"Fog?  Screams?  I have no much weakness.  I'm blind...." Crimson grinned from ear to ear.  "OH HELL YEAH!  I'M NOT IMPAIRED TECHNICALLY!" he roared and jumped for joy.  

(Ah, indeed it would seem like it, my bad.  Thank you Time.) 

"I'm not too sure there is a hint of nobility to this air.  Maybe it's just me." Crimson chimed in and told Heaven.  

As Crimson listened to the tale, his breath became shaken and part of his clothes caught on fire.  "Of all things to happen...what kind of Kingdom would be established just to fall to mere mortals...I spit on your graves for letting such a simple problem be fixed...a god does not die easily.  Nor does a Kingdom chance in a day.  You failed to uphold your duties.  You could have changed all of that.  If I were in your place, then..." Crimson stopped himself and cursed the earth he walked.  "Your walls of prosperity failed due to sudden change and loss of a great power.  Why wasn't there a reserve plan in case such thing happened?" he said, questioning the noble.  
 

Heaven seems to have noticed to have catch her self for a moment, and smiles, "Thank you, sir, we'll visit King Prospero now. We will learn much more of your 'hard-won lives'." She nods.

She turns around to face Crimson, "The theory to your answer is that they let it happen. Participated in the 'transitioning of power' if you know what I mean." She says, trying to avoid more confrontation than what just happened; making a snide comment was enough for her, "We should try to learn of it more in detail by traveling inside, yes?"

Crimson clenched his jaw and nodded.  "Right...lead the way..." he told Heaven...

Masses of shadow are willed around the water, binding it into the room. The already dark interior darkens almost infinitely more as the shadows begin to writhe and drip, moving to seal the hole Ark had punched into the cell. Occasionally a gray flame will flicker into life and sear at the water to cease it from moving a direction. A stark white grin appears for a moment, as Dust appears to will shut the prison from Ark's intrusion. Its presence soon disappears again, but it's clear that whoever it's holding prisoner, Dust really doesn't want to let out. Which obviously means that Ark should definitely release the water-horse-person-creature.

Heaven particularly didn't like how Crimson was boldly acting in the presence of a king, but hey, what you gonna do? Better than pulling out a sword for sure.

Heaven goes down to one knee one that seems perfect and rehearsed many times over, it had been done with a sense of respect, rather one of submission, "Greetings, King Prospero. Our travel went along well, there was nothing to worry about. My name is Heaven Dean, representing The Clocktower." she nods to Crimson from her position, deciding to fill the king in on some more info to the newcomer, "Crimson here is a new deity to these lands. He is a deity of judgement."

Upon first glance, she took particular interest in the king's scar, and his blotched out forearms and hands. It subtly reminded her of her own patron deity's unique arm.

"I thought so as well, King Prospero," Heaven responds in agreement with him, "It was Crimson who wished to accompany us. Maybe he wishes to learn more about Forengard." Whether her explanation of why Crimson around was true or not, she still gave it as an excuse for the actual pressing matters, which they'll have to get to by some point.

"We came to Anatina to not only assess the situation, but also learn of its new monarch. Who he is. It's unexpected for a man to appear suddenly and be able to assume power."

"Say, on learning more of the new monarch, I did not expect your appearance. And I mean this in no disrespect. Rather, I mean it to be one of respect. I expected one to be regally sat upon the throne, and yet I find your highness to be directly involved with the next step of your nation. Same goes for your physical appearace. The scar upon your face, and the markings upon your arms, commitment and sacrifice to your nation reflected upon you, yes?"

Last edited by Time (January 21, 2023 19:37:17)

"You aren't the first to think these things, but I am not in the habit of indulging comments of my appearance. The long and short of it is I have experienced my share of the world, and this is the price I pay for the knowledge and wisdom I carry. It is as you say. I have sacrificed much in the name of the kingdom." The king's warm expression remained unchanged, the sharp little exhale he let out indicated his feathers had been ruffled a little. Prospero was used to people speaking to him with a little more tact. Even the nobles, old friends of his, would have a quaver in their voice as they hemmed and hawed over what they really wanted to say to him. Heaven's directness was refreshing, but also incredibly annoying.

"I cannot blame you, or the pantheon, for being curious," he went on. "It may seem that was a sudden and unexpected transition of power, but it is quite the opposite, actually. I am the son of King Prospero I, so the throne is in fact my birthright. I was, shall we say, indisposed for many years due to one of our neighbors holding me captive. But I'd rather not talk about that with guests. Needless to say, it was a very tumultuous period of my life. I eventually made my escape and returned to Anatina to find my mother, the queen, had perished some years before and a charlatan had taken her place. He refused to peacefully abdicate when I first sought an audience with him. His monster of an advisor nearly kicked my skull in," he chuckled. "But I was approached by a group of deities and their allies who offered their assistance. I understand that they are not viewed favorably by many, but they are deities nonetheless, no? With their aid, I was able to reclaim the throne. Call it divine right."

The guards returned, each carrying a chair. They were all wildly different from each other, as if they had simply grabbed the nearest one they could find. They placed them in a circle around the group. Except in Huck's case, where the guard, carrying a spindly-looking wooden barstool, awkwardly shuffled away as they realized it wasn't needed. 

Speaking of Huck, the Bushbeast was attempting to establish a telepathic connection with Heaven and Crimson. He didn't do this often, and it had taken him several minutes to even remember how, so his best effort amounted to feeble poking at their consciouses and hoping for the best.

 

"Overall, if he does say he has a true birthright to his throne, then it's obvious that he should keep it. On the simple basis of birthright, though." Heaven replies, "But, birthright does not mean everything, of course. True motives are much more important."

"Ah, divine right." Heaven nods with a small glimpse of a smile, "From an unfavorable group of deities. You could say that now, Anatina does not have the blessing of Ishmael, but rather these 'unsavory deities'. Wasn't Ishmael a deity who happened to stay loyal to this country for a long, long time? You decided to trade his blessing for these new deities?"

This is who I saw when I rescued the mortal. I am sure of it. Huck's "voice" was spotty, like speaking with a bad connection over the phone. I have decided I do not like him. He is like rot.

The king sat down on his chair, a large plush armchair that looked like it had been taken from a library or a study. He sat quite informally, slouched to one side with his arms crossed over his torso. By some miracle, the crown remained on his head. "I understand that Ishmael took great interest in this area, and Anatina in particular. I hold the pantheon in high esteem, but I believe even the gods can be wrong. I do not agree with his actions or the conditions under which peace was brokered with our neighbors. It was tenuous at best, and relied heavily on Anatina's ability to produce a surplus of food for the region. At best, we still could have been invaded by a kingdom who wanted our agricultural bounty to themselves. I believe the only reason that did not happen was because of Ishmael's allegiance. An attack on Anatina would have been in defiance of the will of a god. I've been told by my historians that an attempt was made to do exactly that while Ishmael still resided in Anatina, and that he-- well, to be polite we'll say he 'dismantled' as it's quite grisly business to be honest with you-- the entire army by himself." At this, he made eye contact with Huck for the first time. "There hasn't been a Bushbeast seen in Anatina since then. I'm sure your appearance here today was a shock to many. I hope they treated you well, your species is somewhat of a local legend."

Huck shifted uncomfortably where he stood, the same overwhelming sense of unease flooding his senses as it had with the people outside, sharp and twisted and wrong like the poison afflicting the man he had taken to the Clocktower. He couldn't help the small growl that rumbled in his throat. 

King Prospero looked... smug? "Anyways," he continued casually, "with Ishmael gone, all the work he's done in the region has very little weight, including the blessing placed on the farmland that allowed us to produce crops at the rate we needed to. We no longer have the protections and assurances in place to keep us safe. His blessing was not traded so much as replaced. It's what needed to be done to ensure the longevity of Anatina."

"Look how he sits upon that so-called throne.  Royalty like him needs a proper throne.  Or at least sit in a chair like that with more dignity among unknown guests.  I have a horrid feeling that he's not an actual king.  A real one would always have company welcome at a moments notice, unless there was a dire emergency.  At least, this is speaking from my personal experiences.  I can understand why you see him as rot, I see him more as a code.  Always hiding something important."  Crimson removed his swords scabbards and set them on the floor next to a chair and sat down and placed his hands in his lap and watched the king, almost smugly saying to him "If you were a king, you should be acting like one." 

"With all due respect king Prospero, why would you consider a pantheon of gods having the ability to lie or be wrong?  Most see reason far beyond that of mortal men.  Sure they could be wrong, but I would never doubt the ability of the gods themselves.  Toying and accusing them of such things can provide a horrible price to pay.  We already had something like that happened back in Arithnia, and I can't say the same will happen to you, but I would be careful of the words you choose."  

The shift in tone of his guests didn't go unnoticed by the king. In fact, his eyes lit up as he leaned forward. Now they were getting somewhere. "In a show of good faith I am choosing to ignore you insulting my ability to lead in my own throne room." Prospero's tone was calm and even, but the stare he gave Crimson was practically venomous. "I am not going to sit here and pretend that I know every machination of the pantheon. I have deep respect for deities. I cannot imagine the responsibility they carry. However, to blindly follow and accept their actions as always being the right one is foolishness. It is healthy to question those in power over you. I expect it of myself, and the people I serve under the crown. It may be difficult to accept from an outside perspective, but I am doing what I must to protect the kingdom. I am well aware the history of the Corrupted Deities is unpleasant. I find them to be a necessary evil. Without their aid, I would have been unable to reclaim the throne, and even now they protect the area."

"Your people are too sick to question," Huck rumbled, his lip curling in disgust. "You--" He seemed to be struggling for words in his anger, and his voice sentence into a frustrated snarl. The people are sick, the soil is sick, the nobles are not. He said to Heaven and Crimson. He feels sick, but he is not.

For the first time, Prospero looked genuinely caught off guard. "I wasn't told your kind could speak," he managed to say while his mind rapidly started putting pieces together. There was obviously a reason they were here beyond a simple diplomatic meeting. What had the Bushbeast told the others? What did it do to Felix after it dragged him underground... was he still alive?

He stood abruptly, is gaze passing rapidly around the group of mages before him. "If you do not have any further questions, I must regretfully cut this short. As you said, my people are sick, and I have many urgent matters to attend to in order to try and find a remedy."

The darkness shackling Figura suddenly closes around the water spirit like a hand closing around a golf ball. Will courses through the shade of the building, clearly in anticipation of whatever Ark plans to do with those glowy magic rune circles.

"Necessary evil? They waged a war on the Pantheon and have murdered countless mortals. "Heaven's tone is calm and controlled, but her eyes are filled with fire.

Taking what Huck didn't say, but what communicated to them, she continues, "You say your people are sick, that is true enough, we saw it ourselves on the way. But we also saw swaths of dejection, of poverty, of destroyed stalls and rotting remains of buildings. Yet we did not see a single guardsman or laborer working to help clear the rubble. But as soon as we passed behind your palace walls we see nobles fattened with decadence." She stands straight, staring into the King's eyes, "Forgive me for my brash, but in my opinion, what I saw was neglect of your people and kingdom."

-----

"HEY!" A voice shouted, coming from one of the guards, particularly the one of the ones closest to the king. The guard walked out of line, fully facing the group and stood now more between the diplomats and the throne, "Don't ever treat the royal highness~ with thats sorta disrespect!" He said 'royal highness' in a more sing-songy voice, as if joking about, and as if really he actually didn't care about any disrespect to Prospero.

The guard sounded eerily like Time, and though his face was covered by a helm, one could clearly see indistinguishable orange eyes, pupils shaped like hourglasses.

Last edited by Time (January 25, 2023 00:27:27)