The Claim of the Rose: In Jayus' Hands has started at Outside Arx - Lyceum near The Roseward - Tor - The Roseward - Outside the Roseward.

By the time the group of diplomats from The Roseward arrives to their land, it is noon, and three days earlier than planned. Good weather and an uneventful travel made for a quicker, if brisk arrival.

Soon enough they are reinforced by a guard consisting of no more than twenty soldiers from the March, and led by a minor seneschal to the gathering of shav'arvani tribes claiming to wish to speak and negotiate terms of concession.

It isn't a small tribe, from the looks of it - their encampment is more like a settlement of sturdy canvas tents modified with special provisions to weather the sweltering Lycene heat, like yurts. They are received by a group of five individuals and escorted to the largest of the tents, where an elderly man and three others, form a council. They have, it seems, awaited this day.

A group of diplomats and the Marquis, more precisely. Not exactly talented in that particular area, he'll be relying on the others who are more inclined in that direction. However, he strikes a pretty sight on the back of his black destrier, clad in gleaming diamondplate armor with a shining alaricite blade hanging at his side. Dante surveys the squalid encampment, keeping the disdain he feels tamped down tightly inside. Riding up to the council, he salutes them. "Marquis and Marquessa Di Fidante." He gestures to his Lora with a subtle glance for her to take it from here.

It's a very different group than rode out to answer the plea for help the last time the di Fidante were truly out this way. But that was several months ago, and now the weather has changed, everything green and growing again. Everything that wasn't burnt, tainted, or blighted, anyway. If the marquessa is awed by the size of the tribe that has turned out to meet them it doesn't show; she's the model of decorum, fresh roses braided into her hair that were cut back only a little while ago so that there's no hint of wilting. Like she cannot be touched by the heat, not melted by it. She dismounts, passing her horse off to one of the soldiers, and there furthers the introductions, as appropriate. "Lord Corvini, the Count of Iasu; Mistress Josephine Arcuri, Guildmaster of the Crafters in the capital city of Arx; and Lady Thea Malvici. We have come to listen to your petition."

Josephine travels well, so long as it's not by ship, or to the far ever frozen north. White hair is short and preserves against the heat and being Lycene as well, she doesn't wilt. It may take some help to get off the horses though, and her way into the tent is with assistance of a cane, but the crafter none the less bows to the abandoned tribe when she is introduced, offering politeness as they go. Over her shoulder, a bag that doesn't bulge, but isn't empty either.

The Corvini count follows along behind, his gaze tracking this way and that as he considers those about them. A nod is given at Lora's words, even as his own attention rests primarily on those about him. A faint smile rests on his lips and his hand rests atop the saddle nut.

"I am Raginir," the elderly man states; he is clad in a very fine tunic and breeches, both made of silk, or perhaps something /like/ silk. He supports his weight on a staff that seems to have been grown out of wood rather than carved, but that is merely a testament of the artistic prowess of this particular tribe. Not draped in jewelry, the only affectation of wealth is a ring made of white gold and dotted with rare gemstones. Some even not common to Arvum.

"These are Bela," he nods to the younger man sitting at his left, "Dorai," to the woman to the left of Bela, "and Nora. We are the Council of the Hands, the ones in charge of administrating the tribe and forging lasting bonds for it, among other things. Welcome, and please, join us," he turns after bowing deeply, opening the flap of the tent to reveal a large, rounded table. Seems like they have prepared for a feast, because there is plenty of food, some of which are dishes traditional to Shav'arvani of this region, served in large platters, and plenty of wine.

Dorai shifts a little uneasily, eyeing Dante and the others with distrust, while Bela sets his hand on her shoulder, and she steadies herself after a quick murmured exchange. Nora, a buxom woman with a smith's hammer's pendant dangling from her neck in a fine gold chain, seems unperturbed.

The young Malvici bows her head as she's introduced, sliding off her horse with her ease. Her long brown hair is tied back, her demeanor relaxed but cautious.

Sliding off of his warhorse, Dante hands off the reins to Andre to go take care of securing his mount. Keen eyes quickly weigh the group before them for any intent that appears hostile, but with nothing that seems threatening on the surface, the Marquis smiles and greets them all by name. "Councilmembers Raginir, Bela, Dorai, Nora. We are honored. Thank you for the hospitable reception." His hand remains far from the hilt of either sword.

The Corvini count dismounts as well, his man taking the reins. A nod is given to his own, hard-faced guard who also dismounts, flanking the Corvini count. "Greetings, Councilors all," he says, bowing his head slightly. "I pray you are all well this day." His eyes are dark, but his smile is a warm, pleasant thing. The expression of a career courtier.

Lora studies each of the councilmembers as they are introduced, giving each a very careful tilt of her head that manages a fair amount of formality without the obsequiousness of a curtsey; it blends acknowledgement with specific recognition. "Councilmembers." She doesn't echo her husband, exactly, but at the end she does smile a little. It's actually the spread of food laid out for them that prompts the most actual pause, like she temporarily forgets to take a step, going still instead of faltering. A beat later and she's wholly recovered, a faint smile emerging that is almost as warm as the day outside, and as they're invited she takes a seat and arranges herself carefully. "Your hospitality is commendable."

"Thank you," Raginir speaks, as his councillors take their seats, and so do the guests, and only after that does he take his own. He spends a moment in collected silence as tribesmen assigned to serve them start to pour wine and serve the dishes, one by one.

"I shall try to be objective, even as we eat, as I'd rather not waste your time, my Lady." The councillor knows his manners, it seems.

"Before the Volkovs were wiped out," news travels fast, "we were in talks of joining them and swearing to the Compact. There are none among us of noble blood, so we would be mere commoners. But they promised us protection. Now that they are gone, however, evidently we want to know your people better." Before making such commitments, is left unsaid.

Josephine doesn't speak, but remains just behind Lora and to the left. Though she looks to that pendant worn. But seats are offered and Josephine waits till Lora and Dante have seated before she takes up a seat herself.

Thea doesn't mention her relationship to her the Volkovs. She looks at the food and people however and smiles briefly. Gold-flecked green eyes take in her surroundings as well, a habit as she awaits for the Marquis and Marquesa to sit.

Vicente remains silently towards the back of the group, his hands are folded behind his back and his face is stern but not angry or cruel. His brow is lowered and he is regularly scanning the surrounding. His eyes briefly scan over Reginir as he speaks and but continues to keep his silence here.

As is usually the case taking a seat at a dinner table in full plate requires a little bit of maneuvering on Dante's part. By the time he is in his chair, likely the rest of the party has been seated. His helmet and gauntlets are both removed and handed to a military aide to hold. Since the councilor is addressing the Marquessa, the Marquis wisely keeps his mouth shut and observes, his mossy green eyes sharp with interest.

Lora checked charm + etiquette at difficulty 30, rolling 62 higher. Lora rolled a critical!

Amund GM Roll checked charm(4) + etiquette(3) at difficulty 30, rolling 8 higher.

There's a slight tilt of head as Lora listens, subtle birdlike interest showed as Raginir opens the matter at hand. There's only a slight shift of her gaze to follow one of the tribesmen as a plate of food begins to be distributed but it's fleeting at best. "One of the chief benefits to joining the Compact is the protection that it offers. Which makes it an even greater tragedy that the Volkov fell, as they did, for all that we had no idea that anything was amiss until it was too late." There's a somberness to that. "We are not the Volkov, but we hold great respect for those who have become our vassals, and many of our most trusted friends and allies are 'mere' commoners." She looks first toward Giulio, then Josephine, as if they might respectively be the most shining examples of this.

The Corvini count bows his head in acknowledgement of Lora's words. "Marquessa DiFidante is most kind," he says softly, flashing a warm smile. "You may or may not know of me, or my reputation, but, I view the Marquessa as both most honorable, but also most wise." He lets his gaze rest on the councilors.

Giulio checked charm + manipulation at difficulty 30, rolling 58 higher.

Lora looks to Josephine looks to Raginir. To the others with him. "For years, for as long as I can remember and the stories told to me, the Arcuri's, that is my family, have served the royal house of the Lyceum. The Velenosa. Never have we served another. Never have we bent a knee but to that great house." Josephine takes the plate when it's offered round to her and she takes up something from it, smelling it first as if savouring the scent, and then passes the plate onwards.

"Two years ago, I met a young woman on a journey. To a frozen place. We found a friendship. I have a fairly... condescending view of nobility. I find the vast majority of them obsessed with getting what I make, but does not really take the time to -appreciate- what I make. To -see- what it is I make and try to understand the care taken and the love put into something created by two hands." Josephine looks to Lora. "But this girl, this young thing that sat at my workbench, who sweated by my forge, who has earned the small few burns on her fingers..." She gestures to Lora's hands. "Learned. She took the time. She has consoled me in the grief that I have been in at the recent loss of my eldest daughter. She has knitted with her own hands, the shawl about my shoulder as a gift to show her appreciation that I have taken her as Patron." Josephine shifts in her seat and looks to Raginir. "And four months ago, with permission give by my Archduchess Regent, the vows of fealty that I have sworn since I was old enough to swear them and make the choice were released. And I turned and bestowed them to my Lora. My Marquessa. And in turn, to the Marquise Dante. I have broken tradition long held by me and mine and serve another house, bent the knee. And I will, to the day I die. And she still stands by me in the forge, working the metal, helping to commune with Jayus and she, our dear and hopefully new friends, brings me out of darkness of despair, into the light of life. I give you my story, as the Prince of Stories asks we all share, so that you can see the dedication she and he will give, should you add your stories to her. To strengthen -our- stories."

Dante checked charm + leadership at difficulty 30, rolling 21 higher.

Vicente lowers his right hand from behind his back at the mention of Josephine's mention of burned fingers for Lora. He then tightens his fingers and folds them behind his back. He remains silent though at the moment and continues to look among the group, eyes shifting more than the entire head.

"You must understand, friends," Raginir opens the response of his people, after the councillors speak among themselves. "We are the kind of people who have long lived and endured raiders. Destruction, people seeking to do us harm. It isn't just the Shav'arvani," he points out, pausing with a sigh, "But also opportunists from all walks of life, even those sworn to the Compact. They want what we produce. We are a peaceful people, forced into a perpetual march to safety. We have never set roots, despite our yearning to. Not since our ancestors were forced never to return to the Twin Cities. We have lingered for a hundred years in this region, however. Before the Volkovs bent the knee, they were our partners in trade."

Nora listens to Josephine's account, considering it. She whispers something towards Bela, who looks at the Guildmaster contemplatively.

"Words," Bela weighs in, ultimately, "are wind, until they become deed. We are a people who work with their hands, who shape things out of materials. We make tools, we make weapons, we make sculptures and everything inbetween, with whatever we can find. We need assurances. We know our people will endure, no matter what. This is a view that we share. But we want to know /how/ you'll help us endure."

Amund GM Roll checked charm(4) + leadership(3) at difficulty 30, rolling 8 higher.

Amund GM Roll checked charm(4) + persuasion(3) at difficulty 30, rolling 14 higher.

The vouch from Giulio is met with a nod of his head, but Josephine's expounding upon Lora's admirable qualities is truly something to behold. Left awed by the praise from her protege, he turns his attention upon the councilor and his people. "The Marquessa is one to not promise what cannot be delivered, nor be anything less than serious about any matter of gravity - especially one where the safety and security of those who would be under our protection are concerned. As Messere Josephine stated so eloquently, she is a tireless and devoted worker whose mind and fingers work towards the glory of Jayus. She also created my sword and armor, art of a different sort for war." Dante's diamondplate armor and alaricite sword are there for them to see. "She crafted our wedding bands. You are concerned about how we will protect you, then know her words are also backed with mine, a knight of the Lyceum and the Sword of Tor. We will do all to shelter you from harm. Even now we raise our armies. Those who destroyed the Volkovs in their villainous sneak attack shall be annihilated in turn. All who come to us, commoner or otherwise, and bend the knee to us will be protected with all of the diplomacy and force necessary to ensure it."

Thea is quiet as the Volkovs are mentioned. Sitting and listening, reaching for something on her plate.

There's a faint smile for Giulio's praise, sort of sublime in that Lora at least may understand what it means, but then Josephine speaks and her expression softens and the bow of her head that seems to temporarily regard the plate of food in front of her might also be to make sure there aren't somehow any tears shed. After a moment she turns wholly toward the Arcuri to smile at her, too, but it's not a polite expression as much as it is a fond one. Dante's own commentary cover some of this up, naturally, and by the time she looks back at their hosts she's mostly recovered. "What happened was a tragedy to the Volkov was a tragedy. What you have endured for generations is a tragedy. But Arvum is built upon them, and as a whole we have become stronger for them. Persevered through the losses that have been inflicted upon us. There's a small village now, out upon the plain, where we have begun to invite merchants and craftsmen from all manner of places. It is our hope to establish a thriving market there, and a trade school." Lora studies each of the councilors in turn, her gaze lingering on Raginir - and his ring - for a beat. "We do not make idle promises; we do not offer what we are not willing to give. We would offer you, all of you, a place in this village. Homes there, behind its walls. Access to the markets, the traders. Not simply the di Fidante as trade partners, but all of Arvum."

Lora checked charm + propaganda at difficulty 45, rolling 2 lower.

Vicente remains quiet, listening to the politcal movements of the two sides back and forth. His eyes lower as he stares as the opposition side and then listens as they praise. His hands clinched behind his back. He takes the moment to turn and scan the horizon slowly, not one side but nearly in a full circle, as far as he can scan without actually turning his legs. His eyes come back towards the table assuming that everything does indeed turn out to be safe.

Josephine checked charm + diplomacy at difficulty 30, rolling 19 higher.

"What we want to know," Dorai says, gently, but still with that edge of distrust, "is how you are going about with that. We see you have a plan. Are you going to give us a quarter in your village? Where are we going to practice our craft? How do you intend to pacify your opposition in the area? The Volkovs' old captain has gone rogue, and we know you've helped the Longfeathers win a siege and had the other side bend the knee to you. By all accounts, you are honorable. We want a contract. A spoken contract," she goes on to add, "and we need room to practice our craft, to teach it to our young. We're ready to pledge our assistance in making your lands more productive with our knowledge, in exchange. To help you get those markets you spoke of."

Raginir and the other two fall silent, for now, apparently a little swayed by Lora's promise, despite Dorai's distrust. Nora, in particular is looking at Josephine. Pointedly so.

Vicente checked command + war at difficulty 40, rolling 9 higher.

Lora checked command + intimidation at difficulty 30, rolling 13 higher.

Vicente glances over towards the group at this point and says, "I understand" His tone flat and emotionless as he speaks the first time, "You want a good deal for you and your children. We all do but at present I see three ways to either flank or overrun your settlement and push it into another army." His hands come out to gesture in a few ways, "You might be able to get away on one or two potentially lucky routes but you'd have to sacrifice everything you had. It would be better than the alternative but it would be an unnecessary action to take if you prepare."

Josephine checked charm + haggling at difficulty 30, rolling 20 higher.

Dante checked charm + leadership at difficulty 30, rolling 110 higher. Dante rolled a critical!

Amund GM Roll checked charm(3) + leadership(4) at difficulty 45, rolling 10 lower.

Amund GM Roll checked charm(4) + seduction(5) at difficulty 30, rolling 25 higher.

Amund GM Roll checked charm(4) + diplomacy(4) at difficulty 40, rolling 5 higher.

Their demands are heard. Dante continues to sit back, listening, as Vicente points out the weaknesses of their encampment. Josephine entices them with the promise of all sorts of materials they can use to craft with for for the glory of Jayus. Lora guarantees them what they need - safety behind the walls of the new settlement with a quarter just for crafters, space for their work, her words as eloquent as they always are. Really, he shouldn't need to speak. But something about these Shavs holding out and dithering while his wife and her protege eloquently work to sway them does something to the Marquis. This time, he does stand up, chair falling over with a slight thump. A fist stretches into the air, shaking off in the direction of the Roseward. "Council! All that you wish, you shall get! Yes, the protection afforded by walls, you will get plenty of space. We will have food aplenty and you will be treated with respect. Markets from the entire Compact will be open to you, your trade protected by steel. But as far as security goes, pacifying those who have gone rogue as well as those who oppose us - they WILL bend the knee OR they will feel it break! There will be no quarter! We will welcome all to us once under these terms, for they are generous and you will get all of the aid you need. A verbal contract you shall have. But all of those who stand against our open arms will find the blade instead! So fear not any opposition, we will wash them away in a thunderous tide of blood and steel!" He looks over to Lora then, fist dropping to his side.

"Words," Lora says, echoing what Bela said a few minutes ago with absolute blandness, "are wind, until they become deed. What good would a spoken contract do for you?" So mild, this question. Like milk, poured into tea. Until it isn't. Until, on the wings of Vicente's words and the Marquis' impassioned speech, she looks up. At each one of them in turn, seawater gaze hard now where it'd been melting before. "We, all of us, live in perilous times. We have have offered these things. A place behind in the village, behind the walls. Room in the fields, to work and grow. In the markets, to trade the work of your hands. We cannot promise anything else, because you have already seen that there is not anything else. Yet." She pauses for just a moment. "You are free to decline this. Free to leave our land... because, to be clear, the same Compact that offers you solace if you bend the knee currently considers you its enemies. How much longer can you afford to live like this? How far can you roam? What life is this for your children, scraping for existence, when you could finally have a place where your gifts are welcome, where your devotion to Jayus is recognized, not viewed as something to be preyed upon? You heard that we came to Longfeather's aid, and broke the siege there. That Limeranshi bent the knee. Those are your choices, councilmen: the chance for prosperity for generations, or inevitable destruction."

"We should tell them Marquessa." Josephine keeps Nora's gaze. "The ring upon his finger speaks of sorrow. Of the many hands that it has rested upon in it's years. Hundred of men like him and I. Each has served well. But each has passed. It has hope though, it's there, I hear it. That this will not be the last hand that it sits on." Josephine gesture to the pendant. "It's worried. It's song, because that one sings. It sings of prosperity." Josephine pauses, closing her eyes and listens, then hums whatever little song she hears - it's an okay job, she's not great at singing. "But it's scared. It is scared that those who it serves in joy will be lost to time and Raginir might perish and his people will be left with nothing"

"Josephine leans over, places the bag on table, shifting the plate and with great care and reverence, pulls out little bags of gems, placed on the table with respect. A dragonweep, seraphinite, metals of all kinds. 'Each of these sings to me or speaks. I hear them and feel them. Both here on the table and int he ground beneath me. They speak to me and tell me what they wish to be, how they wish to serve, whether they wish to be above the ground or below it." The singular dragonweep that's there isn't put with the rest that are laid at the table. "I would offer you this, but it is to be a gift for another and I cannot part. But I will walk with you, upon the mines and places on this land and what will be yours. We will find what is wanted and needed. To build your forges and your work benches, to build the shrines needed to revere the gods." Star iron is plucked up and offered, palm up to Nora. "A gift. No strings attached. Whether you join me or not. It is for you. I would be interested to see what you do with it."

Well, the council is thrown into disarray by Dante's words, and for a long moment they all seem confused. From Raginir to Nora to Dorai to Bela, they all seem completely puzzled by this turn of events, each having their own reaction. Raginir's silent outrage at Vicente's words, the mere /thought/ that they could be threatened while playing host. Then Dante's spirit-rousing words, then Lora's hardened sentences. It draws something like ire from Dorai, but the outflaring doesn't show but for a moment or two. Josephine's efforts draw more of their attention and they chat amongst themselves, before Raginir speaks again.

"Were we to accept your terms, we want something to assure that our identity, our efforts, were not to be consigned to a footnote in history, however small a Scholar's entry on us might be. We desire a great temple to Jayus to be built in your lands, administrated by our people, protected by it. We want a garrison of two hundred soldiers to help us keep watch over it, to keep intruders out. And we want access to all the quarries and all the mines in your lands. Your Marquis speaks with a glad heart and a brave spirit, and we see the virtue in him. We will make you mills of all kinds. Forges, of all kinds. We will mine your veins, we will sell your gems. We will make you wine. It will not be a cheap investment. We will depart at once if these terms aren't favorable. We hope that they are."

Nora eyes the materials on the table with something closely approaching greed, but she doesn't reach for them, yet. "And we want to learn how you did that," she says, to Josephine.

"That, is not something learned. It is something that Jayus or one of the gods has so blessed those in my family with." Josephine looks to Lora and Dante then back to Norah. "But I have a daughter, my youngest, as yet unmarried and I am sure that she would be willing to marry someone and with hope, perhaps one of their children or one of their grandchildren will be born with this gift."

"No." The word is clear. Not hard, not sharp, but Lora is very clear about it. It is primarily a response to Raginir and his attempt at negotiating, but perhaps she has learned a thing or two about that from her protege as well. The words that follow are deliberate, calm, her cadence slow, each word chosen and strung together after the one that came before with the same care that the jeweler might string beads onto a silken cord. Before they can become too irate about her statement, however, she goes on. "Your identity will not be consigned to a footnote, it will be whatever you carve into the stones, whatever you cut into the trees, whatever you shape from the metal, but you miss something, in this. It is not our lands and your people." Josephine puts her bid into this as well, mention of her daughter, and the marquessa seizes on that as an example. "Your people become our people. This things are not for us, or for you, they are for the Roseward. For the whole land. To answer the blood that has been spilled there, to raise from it something that will last. Something enduring, for through tragedy we triumph. A market, a trade school, a temple to Jayus? All of these things are possible. Within our reach. But we need..." She glances around the table again. "It is as simple as... we need your hands. And we will do everything in our power to see these things done. Safe, protected, enduring."

Lora checked charm + diplomacy at difficulty 30, rolling 31 higher.

Raginir spends a moment deliberating with his councilmen. He sighs, sliding the ring off his finger. It is sent across the table, to Lora. "You will have our hands. You will have walls, and towers, and whatever else we can build."

"We bend the knee to the Roseward, as of today. Tell us where we can build, and we will."

How could they say no to what has been offered by Josephine and Lora? They cannot, and Dante smiles at the council benevolently, his promises to them now sealed with the passage of that ring to Lora.

Vicente returns to the background with his hands folded behind his back and his eyes scanning the surrounding as though anticipating something, the horizon scanned he returns his gaze back to the negotiation.

"We welcome you, and will begin making preparations to settle you in the village." Meanwhile, the ring, so offered, is taken up from the table. Lora studies it for a long moment and then offers it back across the table, cradled gently in the palm of her hand. "Raginir. A strong guild needs a strong leader. Will you serve as guildmaster of the crafters for the Roseward?"

Raginir considers that, considers Lora, and finally he nods. "Yes, my liege."

Meanwhile, Bela approaches Josephine, and mentions: "We can speak of your daughter and that gift later." This, spoken in a murmur, before he departs.