Inside is enormous, again spacial magic is in play. Great tall pillars not more than five meters apart rise up to meet the high ceilings, behind each pillar is the banner of HouseGodbourne but across the room is the biggest banner of all, the Godkinimperialbanner, the floor is covered in a blood-red carpet that stretches the whole of the room, there are paintings of past Kings and Emperors of the Godkin line, cupboards of wood and glass that ascend high near to the ceiling,they are filled with drink of different vintage from different eras, atop the ceiling there is a large dazzling chandelier brought to produce light through a rune spell enchantment. A voice speaks out in greeting "Gentlemen!, welcome!". Lord Dorran Godbourne is a middle aged man of some fifty years, dark of hair, grey of eyes, light of skin, tall with a healthy gut but still somewhat handsome, he wears a simple long shirt and braies that has natural coloured linen, he also wears a well made tunic, the tunic has a round neckline and long sleeves cut in one with the garment; it is loose fitting but girded at the waist, his left hand's fingers are aswim with rings of gold, Silver and diamond and one has the sigil of House Godbourne. In his youth he had been a fierce young Knight, a Magi who wielded spacial affinity magic, a common trait in the Godbourne line, but unique in his mastery of thirdgrademagic. His smile shows in his eyes seeming sincere and kind as he welcomes them. "My lord, it's an honour" the prince says as they shake hands firmly "I hope your journeys was not too straining, especially in the snowwaste, with the iceraiders assaulting many an honest merchant in the icelands", "Not in the slightest my lord, we came with a rather large and heavily armed envoy, our passage was optimal" the baron concludes with a grin. "Ah, splendid" the warlord says, chuckling. He gestures to pairs of cushions and couches arranged on the other end of the office. Upon taking their seats, serving men enters through the door, serving a cooled beverage of golden wine from theColonyofNazaarion, with honeyed cookies, fresh from the oven and soft grilled pork chops, hot and greasy. "Now my lords, let's get to business, I received a teleport from your father, Deltmire, he tells me how dire the business with the mountain clans has become. It was in my belief that the mountainmen could command no great power to threaten us of higher civilization" the warlord says sipping his wine. "It might have been so, my lord, a year ago, but now the Clan chiefs have united in common cause against us, led by the VolkmanChieftain; Sharad, theSkintaker they call him, a savage warrior whom has taken two uncles from me already. "Yes, I heard about that tragedy." the pluranlord says, his voice heavy with remorse.
'The Battle of Princefall', the Vor'rossi named it, the two Evarlar Princes; Turion and Edlon, brothers to theVor'rossiKing commanded the bulk of the invading army sent by the King into the mountains to clear out the mountain folk who sought to expand their borders from the mountains in cause of food shortages in their lands. The princes succeeded, breaking the bulk of the mountain horde, they drove their savage foes back into the mountains. But the ever hot-blooded Turion Evarlar sought more than their mere victory. Under his command he led the Vor'rossi host into the pale passage believing the mountainmen too weakened to stop the advance of an army 70,000 strong. He was wrong, the mountain clans fell on them with a number never boasted in history by the mountain folk, the Skintaker had united the clans. Those whom survived claim Sharad led 50,000 men down on them, others say it was more. The defeat had turned the tide of the war between Vor'ros and the Mountain clans. With that victory they had pressed their advantage, sweeping through what petty forces the Vor'rossi had left in the PoinProvinces, in this savage charge a third of the Poin was taken by the mountain clans. The mountainmen established themselves north of the poin. Emboldened, no force Vor'ros had mustered proved able to take back the territory.
Baron Lucas sips his wine and speaks softly "May the god's rest their souls, they were mine own kin too." The Baron hails from a younger branch of House Evarlar, he stands a second cousin to the King and his late brothers. "The Mountain clans taking the Poin is just the beginning my lord, the third of the Poin taken by them includes the Dennymar Bridge, a bridge made by our forebears and your Emperor's, to better promote trade between our two nations, but this is an opportunity for the clansmen I think, they might launch raids on your outter lands, assaulting your smallfolk and such." his sudden silence allows the possibility to dawn on the pluran lord "Yes, that is a possibility and a troublesome one given that the ice raiders continue to persist in the north. A mountain invasion into the empire would be… unwanted" he says as he takes a bite of pork. "So you see, my lord" the prince urges, a glimmer in his eyes now a path to a possible alliance presents itself "An alliance between our countries is necessary, the mountainman scourge have plagued us for far too long, but with our might combined we shall lay waste to Fortwit and bring the mountains under rule". "And who would rule the mountains when it has been taken, prince?" The prince is taken aback, he stutters. "Fortwit is in the north and if I remember correctly one of the Griffin's titles is 'Absolute Sovereign Of The Kingdoms Of The North', Your house have a claim on all northern territories. If Fortwit is taken, well." He smiles, which speaks for the rest of his thought. "Yes, your reason is understandable. But we did not come here only for alliances that would benefit Vor'ros alone." The baron says sagely. "What are you proposing, my lord?", "A marriage of course", "A marriage?" The warlord asks his brows raised. "Indeed, a royal marriage between Godkin and Evarlar". "Between whom?", "I and the Princess" Deltmire says, his voice thick with resolve. The pluran lord stares at them dumbfounded for a moment, then he laughs. He stops, sips his wine and laughs again before finally stopping realising this is not a jest "Forgive me" he says in seemingly genuine apology. "A marriage between yourself and the Princess?, my lords The Empire is currently under the reign of Emperor Torrik IV, the emperor has three children two sons and a daughter as you know, Princess Kethuen, his eldest. It is said she is to one day be betrothed and later wed to her brother; Prince Ronvar, the heir to the High throne of the empire. Now my lords, above all else House Godkin values Purity of blood, the last time a member of the imperial family married outside their line was near on two centuries passed, they won't agree to this match I'm afraid." "They will." Affirms the baron. "Why would they?, I am sorry, I don't mean to insult you and yours, but your family's affinity is of the elemental class, yes?" he doesn't wait for an answer "The Godkins are light itself, elemental affinities are looked down upon by their…" beginning to sound angry he stops himself, and breathes. "My lord we didn't cross leagues of country only to bring words and proposals" the baron says at last. "we came with proposals aye but also with promises. My lord your Empire stretches to most of eastern O'tmook, the largest nation it is said to be, you have military power, magical power, influence and riches but would you stop there, my lord?" Lord Dorran eyes the baron in intrigue and sips his wine along with a few bites of the pork, he's calm again. "Go on my lord." he says, now invested in what lucas has to say. "This might be the time not just to establish ties with the royal House of Evarlar but as well to establish yourselves northward. We are the Griffins, we can make that happen. You wouldn't need war and sacrifice". "What are you proposing?" "Isn't it obvious?... A joined rule".