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"Sweeten the Deal"
Date: October 29, 2001 (Aether: February 22, 3909)
The Pantheon - Haven: The Pantheon is enjoying its usual afternoon bustle -- it is a popular meeting-place for merchants and businessmen who negotiate deals here over a hot cup of kaffe or spiced ambrosia. To many, the real heart of Haven's commerce beats within these frescoed walls, rather than out in the tents and stalls of the Rialto. The various races mingle rather freely here, but they tend to be of a more well-dressed set; the seamy underworld of Haven is confined to the western docks. When these patrons barter, scheme, and manipulate, they're at least 'civilized' about it. An Empyrean is seated over at a round table near the center of the room. He does not look the part of some paunchy, well-fed merchant, nor a weasel-eyed juris consulo. Perhaps a Guard, enjoying an off-duty drink. But the purple stripe decorating his chiton disproves that notion, as do the black-clad Schola lingering near the entrance of the Pantheon, keeping a sharp eye on their charge. As ever, they are here to protect the Aegian from possible danger. The Aegian, though, is just waiting for his guest to show up. Gabriel glances at the door again and takes another sip of ambrosia. At the appointed hour, the door opens to admit the wide bulk of an Atlantean figure. Unaccompanied - or perhaps he has left his guards just outside the door - Raijin steps across the threshold with his hands folded behind his back. He does not venture far before he comes to a halt, chin lifting up slightly so that he may observe the various people already seated. It is not long before Gabriel Augustin is espied. He begins to approach with a calm and even stride, and once a polite distance is reached, he inclines his head. "Blessings of Pure Water, Dominus Augustin. It's a pleasure to see you again," the Seneschal intones. "And to see you looking well in health." As he is addressed, Gabriel scoots back his chair and rises, offering a cordial bow of his head. Whatever his ordeal may have been at the hands of the Emperor's prison guards is not readily apparent; he looks little changed. Perhaps a touch leaner, and there is a slightly darker hue to his wings, which may have been caused by neglect. His courtesy remains intact. "Ave, Seneschal. Thank you. I'm pleased you could meet with me on such short notice." He gestures to the seat opposite his. "Please, sit." He spies one of the passing waitstaff and gestures him over with a nod of his chin. "What will you have?" "Thank you," Raijin replies as he pulls out a seat across the table, and as he sinks his weight down upon it, he glances up at the server. "Lluora, if you please," is his only request, before he relaxes against the chair. His hands are folded in the hollow of his lap, and he turns bright blue eyes upon the Empyrean. "It's a pleasure to meet with you, Dominus. A change of scenery every now and then is quite a relief. The Citadel can grow tiresome after awhile." His smile is but a faint flicker, before he adds, "I assume that you wish to discuss the changes to the treaty I have so recently sent out to the nations' governments." "Aye," Gabriel answers with a faint smile as he reclaims his seat, wings settling easily against his back. "And I suspect you don't have to be a mind-reader to know that." The smile remains a few moments, but it gradually fades in favor of a more serious expression, and Gabriel steeples his fingers, manner contemplative. "I did read over your treaty," he comments. "Have you heard back from any of the other governments yet?" The server, meanwhile, dips his head in a nod and hastens off to fulfill Raijin's request. The server is given only a passing glance before Raijin's attention fully centers itself upon the Empyrean. "The Varati government had been in contact with me some time ago about proposed changes after our gathering within Delphi. Since then, there has been nothing," he states in a subdued tone of voice. If he is annoyed, dismayed or pleased by the turn of events, he shows no sign of it. He keeps very little in his expression, though his eyes remain bright and alert, his mind remains open to the mood of the Empyrean man and to those of the patrons around him. "I am to assume, then, that the Varati government did not agree to the terms of your treaty," Gabriel remarks. "Judging by the fact that this latest copy was a revision." He falls quiet again; he apparently answered his own question, and does not wait for a response. "I noticed in the treaty, dominus, that you stipulated that any government that withdraws from the treaty will cede its embassy over to Haven. Many of us have businesses, homes, and families here. What if one government decided to dictate its own terms?" His gaze lifts. "What is to stop one of the other nations from taking over Haven completely?" The questions are mulled over for a brief time. Raijin's webbed fingers begin to idly drum against each other, but his gaze never wavers from the Empyrean's face. "One government cannot dictate its own terms and expect that the others shall fall in line. Delphi does not expect this to happen. I have put forth these proposals so that they may be negotiated and discussed. What is to stop one government from taking over the city completely? Well, Dominus, I imagine that if Khalid Atar decided to turn Haven into a volcano, there is precious little short of a miracle that could be done to stop him. But if we do not take this into account, it will take the unified efforts of the remaining races to preserve Haven's neutrality. Delphi is a force to be reckoned with, let me assure you, and we are quite capable of defending the city's borders for a time. However, if Delphi stands alone, that does not serve the purpose we hope to achieve, which is reunification." "I think..." begins Gabriel slowly, "that Delphi's chances would be better if it had at least one solid supporter behind it. Haven is one city, whereas the other governments can command fleets and armies. But they would be less likely to make a threat if they knew that they would be up against a far greater force than Delphic mages alone." He leans forward over the table and drops his voice to a more discreet level, so that it would go unheard amidst the usual tavern prattle, by anyone save Raijin. "I think we can help each other, dominus. I can try to get solid backing for Delphi from the Empyre, but I would have a much greater chance if the... incentive were a little sweeter. Haven is an affluent city. Perhaps some of that wealth could be, ah, re-distributed." There is a terribly long moment of silence as Raijin stares rather flatly at the Empyrean. Quite gruffly he clears his throat, and his posture stiffens just slightly, but when he speaks his voice is so low that it might almost be difficult for Gabriel to hear. "Perhaps, Dominus. There exists a possibility of ... making a few allowances here and there. Though before I begin to take a second look at Haven's financial situations, I'd appreciate hearing a few more details." Gabriel eases back in his chair, and a minor rustle sifts through his wings before they fall into stillness. Perhaps he is relieved, although little indication of it crosses his expression. He is merely thoughtful. "The Empyre conducts a lot of trade through this city. Haven imposes a tariff on that trade for its own upkeep -- but perhaps if it reduced that tariff, the Empyre might be well-compensated for its assistance. Winter is a difficult time, dominus. There are many who would appreciate any little bit of aid during these leaner months." Another pause of thoughtful, contemplative silence, and slowly, Raijin cants his gaze away towards the server who returns with his lluora. He does not speak until the man has left them alone again, and as his hand reaches out to take up the glass, his eyes fall upon the Empyrean's visage. "That does not sound like an entirely unreasonable suggestion, Dominus," he eventually says. "These times have been very difficult on every citizen of Haven as well. If a reduced tariff would help the Empyre to focus its attention beyond the suffering of its own, then something can surely be arranged that would be satisfactory to both Delphi and the Empyre." Gabriel nods and takes a sip of his own neglected ambrosia. "I am pleased to hear that," he responds. "I do wish to see Haven's sovereignty restored. I have always believed in the importance of this city, and I hope this meeting will not make you doubt my sincerity." His gaze settles on the Seneschal's, level and steady. "But I also know my people, and they are more motivated by greed than ideals. They'll back Delphi only if they can be promised a definite stake in it. I will do my best to make them see the merits in this agreement." He downs another sip before replacing his goblet on the table. "I can make you no promises yet, Seneschal. And nor can you, I'd wager. But will you give me your word -- your oath -- that if I am able to convince the Aegis to support Delphi, that the Empyre will have its reduced tariffs, as we discussed?" "If the Aegis will support Delphi, then the Empyre shall have its reduced tariffs as we discussed. This I swear," Raijin states, never blinking as the words are uttered. There is then a gentle pulse of thought from his mind, a ring of conviction that this man means what he says. These are times of negotiation. This is but one price that shall have to be paid. He draws a deep breath afterwards and makes every effort to maintain the facade of stoicism as he wears, and he takes a long draught from his cup. It is drained almost in one shot, and what little remains is set down with a quiet thud. "Thank you," replies Gabriel, satisfied. The promise alone may have done it, but that ensuing pulse-beat of thought only cemented his resolve. He, too, drains the last of his ambrosia, but not before raising the goblet in silent tribute to the deal they have just made. The beverage is downed, the vessel returned to the table, and the negotiation finished. At least for now. "Then it looks as if I have letters to write, and colleagues to meet. I hope my dealings with them go as smoothly as this one." He offers a smile before scooting back his chair and rising. The two Schola who'd been waiting by the door are roused into alertness now that it looks like Gabriel is planning to leave. "Vale, Seneschal. Tyche favor us both, and... ah, blessings of pure water, if I have that right." "Fides, Fidius, Sancus, if I have it right," replies Raijin, as he slowly brings himself up to his feet. His thin lips curl up into a vague smile, and he inclines his head towards the Empyrean in reply. "Blessings of Pure Water and Vale, Dominus Augustin. I wish you luck in your endeavors." With the pleasantries said, there seems little else now to do, but the Seneschal will linger yet for a time. Turning away now from Gabriel, he retakes his seat. FIN
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