OOC: This Friday (25 March 2022) at 11:30 PM EST at Malwith’s Inn Bar (#10386), I will be kicking off a NEW monthly series in Ta’Vaalor that I am calling “Informal Fireside Forums in and around the Fortress.” Every month I will invite a special guest speaker to a rotating location in Ta’Vaalor to help educate Ta’Vaalor dwellers on the current poltical, economic, cultural, and historical trends of another place beyond the walls of the Fortress.
For the last two years, I’ve brought Ta’Vaalor to the world (or at least Iskandr’s warped Ta’Vaalor ideals), but now I hope to bring the world to Ta’Vaalor to help teach eastern-folk what’s out there and to help us better understand the realms beyond our domain. Kegs will still be present, and we will generally be in a bar, so the discussions—while structured—will be like a good bar chat on a heady topic.
Our first guest, coming off his latest grilling of various candidates for the Landing’s recent Town Council spot, will be the Faendryl Yardie, who open our eyes to myriad Landing politics, recently goings on in the West and the Four Winds, and on the exact date the Spire intends to unleash its demon-summoning might upon us (he might not answer that question).
These events are open to Legion and non-Legion alike and will focus on many topics from across the world, from how global events relate to fortress politics to whatever topics our speakers care to elucidate and illuminate us with. Future months will bring guests from other parts of the realm, as long as they can stay awake late. :-P
And no worries Saturday events will continue on as always. There will be no pause to drunken chaos.
((Fictional Justifications Below))
IC:
Iskandr Tamarack idly flipped his cigar cutter’s drakar element on and off in his hand, more focused on watching the strange gnomish gears whirls inside the glaes and the hot red fire they produced than on listening to the person at the desk in front of him within a nondescript office in Guardian Keep. The man at the desk in front of him appeared humbled by years of book keeping but still looked stout enough to defend the walls of Ta’Vaalor beyond his comically thick reading glasses. Attacking orcs would probably be easier to see than columns on a list of trade goods import and export costs.
The man might have been speaking for some time, but Iskandr hardly noticed until… “Squire Legionnaire Iskandr Tamarack Vaalor?”
Iskandr shook off his boredom induced daze. “Huh…” He realized he’d been far too informal with such a high-ranking accountant. “I mean, sir, huh, sir...also, sir, might I add, I prefer going by Iskandr Tamarack…”
The man at the desk sighed. “One hundred years of service and one can see how you’re still a squire.” He turned through a few more pages of his ledger. “I am going through these receipts here, and I’m unsure of why I should be paying for any of this.” He thumbed further the various pages, many stained odd colors from things he’d rather not ponder deeply. “You hosted some ship regattas? Drinking parties? Ran up a huge tab at…let me read through this again…a cheering section at the Bloodriven Arena in which you gave away a pricey dress and a knife that makes snowballs?”
Iskandr nodded along. “Sir, that knife stayed within Legion so….” He gave up on his current path, it wasn’t going to matter. “…anyway, I’ve generally paid for the alcohol through my own assets, I’m just asking for a bit of support on the rental front and some of the other costs in organizing these events. I have porters too that assist my efforts…”
The man lowered his glasses to look Iskandr directly in the eyes. “If I may be so frank, I just don’t see the point in all this. Why in the realms does the Legion send you out abroad to gallivant around and host parties?”
Iskandr threw on his charming smile and shrugged. “Good-will building, sir?”
A shake of the head showed the man’s disapproval, while a roll of his eyes demonstrated his thoughts on Iskandr’s sanity. “We’re not paying for any of this. This hasn’t done a damn thing to help the Legion, you’re wasting our time out there, Squire. What do you do for the Legion HERE in Vaalor?”
Squire Legionnaire Iskandr Tamarack sat across from First Legionnaire Aureliano Tiberius Vaalor at a table in the Crimson Raven, Iskandr listening with far more open ears than the accountant he’d been berated by earlier in the day.
Aureliano offered his insights after hearing of Iskandr’s travails. “Many don’t see value in what you’re doing out there. I do. Intelligence is, of course, important. But by its nature not everyone sees that which you are providing. There's an issue of what is politically useful to you. It's not merely your specific command chain that judges you.”
He took a sip from his drink and continued. “That man had a point. You really SHOULD think about what you can do and being more visible here. I value your contributions outside the walls, but it’s hard to quantify, and your current efforts look bizarre to many in the Keep. Perhaps bring some of what you’ve learned back to us?”
Iskandr nodded his head but his mind raced to ponder what Aureliano’s suggestion could possible entail. What in the gods was he going to do?
((OOC: Special thanks to Aureliano for looking over his part in all this and offering some feedback on making him more Aureliano-y :-P ))
-Iskandr
