Baron Fengwyn Shea sat and listened as his son provided introductions and a very brief summary of most recent events – that is, the arrival of the airship and the specific claims made by the Black Talons and the Ranger. Credentials, what were available, were presented, and the leader of the western portion of the realm considered them one by one, moving his eyes slowly over each paper, and seeming to consider each word spoken in its own right.
Wearing a solemn expression, he finally nodded slightly, and addressed the Talons directly.
“Bring us news of Begglestar and the north. Leave nothing out,” he says in a deep, resonant voice, pronouncing ‘news’ as “nyooz,” betraying a slight eastern accent.
The Talons provided an account of having seen the army north of the realm, of retaking of Camp Belgrey, and of the battle for Begglestar, along with how they seized the airship, and the strange nature of the commander and crew. Genji explained, in vague terms, the functioning of the communications table, and how this commander was coordinating with other enemies, currently supporting, or perhaps manipulating, the goblinoid armies attacking around Narlford.
The baron nodded along, following the natural inflection points of the narrative, but said nothing until the Talons and Ranger were finished. Then he sat quietly, looking slowly at each of his aides, sometimes arching an eyebrow, sometimes nodding slightly, once pursing his lips. The room was silent save some some faint sounds drifting in from the outside, and for a moment it started to feel uncomfortable.
“I see. This is all very unfortunate, very much a grave threat to the realm. I have been in constant communication with ”/characters/king-jotwan-ii" class=“wiki-content-link”>King Jotwan and the seat of power, and our forces are taxed nearly to the limit by these attacks. Coordination between them provides some solace, perhaps, in that we know our enemy is one, or at least seemingly orchestrated by one. And yet we know our enemies are at least a step or more ahead of us," he spoke slowly, deeply, with crisply-pronounced s’s and t’s, and a slight ‘y’ sound following most n’s. His diction was of the nobility, of the educated and urbane, and his grave expression was in keeping with the steady emotional balance common to those of his station.
“Troops have been sent to Begglestar,” he began again, “and we have been updated by our sister-city’s Lord-Mayor. The realm’s thanks are on you all for providing such essential support there. I will ensure to record this account in my dispatches to the king,” he said, nodding with a slight smile at the last comment.
“And yet we are at war still, and must make plans for our move, to perhaps seize the initiative and find our foes’ weakness. Our plans are laid; and yet with your arrival and the possibilities you bring, perhaps we ought to reconsider some of them,” he said, looking to his military commander as he did so.
“Tell us of your ideas…what can this flying wonder do, and what do you propose to do with it, in defense of the realm?” he asked, brushing aside his silvery-grey hair.