This one is actually valid.

Let's do this.
One minor problem, your assuming that the mercenaries won't do this:
"Because you were stupid enough to think that they wouldn't try to hold onto some blackmail for the second richest girl in Talabecland. Just a little back up plan, for when or if times got rough."

Those were words straight from the mercenaries mouth before she'd had it ripped out and burned along with the rest of him.
to us.
 
I rather we do the Everqueen favor and then ask the elves if they can set up a wine/ale trade to our location. Make Ostland the center place if you want to get tons of good alcohol and such. It'll be great if the wood elves also do the same, gives us both exotic and rare wine for people to buy and taste.
 
I'm aware you're probably joking, but it's not any crazier than some of the plans people have seriously proposed.
Or we could just use the pirates we've hired. Stage a loud and public disagreement with them, "sack" them, then have them target Marenburg trade shipping. Or if we don't care that they know, we could hand out some letters of marque.
Case in point.

Even assuming that, somehow, this actually worked without our getting connected to it, or the pirates we hire not getting smashed to pieces by Marienburg's fleets (any one of which dramatically outsizes our own), what is the actual benefit here? Hurting Marienburg in some fashion? Trade is a two-way street. What other polity do we also hurt by hunting shipping? Brettonia? The High-Elves? Nordland?
 
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the city known for backstabs throughout its entire history

I'd also like to point out that Marienburg isn't known for "backstabbing" much more than Altdorf at this point. The oligarchs of the Directorate have been in power for, what, three decades now? The previous rulers (the Van der Maachts) weren't anymore dishonest than your average feudal lord.

Edit: hmm, this gives me an idea. If the events surrounding Otto goes the same way as canon or worse, we might be able to diplomatically wrest control of the Westerlands away from the Directorate. Magnus would never allow Nordland to ever absorb it but maybe we could get Stephan to create a cadet branch from one of his younger children and transfer his claim (which is the strongest since the Van der Maachts were a Von Kessel junior branch) to them and have them be the elector baron of the Westerlands since the oligarchs were clearly unable to control themselves let alone an entire province.
 
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Honestly, I expect they might win this blow, but remember, we have Magnus on our side. That's a big advantage, one they can't trump. If they push too hard, it's gonna turn nasty for them.
It's my hope that Magnus, once he know what Marinburg and the Moot want to do will try to help us
One because he is a friend
Two because that kind of shit can't be left alone when he want to purge all corruption in the Empire
three, i'm pretty sure he doesn't want us to go full john Wick on the halfling and the merchants ( we are not going to kill them, but a économic war can be quite deadly)
 
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I still we send a few raiders to those halflings. Maybe a few hundred soilders posing as bandirs go to the elders house and kill them. The next one will tread carfully then. They dont do that much for the empire anymore. Its not loke the land could nit be farmed by human pesants. Maybe kidnap him. Or send our griffin to attack his escort on his way back. Or maybe ambish him with our great swords. Because the are getting too big for their military might. There is a reason that might makes right.
 
Elector’s Meet Of 2337 IC – 6
[X] Plan: Actually not starting a fight for once.
-[X] Best Keep Them Back: You can shift the efforts of the Army of the Forest to more concentrated patrolling now that you know about the beast-path anyhow.
-[X] Whether good or bad, you think that discriminating by innate characteristics opens up a can of worms that has not been adequately considered here. If halflings get this proposed benefit then shouldn't dwarves as well? Should ogres be taxed differently? It sounds like a problematic precedent, and a proclamation for the entire Empire focused on this single issue does not take differences between the provinces into consideration. It's too niche and simplistic. You may well consider land taxes and related issues in your province, but the solution found internally in Ostland will fit Ostland and be something that can be agreed on by all its peoples. This really should be discussed more before any kind vote. If one should be taken at all.
-[X] In regards to the trade deal. First and foremost, it's not prudent or appropriate to determine Empire wide trade policy this nuanced in a single meeting. Especially without giving adequate time for study and response or suggestions. If they wanted it decided on now this information should have been sent a lot sooner.
-[X] Advise willingness to future talks and negotiations on coordination on trade as you mentioned, but as is these proposals require a lot more vetting and debate.

GM NOTE AT BOTTOM

Elector's Meet 2337 IC – 6

For a sudden, wrenching moment of thought, you consider going across the table and strangling Jax Starbrook. Of seeing his piggish eyes pop out of their sockets, his flabby cheeks trembling and turning blue, of his blood spurting from out of his mouth and nose as you squeeze all the harder. Of twisting about and throwing a fist into Gunthar's skull and shattering his jaw so that you don't have to hear his sneering babbling any second longer. The more your look across this damning proposal, you are struck by the absolute realization that the Moot alone could not have come up with this. That there is one individual in the room who represents a waste-bound reservoir of cold mercantile knowledge and the willingness to use it. Constantly smiling, and here. Who capitalized on your fumbling of the matter to bring up her own people, their works, and buried your words with her own. You wonder if she would smile at you so much if she knew the anger you hold for her in this moment. If anything, you looking at her now seems to make her smile wider.

So instead you take a deep breath and think. Hard. The anger in you is burning out the alcohol anyway, or at least it feels like it has. You dredge down into the literal years of work you've put into the law revisions of Ostland, revisions that have yet to even be fully enacted, revisions of which you will not know the true results until many years down the line. Lines, laws, decisions made and overturned, as well as the notes made alongside them. A hundred judgements and more, prejudices of the writers laid bare against all a manner of folk depending on origin. Halfling, dwarf, Bretonnians, others from other provinces, those who dared to simply be from a different part of Ostland at all, up to and including those from the other side of a village. A headman's decisions within his small hamlet compared to a town's mayor to a city magistrate and judge. Right.

"I note that nothing in this," you waggle the papers held in your clenched left hand, "Says anything about dwarfs. Or ogres, for that matter."

There is something to be said about years and years of fighting experience giving you certain insights. For one, Jax was puffing himself up to ready a blistering rebuttal, or a bellowing scream, and finds himself stalled into a strangled stop. Out of the corner of your eye, the smile on Kaufmann's lips dims ever so slightly before she corrects it. She can't help her head from tilting to the side, however, not before you notice and she can fix it. Others around the room, at the table, pause and glance up at you from where they've been reading over the papers themselves. The Emperor himself seems intrigued, an eyebrow raising from where he sits, though he says nothing else.

"What?"

"Dwarfs? Dawi? You know, short folk, rather stout, lifetime friends of the Empire since the days when Sigmar walked the world?"

Jax, to his infuriating credit, manage to adjust quickly.

"If you are trying to say that my people and the dwarfs are the same, another racist implication that has been unfairly levied upon us for thousands of-,"

(76+5(Diplomacy)=81/100)

"I would never imply that halflings are the same as dwarfs," you interrupt. "They are incredibly distinct from the people of the Moot. I can say from months of fighting alongside him that High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer has no resemblance to any halfling I've ever met in my life."

To reference Karak Ungor is about as subtle as a hammer to the skull, but you aren't necessarily going for subtle at the moment.

"No, I have fought alongside halflings before, in Nordland, and am well acquainted with Lumpin Croop's Fighting Cocks. There are many a difference between your peoples, however," you lift the papers in your hand again, "Physically, there are certain similarities, at least when it comes to height. Which is where my concerns are. The moment we begin discriminating on such features, innate characteristics, we must also consider the future."

It is then that a voice that you hadn't really considered speaks up.

"What do you mean, Count Hohenzollern?"

The Grand Theogonist is leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, the very picture of a warrior priest albeit without the armor and weapons of his station. Though, now that you think about it, it makes some sense. To the Cult of Sigmar, the dwarfs are rather important.

"The moment we begin discriminating based on the races of the Empire, it means that we must think about not just the halflings, but the dwarfs as well. I see nothing about the proposed benefits being granted to them, or the ogres, and yet I think all those who have met such folk would know they too have different living requirements and preferences than simple men."

You let the papers fall onto the table, just barely keeping them from fluttering into wine glasses and plates with sauce on them.

"Your proposal is too niche, and too simplistic, mister Starbrook. It doesn't consider the differences between each of the provinces, nor their populaces."

That, he seizes upon, now outright standing in his chair and yet failing to be of height to you.

"Perhaps you would think so, but others are not so confused," he smirks.

You don't, precisely, know how they managed to time this like they did. But by the time he finishes speaking, a number of signed agreements have been shuffled his way. The one from Westerland, you expected, and at this point you can't even be sure that the Staadtholder didn't pre-sign the damn thing. But the second to reach him is from Talabecland. Adolf glowers at you even as he hands it off, and Jax nearly has to pull it out of the old bastard's gnarled hands. Talabecland is a midway point, you suppose, between Westerland and the Moot, easily connected by way of the Empire's rivers to almost everywhere else important. But he couldn't possibly have signed it just because you raised some concerns about it, right?

(Discerning: 48+14=62/100)

No. No he's a third member of what you'd thought only a duo against you, and you know it. It's far more hidden amongst the rest of the fucking 'trade package' and missing entirely from the halfling proposal. But it's there. After all these years, he still holds you responsible for Johanna's choices. After all the gold and guns and he's still holding a grudge. He's kept a death grip on it as hard as any longbeard you've ever met or could even imagine at all. Decades upon decades on this world and he's apparently chosen you as the thing to focus all of his ire on. Something will have to be done about this, but not now. You don't have the time or ability to enact it, and repeatedly punching his face until the teeth come out of the back of his head would not be well received. But you also see an agreement to the taxes made by Siegrich, which blindsides you a bit. If this has anything to do with him beating his son senseless, perhaps, but still. The fact that he doesn't look in your direction despite you near boring holes into his head with your eyes does not speak well of present matters.

"Well, if they have considered it well, then they can do as they like," you force some ease into your voice as you say it. "But the solution for Ostland would not be so quickly decided. Worry not, Starbrook," you gather the papers into a single stack and fold it up. "I will take this information back to Ostland with me, and bring it to the table there. Perhaps it will come to fruition for you after all."

The other Electors, those with provinces at least, seem willing to simply agree, though you see a hesitance in some of them. Out of all of them, yourself included, it is Ava who plays as close to 'type' as you could possibly conceive. She plainly refuses to sign any of what Starbrook has granted to her. A stalwart ally against the Undead, she also cleaves intensely close to the fiery dislike for the halflings that most Stirlanders possess. Others seem less concerned at all, with Gustav going ahead and agreeing, though he notes with an oddly out of place chortle that whether or not it would be passed will be uncertain.

(37+5=42/100)

"Similar words and promises have been spoken to me people for years uncounted," Jax sneers at you, his eyes rolling. "And never followed up on, never properly. Don't waste words, Count Hohenzollern. State your refusal plainly, and let us be done with it."

"If you really want to reform tax law across the Empire, it can't be for one people, with one policy, it-,"

"So you refuse! Very well then, let us move on," he interrupts. "If everyone else has decided yes or no on what should have been a trivial matter, let us move onto the greater issue!"

"Talabecland will accede to this trade package, for the betterment of the Empire," Adolf speaks up, his voice gruff. "Any intelligent man would do so."

"Hold on now," you almost shout, "To determine such a widespread trade policy across the entire Empire cannot be decided in a single meeting! What about time to study, to consider!"

Gunthar just snorts.

"I'll accede to it. The Fuerbach is right, it's for the betterment of the Empire as a whole, by my reckoning."

Sigmar's fucking balls!

"You reckon wrong again, Gunthar," you almost spit the words. "A cursory examination of this package reveals how unbalanced this entire motion is. A clear loss in income not just for Ostland, but for the rest of the Trident as well as Stirland."

You could hear a pin drop in the sudden silence that enters the room after that statement.

(58+5=63/100)

"I, for one, thought that the times of the Empire turning in on itself was over," you growl, tapping a finger against the large sheaf of papers. "But a cursory examination of this shows how biased it is against the northernmost Empire and Stirland."

There is a faint series of shuffling noises nearby as you spy Ortrud and Stephan suddenly leafing through the papers with a fair bit more focus than before. Ava doesn't even bother, no doubt she accepts the halflings trying to frustrate her as a matter of course.

"We have been in communications with many provinces, it is not our fault the messengers never reached you. The roads of the Empire are often dangerous," Jax says with a nonchalant shrug.

"They certainly reached Talabecland," Adolf adds, "Shouldn't have been that hard to cross the river. But then the Forest of Shadows always has been a deadly place," his spiteful tone takes an infuriatingly pained note at the end.

"The rivers might have been safer," Luise says, hands folded in her lap.

You notice how she isn't looking at anyone anymore, only down at her hands.

Now, you know that they are lying. You know for a fact that they are. But it is, most frustratingly, a believable lie. It is entirely possible for people to get lost on the road, or for a messenger bird to be caught and die from any number of issues. A starving poacher, a larger bird of prey, exhaustion, poison, a storm, and so on. There are even more threats upon the ground that could swallow up an entire column of messengers and leave no trace behind. It's happened before to armies, after all.

"Averland will sign," Siegrich speaks in a resigned voice, deadened as if he were already a corpse.

Even as you stare at him in incredulity, he simply looks ahead with eyes squeezed shut as he rubs his temples.

"Stirland will have no part in this," Ava throws down her papers in disgust. "We'll not cut our wrists simply for coin."

"Neither will Ostermark," Ortrud follows shortly after, arms crossing at her chest as she scowls at Starbrook. "I've had no words of this whatsoever."

"Neither has Nordland," Stephan murmurs with the calm a murderer holds when cornering their target. "Though, perhaps, as you say, they may have just been lost along the road, the fact of the matter is that without proper warning or consideration, I can't put my agreement behind this."

"But don't you see," Jax switches tack, "The greater whole of the Empire would benefit considerably and-,"

"Hochland will survive without such 'benefits'," Gustav shuts him down, the first words he's spoken for some time. "We have thus far, certainly." His cheery voice is lined with frost.

"I don't know if you're aware of this, mister Starbrook," you stand yourself now. "But the Northern Trident stands as one of the first lines of defense against the dark forces of the north, and have since time immemorial. The traitor Count Gruber sought to weaken Nordland, to take advantage of its disconnection from the rest of the Empire during the waning days of the Era of Three Emperors."

Stephan just glares at the halfling.

"I doubt he wishes to partake in something which could reduce the strength of his province after such an event."

"Frederick speaks the truth," Rommel speaks up, "It may benefit the southern reaches of the Empire, but to deliberately weaken the northern shield is…foolish, to say the least."

Now you know, from Ava's own words, that Starbrook was meeting with him recently. Apparently the halfing was not as convincing as he thought, going by the gaping look he tries to wipe off his face when he looks at the Prince of Altdorf.

"Count Rommel," Jax begins before the elder count raises a hand to stop him.

"No, Mister Starbrook. I have made my decision after careful consideration, as I said I would."

You hear Kaufmann trying to say something, to perhaps bring Reikland around, and so you do not let her. This has devolved, or perhaps your perception has simply changed, because this is a fight now. You refuse to grant the enemy momentum after they used it so dangerously against you in the opening moments of the bout.

(91+5+5(Votes Turned Sour)=101/100)

"Know this, if, perhaps, there were time for consideration, for study of the proposal, that all could properly participate in, perhaps there would be an agreement that could be met," you state plainly, switching your gaze between all three of the perpetrators. "Coordinating trade policy is not a bad idea in and of itself, but proposed policies should be able to answer some key questions. Can you, here and now, answer them? Any of you?"

Jax breaks first, despite the faint hand motions from Kaufmann that you spy in your peripheral vision.

"Of course!"

"Wonderful! Let us begin…now."

You bare your teeth at him after taking in a very deep breath. It is not a smile.

"Who does it help and who does it hurt – and why does this seem deliberately set against the Northern Trident?"

"It is not, it simply happens that your paranoia-,"

"A lie, or a failure on your part to properly consider the motions at hand. Something to require proper study," you interrupt. "Next question, mister Starbrook, Ms. Kaufmann, Adolf. Do those bearing a net loss gain something else now or further down the line to help offset it? Can the loss be afforded? Maybe there will be a way to offset it, maybe not."

Stephan pipes up, fingers tapping out in some unknown rhythm known only to himself along the hilt of his runefang.

"Say that this policy makes it more difficult for me to staff the coastal forts of Nordland. Who is to blame for the next time the Norscans or Drucchi carve deep into the province and possibly beyond?"

"When they pass into the rivers of the Empire, and begin slaughtering Talabeclander river barges on trade missions of their own?" You add in. "Reavers that could have been stopped had we the funds to pay the men to stop them?"

Jax flails for a moment and goes in the exact wrong direction.

"If your vaunted soldiers couldn't stop them then-,"

"Ah, so now we are to blame, no matter what," Ortrud snorts, her arms still crossed. She tosses her head to send her hair cascading over her shoulders, leaving one eye covered completely by it. "And when the undead rise in Sylvania again, and we don't have the defenses in place?"

"Oh yes," Ava hisses in Jax's direction. "What happens then, halfling?"

Kaufmann finally manages to get Jax to sit down, but it is too late.

"Of course there would be some losses sustained in the beginning, but I assure you, with time and cooperation, we could all prosper from this."

"And how many lives will be given for that time to pass?"

She does not have an answer for your question.

"I too, wish for all of the Empire to prosper," you force your voice to be more gentle rather than the raving scream you wish to direct at her. "Things like this trade proposal do not need to be based around dragging ourselves down. I cannot believe it to be so. Not after all we have done to unite the Empire once more, after so many centuries of conflict in the past. So, again, I would call for far more in depth study for this to be decided upon. As it is? I cannot, in good faith, agree to it."

"I see, good sir," she eventually responds with thinned lips, "That you will not be persuaded."

"Not here. Not now. Not like this," you shake your head, setting your beard to swaying softly.

Only then do you let yourself sit, an action mirrored by all those at the table who had begun to stand once the shouting really got going.

"Wissenland will not sign to this," Emeline calls out, causing you to whip your head around to stare at her.

Her fingers appear to be trembling from where she holds the papers in front of her.

"I may be no master of mercantile matters," she gets out through a voice choked by some emotion or another, "But I doubt that Count Hohenzollern and his fellows would speak falsely on such a matter."

For the sake of the Gods, she almost looks on the verge of tears, though she looks to be focusing her attentions on the halfling.

"I am new to my position, and yet I would hope that I have learned the lessons of my predecessors well. I would not make one of my first major decisions as Elector Countess to strike at one such as Frederick von Hohenzollern's province, after so many battles in the name of the Empire that they have fought!"

"Think, woman!" Adolf almost explodes from where he sits. "You would weaken your people in his name? If he is so mighty, then surely he could sustain-,"

"ENOUGH!"

Magnus has, at some point, stood. You must have missed it. Ghal Maraz is in his hand, held in a tight grip from where he has brought the bottom of the haft down onto the stone of the floor. A sharp crack of shattered rock punctuates his single bellowed word. Even as he does so, Logan has grabbed Gunthar by the shoulder and pulled him close so that the two can whisper fiercely between themselves.

"This ends now," the Emperor speaks with terrible finality. "Ostland, Ostermark, Nordland, Wissenland, Hochland, Stirland, Reikland will not sign. Furthermore, you have deliberately introduced a motion which would weaken the northern provinces while they shield us from a great many woes. Were it within my power, I would strike it from consideration all together, and yet, it is not. It is up for the provinces to decide, not I."

No one interrupts Magnus the Pious. No one.

"Frederick is correct. Something like this should have been brought up for consideration at this Meet, with all able to discuss and deliberate over it in time for the next, not forced to answer here and now. And yet…," his voice goes soft, demanding that everyone lean forward just to hear correctly. "It seems we must. Would any change their willingness to sign or not?"

It is then, just then, that you notice Magnus isn't looking at you. He isn't even looking at Jax, Luise, or Adolf. He is staring, in fact, at his brother. The full, awful weight of the Emperor's gaze and presence is levied upon his younger sibling. Logan does not appear to react too much, but neither is he whispering in Gunthar's ear either. There is a silent contest of wills going on, and it is one that Gunthar loses.

"Middenland would never attempt to weaken the bonds of a united Empire," he mutters, looking away. "We'll not sign this day."

Then Magnus looks at you, and you feel, rather suddenly, rooted to your seat whilst being crushed beneath the weight of a giant. He gives you the slightest of nods before looking elsewhere at the orchestrators of all of this.

"Perhaps," he speaks so softly, "You might wish to consider moving this trade proposal to the next Electors Meet, with proper communications established between the provinces? I can promise you the personal aid of my Knights Griffon to ferry such messages, to ensure they travel correctly."

He phrases it like a question, but it isn't. You know it isn't. Everyone present knows that it isn't.

"P-perhaps we should," Jax says weakly from where he has shrunk down in his deliberately human-sized chair.

It makes him look even smaller than he is.

"If…the rest of the Empire feels so, how could I disagree," is Kaufmann's response, her composure barely maintained.

Adolf just grunts and looks away.

"Very well then," Magnus says.

There is little else to be said after all of that, by your reckoning. The Electors of the Empire are quieted as children might be by an especially stern parent simply by the Emperor's silent stare. He says nothing, not for the first minute, instead looking each and every Elector in the eye, starting with his own brother. It is Gunthar who looks down first, yet again. Then Magnus shifts his gaze to Gustav, and then on and on. All over the table in no discernable pattern, always ending with the Elector, blinking, looking down into their lap, or just away in some manner or another. Then he meets your eyes, and holds you there, as if pinning you to your chair with a spear. He studies you for an achingly long minute, then seems to come to some conclusion or another without saying anything more.

"I think, perhaps, that that will be all, everyone," he speaks plainly, letting loose a faint sigh as he does so. "I would announce this now, so you may consider it as we retire and make our ways home, but the position of Reiksmarshal and Emperor's Champion have been left empty for too long."

He bows his head slightly and shakes it.

"I had hoped that it would be a more…celebratory announcement, but alas. A tournament and series of trials shall be held in the waning days of next year. A message shall be sent to all of you with more clarified details. Regardless," he breathes in deeply. "I would call this Meet to a close, barring any other major points to be brought up by any of the Electors? Anything at all?"

There is another moment of quiet as everyone begins glancing about themselves that ends when Magnus raps a knuckle against the table.

"I see."

It feels as if things have ended too soon, some Meets have lasted far longer than this, and you yourself are currently feeling strangely hollowed out and stretched too far simultaneously. Ortrud gives you a compassionate glance and half-smile as she pats you on the shoulder.

"Then I shall call this meeting to a close, and wish safe travels to all."

Gunthar almost explodes out of his chair, given how violently he gets up, while Siegrich and Rommel are close behind, muttering to one another as they go. The priests are soon up and moving as well, but even as you unsteadily begin to get up yourself, Magnus speaks again. His voice is mild, but there is a steel-bound note of command in his voice at the same time.

"Adolf, old friend. Miss Kaufmann. Mister Starbrook. Remain, would you? As the orchestrators of this proposal, I would speak with you and Frederick," he gestures for them to stay seated with one hand, and for you to do the same with the other. "I would hate for you all to leave with anger in your hearts after such vigorous…discussion."

Again, a question in shape but a command in truth. You haven't even begun to stand, still stuck to your chair by his initial look. The halfling begins to babble something but it trickles away before it can actually reach anything approaching a real denial. Magnus waits until all of the other Electors depart, though you share a glance between you and the other members of the Trident. They try to give encouragement nonverbally as best they can, but you can honestly say your attention is elsewhere. Besides which, the doors close soon afterwards. Only Gustav remains who was not asked to, and he simply nods at Magnus as he strides towards the entrance at the back of the room where he and the Emperor actually entered from.

Only then does the faint kindly smile on the Emperor's face fade.

"Let me be perfectly clear."

He strides forward, still holding Ghal Maraz in one hand. You swear you see the faintest of a blue and gold flame flickering about the head from one blink of the eye to the next. Magnus looms over all three of them, that entire half of the table where they sit isolated from you by unspoken decision.

"This. Is not. Acceptable."

The hammer of Sigmar thumps and cracks the stone where he lets the haft slam against it, but even then he does not let go. In fact, with the slight twist of his hand, the head of the hammer actually swings forward ever so slightly, causing Adolf to flinch from where he sits.

"If you must find conflict between each other, you will not do so in a manner that could truly weaken another province, not in such a manner. Badmouth each other, insult one another, shed blood through duals if you absolutely must, but this?"

He slams his hand against the papers before Jax and scrunches them up in his hand.

"No."

"Sir, if…I may," Kaufmann speaks up, wincing as Magnus shifts his imperious gaze from the halfling to her. "There will always be a loss for some in all matters of trade, it is inevitable."

"I am aware, Staadtholder," the Emperor answers, "It is the fact that you chose Ostland as the ones to bear the loss rather than a province of greater mercantile strength that is an issue. It is not a matter of self-sacrifice."

He uses his free hand to point at you.

"The man's nearly killed himself time and again in the name of the Empire, his people, and Nordland, have shed blood that would drown Marienburg in the name of the Empire. So do not even attempt to say that he should be happy to sacrifice."

Then his hand slowly sweeps over and taps her on the chin with his index finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. Something she clearly does not enjoy doing.

"If you truly wished to aid the Empire, you would have had Marienburg shoulder the burden of the 'loss', for there is no one better suited, no treasury healthier. And you know it."

Luise Kaufmann opens her mouth, but no words come out.

"You are going to leave this room, and Nuln, and you are going home, Miss Kaufmann. And you are going to tell the families that I am coming to visit them very soon. A long time ago, they convinced me that it was better that no one individual be their Elector Count due to the chaos it might cause in an Empire so newly reunited. It may be time for me to revisit that conversation with them."

All the blood runs from her face as she stares up at him, then over at you. Then, bereft of the possibility of going paler, she appears to grey slightly.

"Go," Magnus whispers to her. "Now."

She totters away, back towards the doors. Magnus, in the meantime, turns his head slowly to look down at Jax Starbrook.

"The Quinsberry Lodge has gravely overstepped, mister Starbrook. Do you understand this?"

The fat little bastard seems frozen. You, meanwhile, are wondering what in the hell the Quinsberry Lodge is.

"You are going to go back to the Moot, and carry a message of mine to them, do you understand?"

Jax has to lick his lips before speaking.

"W-what-,"

Magnus shakes his head slightly, the motion enough to silence the halfling.

"My message is this: Don't."

Then the Emperor straightens slightly.

"Go now, mister Starbrook. The Knights Griffon will escort you out."

The halfling reaches the doors just as the slower moving Kaufmann does, and the two leave together. Leaving you and Magnus alone with Adolf, who despite the reactions of his fellow conspirators appears completely unbowed and unafraid.

"And what now, Magnus," Adolf spits, "Am I to be chastised too, like a child-,"

"If you act as one, yes!" Magnus says, his volume never changing but still overrunning the words of the older man with ease. "If you act as a spiteful child, then I can do nothing less than treat you as one."

The white-haired Talabeclander snarls as he stands, hands clenched at his sides, but even with him trying to stand at his full height, Magnus still manages to loom over him easily.

"You have no right to speak to me like that!" He shouts up at Magnus, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. "I am the Grand Duke of Talabecland! I am-,"

"An old man who will never stop grieving, yes." Magnus clamps the hand not grasping the hilt of Ghal Maraz upon Adolf's shoulder.

The weight of it alone seems to make Adolf half-buckle.

"You blame Frederick for the state of your daughter, despite my words and those of the Grand Theogonist. I have realized, now, just how deep your sorrowful spite goes."

He doesn't appear to be exerting any strength at all, and yet Adolf is lowering in height, his knees weakening.

"That…thing…is not…my daughter," he speaks in a strangled hiss.

"You were one of the Elector Counts to truly believe in me as I set about restoring the Empire," Magnus says gently, "You fought with me at the Gates of Kislev. I admired you for that then, as I do now."

But then the gentleness of his voice disappears as he withdraws his hand, and with it, the force that was actually keeping Adolf upright rather than pushing him down as you expected. The Elector Count of Talabecland falls to his hands and knees at the feet of the Emperor.

"But this…cannot continue," Magnus speaks with a voice of complete authority. "You are the eldest of the remaining Elector Counts from before I took my position of Emperor, and despite ninety years of life you perform admirably in everything else asked of one in your position…save this."

"It is my right as Elector to-,"

"Yes, I know," Magnus interrupts him again as he shakes his head. "And yet…perhaps it is time that another rose up to take that position."

Adolf shudders from where he has fallen and looks up at the Emperor, some spark of defiance making his way into his face.

"You…have no right to try and-,"

"Oh, Adolf," Magnus sounds truly sad. "I know. No Emperor, no other Elector, has any right to make you abdicate. And I won't make you either."

Then he kneels, and still remains above Adolf in height.

"I don't need to," he murmurs to him, just loud enough for you to hear. "Do I?"

The Emperor straightens, and reaches down with a hand to help Adolf get unsteadily back to his feet. In that same fluid motion of cloaks and cloth, you swear that Adolf has…shrunken, somehow. Nothing appears to have changed physically, but the spiteful oak tree of a man has withered in but a few moments. When he is gently led by the Emperor towards the doors, it is not with the stoic and rough stride of you are used to, but with the speed one sees from the elders being helped down the street by their grandchildren. Then the doors shut behind him, leaving you and the Emperor alone in the room. He says nothing to you, at first, simply placing Ghal Maraz upon the table and reaching over to a random pitcher, pouring both of you a hefty foaming drink of beer. He sits upon the table itself, and proffers his to clink against and then drink. The horrible pressure of his attentions slowly lessens as he does all of this, until you finally feel as if you are no longer glued to your chair.

"I'm sorry," he eventually says.

"…what?"

"If I'd known the proposal would be so deliberately against the Trident…," he trails off, muttering something you don't catch under his breath. "Well, I didn't. And for that I am sorry that I was willing to vote for it."

"You…didn't know?"

A humorless smile is the response.

"I am, speaking frankly, reasonably good, Frederick. But I am not omniscient. I have an entire council of advisors and aides who work through such things with me. On a cursory glance, contrary to your words, it was not obvious that it was deliberately worked against you."

The statement of weakness staggers you despite the fact that you are sitting.

"But…you're…,"

"Magnus the Pious?" He raises an eyebrow. "It may surprise you to know this, Frederick, but I am not a master of every possible discipline in the Empire. It is why I have a Chancellor of the Imperial Treasury and Chamberlain of the Seal at all, to have experts on hand."

The two of you just drink for a few moments more before he speaks again with a deep frown on his face.

"The halflings did send the proposal to me, and I set it to my Chancellor to read over it. Evidently, he saw the benefit of the Empire's gain as more important than the weaknesses it might introduce elsewhere. I shall have to speak to him on this."

You don't even know how to begin properly responding to that.

"I've been focused on other things," he confides in you, "It has keep me distracted from certain internal issues…though it appears that I shall have to turn my attentions regardless."

"Other things?" You can't help but blurt out.

He pauses, mulling over his words, before shrugging.

"Yes. Preventing another Parravon War, coordinating with High King Grudgebearer on a response plan for the greenskins at Iron Rock, diplomatic overtures to Tilea and Estalia, keeping the Cult of Myrmidia from being lynched from the Empire, trying to convince your sister-in-law to give up slavery entirely, placing agents within the Border Princes as watchers for greenskin incursions, among a great many other things," he says mildly over his mug. "You might not think it, but keeping a true pogrom against the Myrmidians from materializing is among the most difficult of those tasks."

"I…am sorry, my Emperor, I didn't know."

He just shrugs again.

"It's all right. I knew the burden I would bear the moment I struck down Asavar Kul, and later took up Ghal Maraz."

The two of you share the silence and a few more drinks before he stands up from the table.

"I'm not foolish enough to think that I can quell provincial rivalries in the Empire, not even Sigmar could manage that, not entirely," he sighs as he easily lifts up Ghal Maraz once more to let it rest on one of his shoulders. "But I had hoped I would do all right. Apparently it only takes a pittance of decades for people to feel secure enough to do so once more."

"It seems like it," you agree while drinking another tankard.

"Yes, well," Magnus just shakes his head again. "I can't tell you not to retaliate against them, you are fully within your rights to do so, especially after so many insults. I've half a mind to whallop Gunthar back to Middenheim at this point."

"I wouldn't complain if you did," you say with a smile.

"No, no I suspect you wouldn't. In fact, I suspect you might just watch."

"If it pleases the Emperor to have an audience of such a beating…"

The Emperor laughs, a short bark of it that is nonetheless full of amusement and warmth.

"I think not. Not right now at least. Frederick."

"Yes, my Emperor?"

His lips purse as he looks you up and down.

"I truly do apologize. You've given more than could ever be asked, and yet only a few years later and it feels like too many have forgotten. But I haven't. I let these…petty things poke at you while I focused on the matters without for too long."

"I can take it, my Emperor, really."

"Ah, but you shouldn't have to. At least, not this much," he grunts. "I'll have to speak to some more people before this night is done." With that he begins walking away, only to pause a few steps later. "Mmm, yes, something I almost forgot," he half-turns towards you. "I wished to ask you about potentially breeding our gryphons. They are from two different nests, after all. If more could be bred...well. We can speak later on through messengers carried by the Amber Brotherhood."

"Ah…sure, of course."

"Oh, and if you believe you have someone who could hold the position of Reiksmarshal or Sword of Justice with honor and quality, please, feel free to send them south."

You are left alone in the room, then, with nothing but a mug of foaming beer as your companion. Soon, that too is gone, and you leave the Meet to find that most have departed, save for your fellow Trident members and surprisingly Count Leitdorf. In fact, it is the latter who is the most pertinent by dint of the fact that he grabs you by the shoulders as you come out and shakes you slightly. Ortrud and Stephan stand there and do nothing, simply trading shrugs with you when you glance at them in confusion.

"Frederick," he starts, then stops, coughing slightly as he releases you and steps back. "Count Hohenzollern, I would understand if you elected to cease your weapon trade with me, but if you would grant me but a moment, I can explain."

Another look, and this time your friends are nodding at you, gesturing at you to let him speak. Stephan seems more assuring than Ortrud, who is still scowling despite her apparent assent to Leitdorf's wishes.

"I'm inclined to refuse and let you stew in it, but you can have your minute," you tell him tersely.

"I had to agree to the damned halfling's proposal in exchange for lenience in another matter entirely."

"The matter that had you beating your son bloody?"

His bloodshot eyes go wide.

"How did you-,"

"Your minute is running out," Ortrud calls out from behind him.

A grimace and half second clenched teeth later and he nods and looks at you once more.

"My idiot son tried to sell several land parcels to the Moot. Averland soil," he confesses, "Among other things, and the only way for me to deny them…,"

"Was to go along with that asinine trade package?" You finish for him, unsure exactly how you are supposed to feel.

"Aye. I don't know how that short fucker got his claws into my boy, but I suspect I'll be pulling the hooks out for a while yet. I didn't even know about it until he'd agreed to the whole of it, trying to put his stamp on things."

Tiredly, he runs a hand down his aging face.

"I may be getting older, but if this was his way of showing that he could make decisions befitting an Elector Count, he certainly cocked it all up."

"Even if I were to believe you…," you murmur and he sighs.

"I know, Frederick, I know. If…you want, you can set that daughter-in-law of yours on me, see if we cannot figure out something more beneficial to you as recompense. I can at least swear to you that I won't be letting my idiot son get anywhere near things like this for years more yet."

He seems…very tired.

"We'll see what happens."

It's all you can promise at the moment. And knowing that, he stumps away, perhaps to go punch his son in the head a few more times. The non-Trident Greatswords have left, but two Knights Griffon remain by the doors. Perhaps it is their permanent posting within the Imperial Palace. Ortrud and Stephan just stand with you. Neither of them say very much, but they don't need to either. They stand with you, companions and allies both, and don't need to make any grand proclamations about it. Silently, all three of you begin moving as a group out of the palace, and it is not until the doors of that place shut behind you that anyone says anything else.

"I'm glad you were there, Frederick," Ortrud says as she draws her shoulders in against the faint chill of the air. "I didn't see it, hells I still don't."

"Huh?" You look askance at her.

"The proposal seemed fine enough to me, too," Stephan adds from your left. "It wasn't until you started poking holes in it – and that I saw Jax's reaction – that I realized how problematic it was."

Ortrud just chortles from next to you, hard enough that she ends up coughing at the end.

"Gods, I hope they never stop thinking you're an idiot," she says with a chuckle.

"I confess to having similar feelings on the matter," Stephan hums.

Incredulous, you look at one, then the other, and back again.

"Well I do! It's insulting! Every Meet, every time! I'm an engineer, damn it! Nobody respects my mind!"

"Oh, we do, Frederick," Ortrud huffs, "We do, that's the difference. Would you prefer they treat you as smart as you are?"

"I…well somewhat yes," you grunt.

"Well, that's where we'll have to disagree," Stephan shrugs.

"Such good friends you are."

"Oh come off it. It's over and done now, at least for a few years. Come over to my manse and we'll have a drink or four about it," Ortrud begins dragging you and Stephan along behind her even as she says it.

Elector's Meet Concludes:
Halfling Tax Change – Held For Consideration By Ostland
Starbrook Package – Denied For This Meet, Requiring Proper Communication With All Electors To Be Raised Again.
Reiksmarshal And Sword of Justice Positions Opened For Testing During Next Year


GM NOTE:

Honestly, I don't know, you guys. If the enemy succeeds enough at intrigue, you shouldn't very much warning. But maybe I should do Cluny-style posts from Gaius' quest to introduce enemies OOC? That's just even more to write though, on top of everything else. Pacing is an issue, IRL vs. IQT (Quest Time) seems to be a major one. I'm not sure any more. It was recently brought up in thread that this quest has been going on for several years. I didn't know what the heck I was doing then at the start, and it seems like I'm continuing to make silly mistakes now. Where's the line between not enough foreshadowing, and too much obvious hinting? I really don't want to do the latter, and yet I seem to be messing up and doing the former as well. This Elector's Meet was never supposed to go this long, I'm just feeling a bit lackluster on motivation recently. It was supposed to be quick update after update, but guess I should have planned for my own slowdown in speed. Maybe if I was able to pump these updates out faster, we wouldn't have as much time to stew and get frustrated in the meantime, waiting for my stupid fingers to twitch in the right ways and post something. I don't know. I'm not superbly happy with this update either, but then, I rarely am lately. Sorry for the wait, and I guess all my mistakes. I just don't know anymore. I'll try to get the rumor mill post up soonish. Then update the front page. I'd like to say as soon as I can, but, really, just kind of going to hope it will be soon.
 
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@torroar I'm can't find where this was brought up before, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was, or if we already had this. Does Ostland have anything like a Officer training school, or a military school in general?

Not as such, no. It's largely survivor-taught, if that makes any sense.

Seriously, this isn't fun, it's frustrating. It's grinding. It's just...awful.

I'm sorry. Hopefully I'll do better in the future. I haven't felt my best either for a while now, so that may be some factor or another, but I'll keep trying. Thanks for sticking with it this far, at least.
 
First of all: I think that yes, with our distractions and failures and grudges that yes, this could quite conceivably have blindsided us...sort of. We always knew that SOMETHING was in the works even before the warnings from our fellow Electors, but the details? Yeah, I can totally get being blindsided. No worries on that @torroar

Honestly, just as Magnus said, we're not omniscient. There isn't agency, we can't prepare for things we haven't the faintest clue of being a threat. Those who complain about this are falling into the same team as those complaining about Magnus not holding our hand.

Second: This is why we will always be second to Magnus the fucking Pious. I don't say this because he stood for us, but because he is that. Fucking. Incredible.

Third. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WE DID THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER I CANT STOP GRINNING AND LAUGHING!!!
 
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It's okay man we all make mistakes. We just got to be better.
The issue is that Torroar did what they should have. However people are complaining that our QM did the job they set out to do, which was to tell a intrigue plot that was occurring and how it blindsided the PC. Our QM is feeling like not revealing that the intrigue against Ostland is happening wasn't well done, when it was.

What was our QM supposed to do? Reveal that an intrigue plot was occuring during the Elector's Meet? They did, with the Moot, we the players don't jump to conclusions like "Talabecland is pulling intrigue on Freddy" because there are people who would immediately go "the players screwed up with Talabecland" or "This isn't fair because we aren't winning". (Sabine's spy network is still in progress as in it is non existent, Natasha is a diplomacy specialist, but if people won't talk to her, and if her connections are mostly limited to the north, and if the intrigue plot was kept to a hidden lightning strike...)

There are also those people who just want to complain that the Talabecland diplo action was stupid, and obviously a bad decision.
 
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Well whatever happened I think it was handled well, and as it should have been.

Frustrating as it is, thems how it goes, although that may just be because we did well so I'm not upset...

Ah the human mind its a weird thing.

Regardless Torroar certainly did nothing wrong. My only consideration is if we had a more intrigue focused character then hints would have been appropriate. We're not so...yeah.

Regardless all seems to be well and we get to see why the Prestige score is such a potent tool again...
 
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Hey man. Dont feel so down. This is a great quest. Enemies should frustrate you. If they didnt you are messing up. People ,me included were pissed at the halfling be cause the previous elder was awesome.
 
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People have forgotten that life is a struggle in the end in Warhammer. You did nothing wrong @torroar . I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I'm happy this happened, but that's just because it's bad stuff happening, and I can deal with that.

People are illogical. People are odd. People aren't (partially) driven by a group of people from a different culture and can coldly judge things from behind a computer screen.
 
Frederick and Magnus are really similar to one another, I just noticed.

Both have fought for the Empire and the people who live in it, both have sacrificed more than they should have and both are willing to go as far they can go to protect the people they care about.

The only difference is that one is an Elector Count and one is an Emperor.

Also, Magnus is really deserving of the title 'the Pious'. The way he silenced the Counts like that of a gentle priest calming down a child. I love it.
 
So, we're going to have to ask Moro or Hagrid about the Lodge, aren't we?

Also, HA! Marienburg's fate is much less ambiguous. Gird your loins, servants of the Empire: Magnus the Pious is going on an adventure.
 
"You are going to leave this room, and Nuln, and you are going home, Miss Kaufmann. And you are going to tell the families that I am coming to visit them very soon. A long time ago, they convinced me that it was better that no one individual be their Elector Count due to the chaos it might cause in an Empire so newly reunited. It may be time for me to revisit that conversation with them."
Yes! Do it Magnus! Do it!
Magnus shakes his head slightly, the motion enough to silence the halfling.

"My message is this: Don't."
YES!
"You…have no right to try and-,"

"Oh, Adolf," Magnus sounds truly sad. "I know. No Emperor, no other Elector, has any right to make you abdicate. And I won't make you either."

Then he kneels, and still remains above Adolf in height.

"I don't need to," he murmurs to him, just loud enough for you to hear. "Do I?"
YEEEEEEEEEES!

That was so damn satisfying and well worth the wait. The crisis is dealt with, now Intrigue and Diplomacy options can follow.
 
Personally I think you did a good job here. Narratively speaking it made sense for them to get the drop on us, as it also made sense for them to underestimate Freddy's intelligence, enough so that he could turn the tables on them.

From a questing point of view it's a little less clear cut, but I still think you went about it the right way. More interludes wouldn't do the pacing any favours, and as annoying as it is being on the receiving end of a successfully hidden intrigue plot it's still fun to read and participate in a quest where you know stuff like this can happen.

As much as it might sting knowing there's things out of our control, that's something we have to accept, and IMO it's not on you to coddle us in that respect. I've heard of quests where they took away too much of the players agency, but I don't think you're anyway near that point. As big a world as this is the more stuff that happens independent of Freddy the more fleshed out it feels.

TL: DR I think you handled this Meet well, and I certainly wouldn't mind if you did more intrigue related stuff in the future.
 
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"Yes. Preventing another Parravon War, coordinating with High King Grudgebearer on a response plan for the greenskins at Iron Rock, diplomatic overtures to Tilea and Estalia, keeping the Cult of Myrmidia from being lynched from the Empire, trying to convince your sister-in-law to give up slavery entirely, placing agents within the Border Princes as watchers for greenskin incursions, among a great many other things," he says mildly over his mug. "You might not think it, but keeping a true pogrom against the Myrmidians from materializing is among the most difficult of those tasks."
Huh, this is interesting. Wonder if Karaz Ankor Rumors will have anything about this involving the Great Throng.

In any case, looks like that plot's been solidly de-fanged. Aside from what's going on in Marienburg, the Moot, and Talabecland though, I do wonder what's going to happen in Middenland with Gunthar now. The last Elector Meet had Dolph, this one had well... all of this.
 
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Yeah, this was a great example of a long build up coming into fruition...and than a good plan, good luck, and experience/character development handling it in a believable manner.

With how much like an old bear Frederick can be the fact his anger is still there always seesaws between surprising and nostalgic.
 
Honestly, while I can't say that I know how this could've been resolved properly - from a writer and/or reader perspective - I can say that I think you handled the entire thing quite well, @torroar. It might not mean much, I know, but I really think you handled it in the best way possible from start to finish.

The problem simply is, I think, a mismatch of expectations and also simply that you cannot please everyone all the time.
 
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