will need to be loose. The blood tide has a chance to be high in this and God's willing; our blood shall not sate the depthless fathoms." He growls. The Warlord looks around the table and those who stand, "We must not win a war right away. But we have a chance to cripple a foe who cannot leave. We can take the supply networks and chains that feed and house them so they starve. A starved enemy is a foolish and careless bastard." He then adds, "The Thraxian fleet will be brutal. Those who support the Gyre will suffer. And they will be made proper examples of. As much as the battles and days must be won. So too the tone for those who might seek to empower the Gyre by profit or force. Long must the thought of our sails send shivers into the spines of those who cast their fate to the wind of the Saffron chain."

Eirene mutters, "And I though volunteering to marry an elf was bad." She shakes her head in dry amusement at Julea.

Ford lifts his chin as Abbas speaks, "Tears in our wake."


Dominic bangs his ceramic cup with coffee against the ground with a roar, "Tears in our wake. Never at our wake."




"Aloft there, aloft there"
Our jolly bosun cried!
Row high, Row low,
And so sail we!
"Look ahead, look astern,
Look to weather an' a-lee"
All a-reaven' through the Isles,
Of the Blue Saffron Sea!


"There's naught upon the stern, sir
There's naught upon our lee,
Row high, Row low,
And so sail we!
But there's a lofty ship to wind'ard
An' she's sailin' fast and free"
All a-reaven' through the Isles,
Of the Blue Saffron Sea!


Maximilian exhales. "Well spoken, Prince Abbas. Thank you."

Max refills his coffee cup, stealing himself for the next part.
r"Alright. People have had a chance to introduce themselves. So now... Lets discuss a few nuts and bolts." Says Maximilian... "Now we discuss the things I expect to bring some howls of protest. Money."

    "Just wait, as bad as it is for me, it will tenfold worse for him. I ain' the easiest person to get along with." Julea comments to Eirene, before she too intones, "Tears in our wake."

It's as if the mere mention of it brings Castiel to life, or perhaps it was the pounding of fists and the recitation of the Thraxian words that got his attention, but he's now looking straight at Max with an expectation in his eyes.

Driskell refills coffee mugs, drinks and wipes away errant spills.

Remi chuckles when Maximillian brings up money, "Be on your own for tha' one lad, Still got a crew pissed o'er tha' last prize we took.. 300 fuckin kids, some fuckin riches.." His head giving a small shake as he pushes himself off the wall. The man's left hand lowering down to pull a flask from one of his pouches, the thing opened quickly and lifted for a sip to be taken as he looks over the others.

Maximilian looks around the table. "Men of thrax. We are working in a multi-realm fleet. Elements of the Oathlands and Crownlands are joining us. A majority of the Hundred Cities sail with us." He sips his his coffee.
r"It is my determination that for unit cohesiveness, no joint task force will take thralls as part of its duties. Prisoners are to be interrogated and either released if they swear, or put to the sword if they do not."

Reese is still here quietly listening to the conversation at hand. She looks over to Dominic at his words, nodding in response and giving her coffee mug a little bang in echo. Luckily it wasn't to filled. She then turns to Max as he gives his poem, listening to him. She looks thoughtful at the talk of money.


Excuses his uproar quietly towards Driskell, thanking him for the refill which he sips and takes back his seat. Dominic looks up to listen to the money talk.


As Tristram entera, Halsim looks in his direction, the robed man wearing a black, blank mask and staring for a moment, before he looks back to Max.

Maximilian stands by then - waiting for the displeasure of the Thraxians present.

Eirene barks a laugh "Now I don't have to be an ass for bringing that up. Thanks for reading my mind, Count Max." She gives a dry grin, not caring how the Thraxians react.

"I assume you have spoken to Victus about this." Castiel says softly and in a voice that carries well despite the room being so filled with people. "I must assume the High Lord has signed off to this, else we would not be discussing it here as a fact sealed and done now. Would we?" he asks of Max without rising from his seat; in fact he doesn't even lift an arm, but stays completely still where he's been in that chair for the last hour.

Samantha's brows furrow at Remi, before her expression turns thoughtful. And when Maximilian brings up the no thralls policies, she remains wisely silent. Nope. Not here. Pay no attention to the bleeding heart in the room, folks.

Even if the Thraxians disapprove, Lady Octavia seems to approve of the decision. "As a logistical concern, if nothing else, I have to support the ban on taking thralls. They will slow down the fleets to an unacceptable degree."

Driskell glances around at those here when the word is no thralls. Here, have another refill of coffee.

Halsim simply listens and waits.

Max sips his coffee, eyes on Castiel. "He gave me command of this mission and is aware of my particular concerns for cooperation. If he objects, he has not said so."

Jasher just listens impassively. Approve or not, this is certainly not the place and time to argue it in front of non-Thrax.

Darrow stands, as dispassionate as a statue and just as stony as he watches the proceedings.

Reese looks toward Max, finally the warrior princess speaks up. "Do you mind me asking how much you are looking to raise and how much of that you have currently? I just want to get an idea of what are looking at here. I might be able to help, but having the details would aid me in puzzling this out."

Ford looks towards Castiel. Maybe the lasers he's imagining are burning a hole in his skull.


Dominic flashes his gaze to Abass and shakes his head before raising his attention to Max, "Are we fighting a war or playing politics? Thralls do not make us slow, they make us faster. They are a form of energy as strong as its weakest link." A deep exhale escapes him and he smokes.

"Politics is part of war, DOminic." Says max, looking at him. "If I say yes, go ahead and take thralls, now our allies bleed for our enrichment, an enrichment they hold moraly repugnant. ANd then we have -fewer allies-."

Maximilian siiiiiiiips his coffee.

Eirene points at Octavia. The less than bleeding heart rationale. "They also take medical attention, food, and berths," she replies to Dominic. "Which are better spent on loyal men. Aside from it being morally repugnant as he puts it."

"Not good enough." Castiel answers again, fixing his stare on Max. "Either the High Lord agrees to this or there is no agreement from Thrax." He glances over to where Abbas and Dominic are, waiting to see if they have anything to add before he turns back to the meeting's host. "There is no deal until there is a deal. It is as simple as that. But having said that, Thrax will negotiate. We are, after all, civilized people."

Calypso speaks up. "Any time I have asked the High Lord of Thrax about this situation, he has pointed me towards Count Darkwater for coordination. If that isn't sign off, I don't know what is."

Octavia narrows her eyes in Dominic's direction and replies, "A dozen thralls are useless compared to one trained sailor, a fact that you might find surprisingly true if you try it. Ships move faster when they're not burdened down with thralls that we must feed and clothe." She then turns her eyes on Castiel and asks, "I'm sorry, did High Lord Victus name a new Voice and not tell anyone?"

Reese turns her attention to Castiel, looking thoughtful and a little confused as he speaks. She doesn't comment, deciding to carefully stay out of the Thrax politics.

"This is not a negotiation, Prince Castiel." Says Maximilian. "This is a breifing. I have laid down operational peramitiers." Says he, siiiiiiiping his coffee. "If you object, you are within your right to take it to Victus. But your remedies are to remove me, and shatter the alliance I have built, or to accept my policy. Which do you prefer?"

Remi voices moments later after Dominic, "Nothing else effective way o' tiring out the gyre.." The man's words spoken with a certain dark amusement. Maximilian's words have Remi looking to the man. "So we should give up our ways so they feel better about protecting their asses from the sea and what comes with it? They are getting plenty out o' it already."

"You speak only for yourself, not for Thrax." Jasher states, looking at Castiel. "Don't give yourself airs, cousin."

Costas watches the discussion between the Thraxans unfold with typical illegibility. The hand on the pommel of his weapon toys with an embellishment there: a wrought-iron chain in miniature, with a rent and broken manacle hanging from the end.


Dominic glances over his shoulder to Eirene, "I know what it takes to support the Thrax fleet." A grunt escapes him and he turns to Castiel, "Abass, right there is our High Lord's Warlord. The direction in which Abbas points to, the fleet follows."


Octavia nods to Eirine's whisper.

Ford is grinning like fiend.

Samantha, still silent. Oh look, what interesting paint the walls have!

Harald's eyes narrow at the exchange, fixed on the Count of Darkwater, amid all other discussions. A slow breath is drawn through the nose. Helm is drawn back on, followed by gauntlets. "I've heard enough," he rumbles, rising to his feet. Without further ado, the Grimhall pushes his chair back and turns to start toward the door.

Eirene saddles over to Octavia and mutters a comment. She then salutes to Calypso and Max. "I've got preparation for the column push. If anyone else wants to coordinate their ships doctors and medics, liaison through Lady Olivia."

Dagon stares at the participants of the discussion, his distaste for the whole thing written plainly on his face -- and those midnight blues narrow upon Castiel when he speaks. But the duke does not speak. It seems, the others have stated his words for him. He rests his hand on the pommel of his blade, Reafian, as he listens. The rubies of the Thraxian blade gleam in the light.

Castiel turns and smiles at Octavia politely. "Of course not; and that is why there is no negotiation happening *here*. If you believe this is a thing done then you may speak to him. And if you are so certain then I am certain he will chastise me accordingly." he tells her before looking over to Max again. "I have no preference. I am only stating the obvious - until the High Lord of Thrax agrees to this, not by implication but explicitly, then there is no such agreement."

Harald has left the Central Map Table.

Octavia finally snaps and replies, "No one is asking for your agreement, Prince Castiel. We are asking for your compliance, or your leave from the room."


He rolls his shoulders and shakes his head again, "Thralls operate my fleets. If we are not allowed to do war, a nasty and repugent thing, then we are limited in the ways with help."


Dominic said that.

Maximilian considers Castiel for a moment, then looks to Harald. "Lord Grimhall. Can we count on your support, or does the matter of thralls push Grimhall away?"

    Julea looks directly across the table to Castiel, her eyes narrowing in on the Thraxian Prince as she considers the man and then asks Max, clarifying. "You speak only of the taking of -new- Thralls. Not existing ones, right?"

Bianca inhaled a slow breath through her nostrils, pulling a small ledger from her messenger case and making a few small notations.

Maximilian nods to Julea. "Yes."

Carissa, a Malvici bodyguard leaves, following Eirene.

    "Your existing Thralls would be fine then." Julea says towards Dominic.

Calliope's hesitation is minimal, if Harald is leaving, she goes with him. As he stands up to leave, she starts to follow. Her voice remains silent, and she doesn't glance back at anyone.

There is a glance over those discussing the matter of thralls, and Belladonna can't quite contain her chuckle, keep the smirk from her lips. Not that she says anything, instead turning back to Cassius and Lianne. There are a few more quiet words, and then she's bowing her head respectfully towards Count Darkwater and turning to go.

A cool detachment on his features, Darrow stands about as dour as Ford is fiendish.

"On the contrary, lady Octavia", Castiel tells the woman with a slow nod of his head, "you are asking for more than our agreement; indeed, our ships, our lives. And if you wish to begin expelling us from the room you might wish to consult with our host who sent out the invitations first." He looks to Max then, waiting for his input. "Do we sit at the negotiating table, Maximilian?"

Margot arrives eventually for what ever reason. She looks around as she ascends into the meeting room, heading over towards Dagon where ever he is.

Tristram meanders over to Halsim--an odd choice, to be sure--and gets a briefing on what happened before he arrived. When he's done, he looks up. And then he does something he's pretty famous for: he raises his hand.

Tristram doesn't just blurt out words, but rather, waits politely until he can speak without interrupting others.

Abbas leans forward in his chair. His callous fingers steeple together. The man grunts and states simply. "Ransom." He asserts, "Any person giving aid to the foe is eligible for ransom. Those who are not ransomed may be put to the sword. Their cargo is forfeit. Any crew with rank is to be taken and imprisoned by the Thrax for ransom. Thralls of commoners won't be taken the first mission." He asserts as he stands, "The Thrax fleet will take captives. We will profit. We will not take manual labor in the start of this." He grunts with a stern look and a sour disposition. "But we /will/ ransom the fuck out of those we choose worthy. And we take claim to all goods acquired to those who dare cross and break bread with the Gyre."

Ford's fiendish grin relaxes some what, "Let's not stall the proceedings any longer, Prince Castiel, if you want to drone on about your grievances bring it up with the Count when we're finished here. Otherwise, let's continue."

Harald pauses in his stride as Max speaks to him. The Grim lord half turns to look over his shoulder back at Maximilian. "No man's blunders will stop Grimhall from doing its duty, Darkwater. You will have a measure of our strength, and my own son to command them. They will answer to you because you were named Admiral. They will answer to you-" a look aside to Abbas, "Because you are Warlord." Back to Max. "Never doubt who your oldest allies are, vassal. I will leave you all to speak as you like, for none here have the stomach to listen to me, further. Until we meet again."

Maximilian bows his head to Harald. "I respect your objection, Harald. You are a friend to me, and Grimhall is my lords lord - I have respect for your ways, even as we disagree. I thank you. Deeply."

"Agreed." says Samantha, looking to Ford with a nod.

Margot stops and looks to Julea, her brow creasing slightly. She considers the woman's words before she looks pauses to ask her a question.

In the end Remi just shakes his head, Another sip from the flask taken before the man is turning and heading for the door. The flask slowly closed as he tucks it back away, His right hand lifting to push the door open. The Thrax offering over his shoulder, "Our people have taken thralls in battle and conquest time and again, It is our way. I get asked to kiss the asses of several other houses for not playing to their little traditions yet for them to work with us they must take a fuckin shit on mine? Not right, Tha's for fucking sure. Will lend some men to the cause, But doesn't mean I agree with it."

Halsim still says nothing, for his part. Instead, he writes into his notebook before he talks in an aside to Tristram briefly. "Don't feel like it's my place to comment on these matters as it is." Halsim remarks to Tristram.

The Archscholar rose to her feet, subdued tone turned to Dominic. "Your Highness, I will send a messenger to arrange a time to meet over the occult related assistance I am able to offer." It was at a volume that carried though on the under draft of the rising discussion. Then a brief glance and slight nod was offered to Jasher in unspoken indication before she too was packing away her things and moving to depart. One last pause was given at Costas before Bianca headed out!

Maximilian stands firm, looking back to Castiel, coffee in his hands. "It looks like a planning table." Then Remi speaks, and Max nods. "We do things we disagree with all the time. It's leadership. Thank you, Prince Remi."

Harald gives the smallest of nods to Max's answer and turns back to resume his tread out of the chamber. This time he does not turn back.

Tristram keeps his hand up, with a polite smile to Halsim. He's got something to say.

"See?" Castiel smiles when Abbas stands. "That sounds like a very agreeable suggestion to me, cousin." he says and claps his hands once to show his approval. "That sounds very fucking fair to me - no thralls necessary. Had we brought that up earlier, why, I would think the matter would have been clear from the start." When the Grimhalls clear the room though he turns back over to Max and gestures toward the table - maps on it and all. "Then let's carry on with the planning, why don't we?"

"Prince Tristram of the Oathlands?" asks Max, realizing he's doing that mainlander thing and not just talking.


Dominic's scowl calms slightly for Bianca's sake and he grunts to her with a polite smile, "I shall expect it. Thank you." He says to her before turning back to the table and the Thrall discussion at hand.


Dagon stands from his seat -- and when he sees Margot, he offers it for her with a light kiss on her cheek and a little, "Hello, love," but it's tense. He turns to Castiel then -- and his eyes flit between that Prince and Remi, while he finally speaks. "His Grace assigned Count Maximilian to lead this war council. As of His Grace's legislation, you are free to take thralls within conflicts of your own demesne, when they arise."

"Unfortunately, you have none. And this is not a conflict within your own demesne. This is a conflict that affects the whole of the realm, and your cooperation is expected, Prince Castiel, lest you doom your kinsmen."

Alexander leaves, following Calliope.

Dagon leans down into Margot, to murmur some words...

Samantha leans over to address Julea quietly, offering a smile to Margot at her arrival.

Maximilian glances at Abbas. "I think thats... a good position, Warlord. Lets talk about it when the meetings over. See if we can hammer out some firmnesses."

    Julea does step away from Abbas' side to move over towards Margot, having a few quiet words just before she arrives at Dagon's side. When Samantha nears, she turns towards her.

Remi leaves without another word spoken just shaking his head.

Mischief The Monkey leaves, following Remi.

Tristram says, "We are standing into danger against the Gyre. Amongst his servants are, apparently, Bringers and other things. Ianthe may be present since she's not present here. We know that people of certain bloodlines have certain powers, and certain weaknesses ideally in some places. I am not in any way suggesting anything about her loyalty, but I have a very practical question for Julea Marin." He looks at her. "Are you capable of anything that your fellow daughters of the Gyre are capable of that is a weapon that might be used against us? Are you unable to be harmed? Does holy water harm you?""

Maximilian is overheard praising Abbas for: Thats a damn fine idea.

"If anyone remaining objects to my orders for the Thraxian fleet. See me after." Abbas nods to Max. The man then sits down and looks grim as fuck.

Bianca has left the Central Map Table.

Samantha admits in puzzlement to Tristram, "Why has no one mentioned utilizing the third daughter? I know for a fact she is willing to lend her efforts to this endeavor."

"Because my understanding." Say Maximilian. "is those who shelter her, and she, wish her kept secret. I know of her, who she is... but I do not force any man or woman against their will."

    "I can be harmed." Julea brings her hand up to touch a finger to her brow, tracing the scar that cuts over her right eye. "Holy water does not harm me, and I wield a blessed blade." The hand drops down to her side, touching the small curved weapon there. "When I last spoke to her, she didn't wish to get involved, but wanted to remain hidden. If that has changed, then... any aid she can give would be welcomed." She offers to Samantha.

Cassius, likewise, withstands the conversation only for a bit longer. Then he turns, offers Belladonna his arm, and starts out.

Tristram says, "Do you have any powers or abilities that you are aware of?"

"As far as she's concerned, the cat is out of the bag." Samantha says firmly. "There are Prodigals now who bend knee to her." A pause. "And she bends knee to me."

Maximilian nods to Samantha. "You should speak to Victus then - for he has some very firm opinions that are not mine to give."

2 Pravus Honor Guard, Aida, Cassius leave, following Belladonna.

"That'll be exciting." Sam mutters wryly, and lapses into silence once more.

Tristram stays straight the Hell out of politics, thralls, Thrax, whatever. He's the only Valardin a room teeming with lots and lots of other people. Nope. Purely practical is the order of the day for the Prince in Purple.

Margot nods to Julia and leans into Dagon's kiss, smiling just faintly before her attention turns towards the others gathered. "I think." She says with measured care. "It is important to draw some very clear distinctios between those who submit willingly and those who remain enemies of the state. And understand that these groups must be treated differantly." She notes though her voice remains soft, suggestive rather than commanding. Her hand curls lightly around Dagon's arm. "My ship, The Dove will offer refuge to all Shavs who are willing to submit to the Compact and will not fight against those who agree to be peaceful." She notes. Before she looks over those gathered. "But those who are determined to be our enemies...."

Octavia nods and folds up her papers. "If there is nothing else on the logistic front, I have other things I need to do," she announces, waiting for any objections before she departs.

Darrow settles his reflecting-pool blue eyes on Samantha, still silent.

"With respect, Count Darkwater, Krakens Kin and others are looking for her." Halsim looks back to Max. "She can wish to keep hidden all she likes, but it may not be up to her in time."

Maximilian shrugs lightly at something Abbas murmurs to him, then sips his coffee.

Maximilian gestures Halsim to Samantha.

Abbas nods to Max and rumbles back quietly a moment. The man then focuses back on the matter at hand.

Halsim looks over to Samantha. "They *will* keep looking for her, and I cannot keep track of them all."

    Julea glances over towards Tristram, hestiant as she shakes her head. "Not that I'm aware of, yet."

Reese is still here and her coffee is now rather cold. "I have a few questions when you have the time, Count Max. It doesn't need to be today if you have more pressing matters. It is about the mission, but my part is small and your time is of high value."

"Thus far they have not found her. It's my responsibility as her liege to keep her safe. But she also believes it is her duty to aid in stopping the Gyre. One day," Samantha adds, "All of the daughters of all of the Heralds will have to make themselves known, and it will be dangerous, but also necessary."

Maximilian looks around the room.. "I'll talk to you soon Reese... But let me close this meeting, officially, with a few words. THen I'll let the division heads still present speak if they like..."


Dominic leans forward on his seat to look between Tristram and Julea, "But there is magic in her bloodline." He says with a grin, "As there is magic among the Thrax and their vassals." The prince looks down to his cup to go back into thought, sneaking a bite of a couple mushrooms from his pocket.


    "I met with the Horned God some time ago, and I was already.. seen. So, for me at least, there was no hiding. There is still some value in others doing so." Julea says following Samantha's words. She grunts once to Dominic. "I can control some of the Kraken Kin, but not to the extent that the Gyre can. It's untested."

Darrow speaks to Samantha, flatly. "I do not think her secret is as safe as you - or she, believe it to be."

"I'd like to speak to you about that sometime, DOminic." Jasher says quietly. Otherwise he just listens.

Retreating back into himself, Dagon is quiet after his condemnation of Castiel. Margot's hand on his arm brings him back to her, and he leaves his fingers on the back of her hand for but a soft, sweet moment.

"Absolutely, Count Max." Reese says, before falling silent.

Tristram says, "And so I assume this is also the case with the otherwise unidentified second daughter. Whether or not Ianthe has something, we'll find out, if she fights. Which she may not." He shrugs. To the strategic planners--looking first to Calypso--he says: "I ride horses, not ships. I am one of the best archers in the Compact. I'll fight where bidden. I carry the ammunition that I invented, in small amounts but I will bring some with me, which can burn the Bringers. Put me wherever you would--with Prince Dominic, perhaps, since he is apparently dealing with the supernatural threats? I seem to be pretty well-versed in that. Not much room for cavalry on islands, but I answer to Lady Minister General Calypso in most other things, so I would also gladly serve under her command.""

Abbas leans over to talk to Dominic briefly. Quietly. He then waits to close the meeting.

Samantha's expression remains untroubled. "As I said, we're aware that the cat is out of the bag, Lord Darrow." A little nod is given to Julea at some murmured exchange.

Margot shares a few more words with Julea before she steps back, her head tilting towards Dagon. She falls quiet, trying to get a read on the various parties in the room.

"I'll be doing what I can for the investigation and intelligence side of things, Your Highness." Halsim gives to Tristram. "As a member of the Inquisition though, my time is divided."

Maximilian sets his coffee cup down, separating himself from the precious black bean wine. "We have our differences. SOme of us are thrall holders. Some of us, thrall takers. Some of us are hard men of the sea, and some of us have never stepped forward on to a deck. But we are coming togeter because the stakes are just too fucking high not to. I want nothing more than to be on the deck of a ship, not in silks, but as a sailor as I was raised. But we don't get to choose our duties and our times. We rise to what we are thrust into."

"So rise with me. Rise on the tide, rise to the challenge. Our way forward is to stand together. The Compact will not withstand what comes next if we allow our differences to splinter us. I am personally honored to stand in this company, and I will gladly bleed for every one in this room, and everyone they protect."

Maximilian steps back then, nodding to Abbas as if to ceed the floor.

Calypso turns a nod towards Tristram as he speaks up. "We will coordinate on the shore operations. The details are yet to be smoothed out. But I will have you with me gladly."

Tristram says, "I'd like to see what will happen if I shoot an unholy creature supported by the Dark Reflection of Mangata with an arrow filled with the Holy Water of Mangata. Might be quite a show."

Abbas stands and grunts, "I have not much to say." The Warlord states, "May the screams of the weak pierce satiate the blood tithe. May the strong and hard find wind in their sails. May those who die meet their death like men of the Salt. Grim-faced and determined. Clawing at the throat of those who stand before us until their last. Tears in their wake."


Dominic nods to those present turning briefly to grab Abbas' shoulder and gripping it tightly. He nods to the man and whisper to him before confronting the others in the room, "Prince Tristram, I would be honor to host you and your men on my ships." He then turns about trying to catch up.


Castiel nods at Maximilian. "All of us want the same thing. I am certain we can come to a satisfactory arrangement, as this is the beginning of the journey and not the end." he says in agreement. "But it is important to make it a good beginning. I think this wasn't half bad, either." He stands when Abbas does though and shows a clenched fist to his cousin. "Tears in their wake, Warlord."

Driskell lifts a brow at the mention of the blood tithe while he collects mugs and cups used for the meeting as it's coming to close.

Tristram looks from Calypso, to Dominic, and then to Maximillian. "Who decides where I go?"

Ford looks over at Tristram, "I thought you just signed yourself up for the Lady General's efforts."

Maximilian gestures to Tristram. "You do, based on what you can offer. If you're just going to stand around, you can stay on the shore." He syas, then offers Tristram a copy of the operational orders."

Reese looks toward Max with a silent question in her blue Grayson eyes, maybe she has the same question about herself as Tristram has.

Stepping into the Ward Room quietly is Valerius Thrax, his arms crossed lightly over his chest as he takes a spot near the entrance, doing his best to avoid drawing attention to himself in the process. For the time being he remains quiet, content to listen.

Maximilian passes Reese a copy of those orders as well.

Lianne keeps perfectly quiet and still through the theatrics, through the last bit of speech-making and cheerleading. She lingers on the outskirts of the meeting, her duke and duchess having left, and simply watches the crowd go about whatever bits of business are left. Lurking. Possibly waiting.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Dominic before departing.

Dagon stays silent, standing behind Margot, while Abbas's speech echoes around them. There's no mimicry of the Thraxian words from the former prince -- he only stares at that map for a long moment, while that blood red ruby in the sword at his side gleams a devilish need for blood. His attention soon snaps up, at some realization, and he moves towards Abbas. "Cousin, if you've a moment, I would steal you before anybody else. I have something for you -- for after... this. After the Gyre."

Abbas nods to Dagon, "Of course, cousin. Over some rum in just a moment."

Tristram sighs. "I volunteered to help the effort. I explained to you what I have to offer; my bow; my pledge. Originally I was supposed to be an observer; now I am here to volunteer to a greater effort. I expect the commander of the operation to know whether or not I am better suited to being on land with Lady General Calypso, or on the supernatural task force with Prince Dominic. You're in command, no? Command."

Darrow speaks curtly, then, eyes flicking between Abbas and Calypso. "The marines of the Lament, as well as my wavecutters, are usable as however anyone sees fit. They are versatile, and I will stand where and with whom is needed." A lingering look is then leveled at Lianne, as if trying to read into her silent lurking.

Samantha looks over to Abbas. "Your Highness, as arranged by the Lady Octavia, Deepwood lumber will be at your disposal for all of your repair and constructive needs."

Maximilian looks to Tristram then. "You're an archer. You're with Costas Vodduci on anti-ship operations."

"Over rum," Dagon agrees with Abbas, nodding. He goes back to Margot's side, his eyes drifting again towards that mirror that hangs in the corner.


Dominic nods to Tristram, "Sail with me. There are few who can understand my madness or have the bowels to stand next to my hounds." He laughs and grabs some rum, replacing his coffee.
\

Jasher finishes his drink, gives Max a nod then slips out. He has nothing to say at this point and needs to catch someone who just left.

Jasher has left the Central Map Table.

Margot remains quiet, for the moment gripping Dagon's arm then releasing it to allow him to go to his cousin if he wishes. "After the meeting Count Darkwater, if we could speak?"

Tristram looks to Max and then to Dominic confusedly.

    Julea is quiet as things wrap up, the journal she hods lowered down to her side and one hand tucking into the front pocket of her pants. She is attentive though, listening as people talk and make their arrangements.

"I have my Devotion." Reese says, speaking of her superb alatricite blade. "And I am primary a fighter, but good against the supernatural of course. I am not sure where I will fit best myself." She says, finally speaking up.

Samantha has left the Central Map Table.

"Or as requested by Dominic, sail with him. The point is to go where you are best used. If Dominic has a use for you, I trust him." Says Max, as he moves to pick up the paperwork that has sprawled out. "Of course, Duchess Tyde."

Costas senses the questions are starting to wrap up and so raises his voice again, looking to Max. "Can you send me a list of who, and what ships, are actually under my command for the anti-ship operations? I will want to meet with these folk to discuss the plan." His eyes then flick over toward Ford. "And we should sit down and discuss protocols for getting your scouting intel to my fleet so that we can respond rapidly."

Samantha makes her way over to Julea, settling beside the woman with her usual serene air.

Ford nods once to Costas

Maximilian nods to Costas. "Yes. PArt of this is I want you to recruit. Agressively. Find people to fill your crews."

Tristram meanders over to the houndsman.

Calypso finally raises from the table. "We'll get the details ironed out in the coming week." She gives Costas a nod for his request. "A detailed list of who is involved where would be beneficial. Keep the communication loop efficient." She nods to Max. "Thank you for coordinating this meeting."

"See Lady General Calypso, about joining the ground forces," Dagon offers to Reese with a soft, encouraging smile that easily parts through his recent brooding. "I think you may be best there."

Julea has joined the Central Map Table.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Abbas before departing.

Castiel stands from his chair once enough people seem to be rising, and with a glance toward his family first he picks the overcoat he had deposited at the back of his chair earlier without bothering with its sleeves. "It was not the easiest meeting." he tells Calypso then. "But I have seen worse. No one was stabbed." He taps his hands over his ribs and bows before Max. "It was interesting as usual, Maximilian."

Calypso nods to Reese. "I will be in touch, your Highness."

Maximilian opens then - the doors to the outside. "It always is, Cass.." and then he steps out onto the Veranda.

    With a few people having departed, Julea manages to secure a seat alongside Abbas, though she does encourage Samantha to join her, using her foot to nudge another seat towards the woman. When she is near, she leans in to have a few quiet words with her.

As the talk continues Valerius seems to be visibly relieved, his gaze panning over those still gathered as his shoulders relax. Reaching up, he scratches lightly at the side of his face and breaks from his spot, making his way over towards Lianne.