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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell:'''
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| − | Upon her arrival, Sorsha had ridden directly to Duke Conrac’s estate. When she rode up to the main gate, she was greeted by a stable boy who bowed deeply as he seemed to recognize her. “Welcome home, Marchioness,” he greeted timidly. She had been slipping off slowly, and at his words she let go to fall the rest of the way. Blinking, she looked at him with furrowed brows and he gave her a large smile, nothing seeming out of the ordinary. “Uhm, thank you,” she gave him a smile and pressed a coin into his hand.
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| − | At her motion, his eyes grew wider, his expression appalled. “Please accept this,” she pressed his hand softly, “for your quick assistance.”
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| − | Shaking his head, he pushed his hand back at her. “I couldn’t possibly my Lady.” She drew back, now unsure and the coin was returned to her hand. “Odd,” she whispered as he walked the other way with her steed, his face shining bright, his smile returning.
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| − | Sighing, she brushed it off and walked to the entrance. She noticed someone stationed there, leaning lazily against the wall. When his gaze fell on her he immediately straightened and nodded quickly. Before she could so much as utter a word, to ask if the Duke was present, he motioned her forward with a large smile. “Welcome Marchioness Sorsha,” he spoke quickly and she frowned again. Conrac must really have a well trained staff if all of them recognized her on sight; she quietly pondered this, wondering if all nobles were greeted as such. That did not leave much room for careful security.
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| − | When she entered, she noticed some servants walking by the entrance. One held several folded blankets in one hand going off to the left and another crossing with a tray of beverages to the right and both stopped, staring at her.
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| − | She suddenly felt herself blush. Why are they staring at me like that? She looked down to her manner of dress wondering if she had missed a button or… something.
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| − | “I’m sorry,” she apologized, yet she had no idea why, she just felt so out of place. Their faces quickly changed to politeness, but their stares seemed accusing, making her feel like she had done something very very wrong.
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| − | “Could someone please inform the Duke of my presence, it seems…” she dropped her hands at a loss and stammered. “Was…was… I expected?” she asked quickly wondering why no one took the time to announce her. They just let her walk right in.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Conrac Amcastra:'''
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| − | "Hello Sorsha" Conrac smiled weakly.
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| − | "Please come into my office." As Sorsha walked in she was confronted with enormous amounts of paper flown around the office. One piece graphed the military strength of the Dwilight realms. Morek's military strength is circled dramatically in red.
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| − | Conrac drained a glass of red wine before tossing it on the floor. "I sent letters to the Queen. The gods know how she'll respond to this referendum."
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| − | Conrac looked somewhat upset. "I've been a supporter of autocracy for years. I championed the idea that democracy was evil, is it not ironic that I'm not turning to D'haran nobles to support my idea of negotiations?"
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| − | "Tell me Sorsha what do you think about this?" Conrac looked at a small map. It had little figures representing each country's military strength and there location. He rubbed his head slightly. He had a headache...it was actually pretty common nowadays.
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| − | "Glorious last stands are things that the bards will love...but I will be honest, they do not appeal to me at all. The Way of the Dragon is not D'hara, we cannot place its monopoly on religious power in D'hara above the safety of our realm as a whole, especially when its only a symbolic things. Argh..." Conrac grinded his teeth.
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| − | "I have my scholars compiling the votes now. I wonder how D'hara will vote. I've spoken out against friends on this issue, and no doubt this will be the end of my once great but soon to be greatly diminished popularity?" Conrac sent an ironic smile to Sorsha.
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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell:'''
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| − | Glancing at the papers around the room, she swallowed nervously. She could clearly see D’hara’s manpower was no equal to Morek by the vicious emphasis made by his hand no doubt. Conrac’s words had a flavor of defeat to them, as if grasping for some reassurance.
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| − | She noticed him toss the glass to the floor and startled back. It didn’t shatter on the expensive carpet and she quickly reached in to pick it up and set it on the table beside him.
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| − | He had pain in his eyes and she almost reached out of reflex and pulled her hand back instead. Ignoring what had almost occurred she put some distance between them, carefully stepping around the paper strewn floor.
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| − | “We are not prepared to make any type of stand at the moment, we can barely hold off the undead and monsters off our walls as it is. We have only just gained Paisley and already there is talk of moving out west, which to me only brings on a fear that if we move too quickly we will lose everything we’ve tried to work for just as quickly. With this in mind, we can make threats, put up a good show but you’re right glorious last stands are just that, last stands, there is no real glory, just madness. I have not yet made a decision milord… truthfully, I believe in the way of the dragon, but personally I have always followed my own course. But D’hara does need strong allies, and if this change can bring us support making them avert their gaze off D’hara then it would benefit us all, but there is no real guarantee that this is what will occur.” She sighed then, because she knew her answer was only half-heartened, and her face saddened.
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| − | “Sometimes, we may say and do things that will make others see something else,” she sighed miserably knowing how easily words could be misconstrued, “but in the end you must follow your course, if this is what you believe in, then stand firm and hold your ground. Losing popularity is a trivial matter.”
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| − | He stopped to stare at her and she backed up until she fell into a chair she hadn’t even seen.
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