NationStates Jolt Archive

Agwene sat quietly on the balcony, at the small, round tea table, waiting for Mephet'ran's arrival. She breathed in a little...more nervous than she would be if this were just another foreign leader. Mephet'ran for his part, upon his eventual arrival, seemed relatively calm, and indeed content. He walked with a confident step, dressed in a somewhat Chinese styled robe or cloak, silver with a gold 'scaled' trim and a five legged dragon motif over the left breast. He bowed deeply to his host and smiled, "Good day," he said, unsure of the local time, "your majesty."

Agwene rose with a polite smile as he entered. "Good day, Your Majesty." She bowed her head.

"It is an honour to be here..." he said, after a moment.

"It is an honor to have you." She gestured graciously to the seat across from her.

He sat down in a smooth, restrained motion, and nodded. Agwene sat as well, crossing her legs with preternatural elegance as she poured them both tea. "Normally I do not initiate diplomatic contact in person and I understand you do not either, however...I had reason to wish to meet you."

Mephet`ran decided to feign ignorance, "Indeed that is true. May I ask your reasoning?"

"I have...heard much about you."

"Oh?" he asked, unsurprised.

"Yes" she answered simply.

"Dare I ask what terrible things you've been told?" he added playfully.

"Nothing all THAT terrible." she teased.

"You've not been listening to the right, or indeed, wrong, people. I have heard something of you too though only little.”

Agwene glanced away. Mephet`ran tilted his head a little, "Is there a problem?"

"What would you like to know?" she asked very quietly, which was not an answer.

"Whatever you wish to tell."

"My line of descent goes back to the creation of the world, Your Majesty. It is not easily summarized."

"I was more interested in the nation than your lineage," he said, smiling.
"The nation consists of approximately four hundred million fairies, five hundred million humans, and one hundred million people of other races, none of which is statistically significant in itself. Of the fairies, twenty million are sidhe. All these are approximate numbers at best and slightly high at the present time."

"I see," he said, nodding.

Agwene took another sip of her tea, carefully hiding her increased agitation as she smiled politely. "I do hope that helps."

Mephet`ran nodded a little, "Yes, thank you. I'm sorry, are you alright?"

Agwene was giving no external sign of displeasure. "Of course."

Mephet`ran smiled, "Good, and what I have heard of you has been praise."

Agwene smiled lightly, sipping her tea. "Oh?"

"And so far, I suspect most of it to be truth, understatement maybe."

Agwene blushed lightly. "You flatter me, surely."

"Not intentionally."

"I wasn't complaining."

Mephet`ran smiled, "Indeed," he said, "And yet, I do not aim to flatter, merely speak truthfully."Agwene just colored more, looking off shyly."And I can see that Sirithil was also speaking in the same manner." He said.

"You are trying to make me blush, Mephet'ran."

Mephet`ran laughed, "Am I succeeding?"

"You can see." She answered, her glorious, literally shining alabaster visage now a lovely shade of pink.

"It suits you," he observed, sipping the tea again.

Agwene sipped her own tea. "I'm quite jealous. Sirithil has a much more charming fiance than I do."

Mephet`ran gave a little smile, "Why thank you," he said, "now I feel flattered."

Agwene pouted playfully. "Why do I have to have an ass instead of a gentleman?"

"Who says you have to?" he asked.

"The law."

"Well, that's definately a misfortune," he said, sounding saddened.

"I will do what I must." Agwene sipped her tea.

"Of course," he said, "would you care to tell me about him?"

"I don't particularly know him. He's arrogant, rude, somewhat racist, condescending, self-righteous, loud, impolitic, cruel, petty. His name is Connor."

"Poor you," he said in a genuinely sympathetic tone, drinking again.

"Want to meet him?" Agwene smiled gently.

"Not really," he said with a laugh.

"Should we actually discuss matters of diplomacy at some point?"

"There are matters of diplomacy to be discussed?"

"Aren't there?"

Mephet`ran smiled, "I can't see any issues. The Necrontyr are friends to all who want such friendship."

"We would like to exchange embassies."

"Of course," he said, "that can be easily arranged."

"And trade perhaps..."

"I can't truly say that I control trade, but we have an open policy, and would welcome it."

"I think those are all the diplomatic issues."

"Hardly issues, as in problems," he said with another smile.

"True enough."

Mephet`ran gave her a little smile again, "Do you have any other issues?"

"Not really. What would you like to discuss?"

"Oh I don't have any really."

Agwene took another sip of tea. Would you like to see Tarana?"

"The city?" he guessed.

"Yes."

"Certainly."

Agwene rose elegantly. "Shall we then?"
Mephet’ran nodded, "Indeed we shall.” He stood, as well.
Agwene glided towards the front gates of the palace. "Anything specific you wish to see?"
"Not really, no," he said, following, "anything you like."
Agwene glided out the palace doors and down the marble stairs into Timon Square. The usual crowd fell into a wave of bowing and curtseying before Agwene and Mephet'ran. Mephet’ran did his rather impressive best to look gracious, and let her lead on. The crowd was rather diverse. Four-foot piskies mingled with nine foot trolls. Jet-black eshu rubbed shoulders with ghostly white sluagh. Beautiful sidhe stood near hideous redcaps. Solid humans mingled with airy parosemes.

Mephet’ran watched the crowd, rather impressed by some of its constituents.
"Would you wish to spend some time here, meeting my people?"
"Certainly," he said. Agwene waved for him to approach any individual he wished. Mephet’ran picked, out of curiosity, one of the redcaps.

The redcap peered curiously at the C'tan, baring dull, grotesque yellow teeth and emitting a definite aura of ugly scariness. Mephet’ran looked at Agwene for some sort of introduction.

Agwene arched a brow faintly, confusedly at the look but still said, "This is Emperor Mephet'ran of the C'tan."

The redcap grunted. "I'm Grumar."
"Pleased to meet you," he said, sounding quite pleased indeed.
The redcap just nodded.
"Well, it was nice to say hello, but I suppose I should be moving on," he says, intrigued, but rather put off by the apparent silence of the creature.

Grumar nodded. "Sorry?"
"Sorry?" he asked. Grumar just shook his head, looking confused.
Mephet’ran gave a brief laugh, "Well, that was a confusing conversation, no?" he asked the redcap.
"Very."
Mephet’ran glanced at Agwene, "Very enlightening," he said, moving off.

Agwene shrugged a little. He did pick the least sociable seeming race for his first meeting. Mephet’ran wasn't, however, really being sarcastic, "Shall I find someone else?" he asked.

"As you wish."

"Perhaps later?"

"Perhaps."

"So, did you wish to show me something of the city?"

Agwene nodded, beginning to walk towards the edge of the square and walked into a large, light marble structure across from the square, towering over the street below and almost as high as the palace. Mephet’ran took a long, curious, look at it as he followed her.

The inside was spacious with the main chapel reaching up through all seven stories of the building. The benches were carved from the same marble as the building, softened with green cushions. The windows were shining stained glass affairs depicting pictures of noble and faithful souls, and of the gods themselves. A towering statue of a gorgeous woman in a flowing royal gown dominated the front of the room. Hundreds of people knelt in prayer

Mephet’ran didn't seem to have much to say about the interior of the temple, but took a good 'look' around. Agwene knelt low to the ground as she entered, bowing her head forward and kissing the marble floor Unsurprisingly, Mephet'ran's reaction was far less devout. She frowned as she rose, turning and heading back out into the street, and Mephet muttered 'most impressive' as he left.

She paused on the stairs of the temple, looking off for a moment. Finally, she spoke softly. "I think it might be better if we didn't tour the temple after all."

"Perhaps."

She turned and studied him expectantly, in silence.
"Well, I don't actually practise your faith..."
"I was aware of that."
"Indeed. In fact I can't even claim the vaguest familiarity."
"Of course."
"So, where to next?" he asked.

Agwene started down the stairs, towards another large marble structure to the East of the palace. "The Hall of Justice."
He took another look at this building. They definitely had a taste for marble around here...

It's was all actually one piece, carved from the gigantic marble outcropping that forms the old city. She climbed the stairs and entered the large ante-chamber where a number of Fae and Humans milled about, waiting for appointments. The antechamber was two stories tall with a statue of Justice holding her scales standing in the centre.
Mephet’ran found this interesting, and took a long look at the statue.

Agwene peeked up a little at his entrance. "It's a fairly common representation, though normally done on a slightly smaller scale."
"Indeed," he said, "It too is most impressive. Is it carved out of the same material as the building?"
"It's all one piece, the entirety of the Old City was carved from a single marble outcropping over five centuries."
"Interesting. Did you use what was excavated to build up or out?"
"What was excavated was sent out to other parts of the country. My Mother wanted the whole thing to remain one piece."
"I see. How large is it?"
"About four miles in diameter, two hundred yards above the plains at the highest point."
"Wow," he said, quite surprisingly, "was that a natural formation?"
"It was not created by us but my seers tell me its formation had more to do with mystic energies that geological processes."

Mephet’ran rather oddly, crouched and tapped the floor curiously, "Even more interesting," he said.
"Oh?" She asked.
"Oh yes, a most intriguing enigma."
Agwene smiled. "The Usual Court is not currently in session. Would you like to see the Courtroom?"
"Oh," he said, standing up, "Yes. Mustn't get carried away with looking at the floor."

Agwene laughed lightly and looked at Mephet'ran's elbow.
Mephet’ran raised an eyebrow, and extended his arm, "Humm?"
She smiled coyly and Mephet’ran clasped his hands in front of himself, holding his elbows out a little, proffering his elbow. Agwene smiled, slinging her arm through his and leaning over and pecking him chastely on the cheek.

Mephet’ran blinked a little, somewhat surprised. He'd been absorbed in considering the rock. "Mmm, that was a surprise. Please do lead on my dear."
"I hope not an unpleasant one." She walked into the large court chamber. Rows of benches lead up to a railing separating them from two large tables for council. The bench is long and holds the seats for seven judges to sit, the centre chair higher than the others.
Mephet’ran took a look around, "Is this the norm or is this a form of 'High Court?'"
Agwene made a note of the lack of response. "Normally, there's just one judge. In some places, there's a jury box."

He nodded, "And no, not at all unpleasant."
Agwene moved towards the front of the room and he couldn't do much but follow, given the intertwined arms. "For the last month or two, this room has been busy with the trials of terrorists."
"Terrorists?"
"The most dreadful form or traitor."
"Well, yes. I was merely curious about what they're up to."

Agwene nodded. "There was a series of terrorist attacks last year, including the particularly odious bombing of a pre-school. Fortunately, we have crippled that particular terrorist network and brought most of those responsible to justice. I wish I could say all."
"Alas, it would be over-ambitious to expect that," he said, frowning.
"A pre-school, Mephet'ran, a pre-school..."
"I'm hardly defending such actions," he said, sounding slightly offended.

Agwene blinked. "I wasn't disputing your words at all. You misunderstood." She blushed a little, embarrassed.
Mephet’ran stopped, "I'm sorry..."
"It's just...I don't understand it."
"There is likely some perverted logic behind it..."
"Likely." She sighed heavily.
"Well, if there is anything I can do to help, do let me know."

Agwene looked up at him, smiling softly. "I hope I'm not over sharing. It is a bad habit of mine."
Mephet’ran smiled, "Not at all."
"You are helping, you know?"
"If it helps you to talk, then speak freely."
"I just meant that the company of good men lets one forget the evil."
He nodded and Agwene started back out of the courtroom. Mephet’ran had little choice but to follow.

"Tell me more about yourself."
"Well, there's very little and a great deal to tell," he said, contemplating what to say.
Agwene smiled warmly, seeming rather pleased with the day so far. "I suppose it was a rather broad question."
"Very much so," he said.
Mephet’ran looked deep in thought.
Agwene walked around towards the back of the palace as he reflected.
"I can't really think of anything to say about myself that would hold your interest, that I would like revealed, and that would not sound immodest."

Agwene nodded a little, slightly disappointed.
Mephet’ran smiles, "Well, I'm sure I can find something of interest," he said, "I suppose I could tell you about the places I've been and so forth."
"Do tell."
"Humm. Decisions. I spent a while in a city not entirely unlike this one but made of quartz once, there's of course my favourite about people who lived entirely in floating airships over an endless sea turned green by all pervasive algae. See, this is the problem," he said, leaning forward, "I tell things about myself, and I sound like I've got my heart in the past, which I don't think is really true."
Agwene nodded a little. "Lived entirely in ships?"
"Oh yes. I hasten to add that any diet consisting entirely of harvested algae is very boring unless you're a catfish."
"I don't think I would enjoy it, certainly."
Mephet’ran nodded, "In general terms, you see, the airships would coast fairly close to the water, and harvest food, as well as raw materials for fuel, from the water below, before ascending to higher altitudes. It is a sort of religious thing you see, height as closeness to god. It's a theme in a lot of religious architecture taken to the extreme. I think that's why they abandoned the land - being air breathing - in the first place."
Agwene nodded. "Is height closer to God?"
"That would depend on where one's god lives," he said, sounding slightly coy.
"And where do the gods of the Necrontyr live?"
"Well. That depends, at different times, on their sun, on the stars in general, and among them."
"Do you live in the sky?"
"Not often," he said, grinning, "From time to time though."

Agwene smiled slightly, thinking of what else to say
Mephet’ran raises an eyebrow, "There's always the interesting story of the various peoples who seem to have ended up either as part of unthinking machines, or ending up serving robots designed to serve them."
"Do tell."
"Well. The most common situation with worlds ending up serving that kind of machine is, oddly enough, atmosphere processors. When races try to make worlds inhabitable by filtering their atmospheres through machines crammed with bacteria. In one example, this was to take generations. By which time, the descendants of the colonists only knew that serving the machine in question, keeping it running, making offerings of certain things, would lead to a promised land."
"That's...heartbreaking..."
"That's one I sped up by a few hundred years," he said - one of the few times he considers himself to have really done good, if not for good motives.

"Is there anything you would know of me?"
He seems thoughtful, "Ah, a most interesting question. Asking another what they want to know of you. May I ask that you, tell me something about yourself you feel it would benefit me to know?"
Agwene blushed, glancing away as she thought. I really do love her.
Mephet’ran raised an eyebrow, unaware of her thoughts for now.
"I'm the second daughter of three."
"Oh? No brothers?" he asked, deciding not to ask about the eldest.
"None."
"I hear your younger sister is fast becoming legendary for her beauty," he said conversationally.
"Oh?" she smiles a little.
"Oh yes. I keep my eye on society publications I'm afraid - I need to know who to take terrible vengeance upon for slandering me," he pretends to be serious about that for a moment before laughing.
Agwene laughs lightly. "Are you slandered often, Emperor Mephet'ran?"
"Never twice!" he said and Agwene laughed liltingly.
"To be honest, when I am, I probably deserve it," he said with a smile.
Agwene smiled a little. "I doubt that."

"Why thank you my dear. I might add that you yourself are not lacking in such renown. And now that I have the pleasure of your company, it is easy to see why."
Agwene blushed demurely. "Thank you."

"Are all Sidhe even more enchanting in the flesh?"
"I can say that without false modesty, yes."
"Or should I say that, do all recordings do so little justice to you," he says, nodding at her reply, "Interesting, interesting indeed."
Agwene nodded. "Recordings don't capture the essence."
He nodded, "Interesting, very interesting."
Mephet’ran then suddenly laughed again, "But I must restrain my curiosity, and simply enjoy your presence," he said.
Agwene let herself fall into silence for a moment, thoughtful.
Mephet’ran smiled, waiting for a moment, deciding to make his next request after, assuming she chose to, she said what was on her mind.

"So how is your trip so far?"
"Wonderful, there is just one thing that I'm not satisfied about," he said.
"Oh?"
"My behaviour in the temple earlier. I wish to apologise for that."
"It is no matter."
Mephet’ran smiled yet again, "Nevertheless, I am sorry for behaving in such an ungracious manner," he said, frowning.
"Accepted."
"Thank you," he said, bowing his head a little, "may I ask, if it's not too impertinant, that we go back? The curiosity about the tour I refused will eat at me otherwise..."
Agwene nodded, heading back towards the temple.
Mephet’ran smiled, walking beside her, "Thank you even more," he said.
"Of course."

Mephet’ran seemed to pay more attention as they approached the temple a second time.
Agwene stepped inside, kneeling and kissing the floor. Mephet’ran knelt down on one knee, then both, and bowed deeply, glancing over at her to see if he was expected to kiss the floor too. Agwene didn't seem to expect it, and therefore Mephet’ran did it anyway, as it isn't expected, before rising. Agwene rises as well.

Agwene rose, heading towards the front of the temple with its marble altar and elegant statue of Dana. Mephet`ran followed along beside her, looking around as they walked. The temple was filled with worshippers of all types, from all walks of life and all races, quietly bowing their heads in prayer. He took all this in as well, still looking around the temple with interest. The marble walls seemed to be decorated with elaborate carvings from scripture. The judgment of Lord Gwydion figured most prominently among the carvings, showing him taking the serving maid of the Tuatha, kneeling before the gods, and in various animal forms. Mephet'ran seemed to take something of an interest in everything, but on nothing in particular, and invited Agwene to tell him something of the symbolism behind the depictions. "Well..." She looked around a moment before going to a series of depictions. "This is the first meeting between Lord Gwydion and Jalendrel of the Good Hand. In the first panel, we see a small village under attack, peasants being slaughtered by trained soldiers." He nodded, standing quietly behind her, and listening. "Here we see the arrival of Gwydion and the Hundred. Lord Gwydion was surprised to find Jalendrel, depicted here, to simply be watching the carnage." Again Mephet'ran nodded, listening intently. "Here we see the end of the carnage and the awakening of a monster slaying all the soldiers. Here we see Jaldendrel explaining that he had to allow the destruction of the village to slay the monster which would kill many more if left unchecked. He explained he had foreseen these events." Mephet`ran nodded again to Agwene, thinking that he was familiar with that particular dilemma, or had been, at times. "Here we see the sorrow of Jalendrel. Gwydion speaks to him and asks what is wrong. He did what any honorable warrior would and served the greater good."

"Yes," Mephet'ran said softly.

"And here is Jalendrel's answer. The village was...his home. His parents were the local lord and lady, slain with their tenants." There came a soft sigh of pity. For whom it was uncertain. Agwene looked over the hundreds of carvings on the walls, pondering what to show him next. "Any specific area you're interested in?"

"The animal transformation scenes perhaps..."

Agwene walked over towards them. "These show Gwydion's punishment for raping a servant of the gods. He was turned into a different animal every year for three years, to show him what life is from other perspectives."

"To become a thing is to know a thing," he said softly, repeating something he'd heard once, "An interesting punishment..."

Agwene nodded. "Indeed."

"Effective too?" he asked.

"I think so."

"I see. And what happened after this?"
"He was given the gift of truthseeing and became the founder of a great House"

"And their fortunes?" he asks, suspecting she's a descendant of that House in some form.

"To become the ruling House."

"Any relation to your own?"


"It is the same House." she said, seemingly surprised at the question.

"Any relation to your own?"

"It is the same House." she said, seemingly surprised at the question.

"I thought so," he said.

Agwene nodded. "Anything else you'd wish to see?"

He looked up, over at the statue, "Not especially, though anything else you feel would impress me would be interesting without a doubt."

"Well, over here we have a carving of Dougal's creation of steel."

He raised an eyebrow and walked over, "And the tale behind it?"

"Dougal's people were being besieged by the armies of man near the middle of the Milesian Wars. The recent discovery of iron had made the armies of High King Ogma vulnerable and on the defensive."

"And so Dougal discovered steel, which your people can handle safely?"

"Created."

"Created?"

"Dougal's lord summoned all of his advisors before him to ask their counsel on how to deal with the new threat. The Fiona advised an immediate attack. The Eiluned advised an attempt to poison the enemy commander." Agwene said. Mephet’ran nodded, interested in this story. "Dougal, a mere blacksmith, said that iron must be obtained to be understood and must be understood to be fought, but none would support his scheme. Bringing any of the substance to their home would be too dangerous."

"And so?"

"And so Dougal left on his own and captured an iron blade from the enemy. He ran as fast as he could to his workshop though it burned his hands. He placed it on his anvil and began to work. All but two of his assistants fled. Only two stout journeymen helped him at his work."

Agwene grinned, her face lighting up as she continued. "Dougal died in that forge, his entire essence spent at the forge. What remained was Anweyth, the first steel sword to our knowledge, and with it three journeymen who had proved themselves worthy to found House Dougal."

She paused, thinking a moment. "We've spoken much of the foundings of Houses but not much of what they mean. The House Codes are on the wall behind the altar."

Agwene went first to a panel inscribed with an Oath. "House Gwydion doesn't actually have a written code. It is considered that the strength of the Oath sworn here contains within it everything that could be placed in a code." She smiled softly, reading the Oath from the marble. "Lords and Ladies of the Falcon, I do swear fealty unto thee and to the noble House of Gwydion, from this day until the sun burns no longer. I shall never fail to defend my charges, nor the honor of my brothers and sisters. I shall be gracious in peace and unyielding in battle, and I shall bring the House of Gwydion honor by my deeds. In the name of Lord Gwydion the Grey and Lady Keredwyn, I swear it." She turned to look at Mephet'ran. "I still remember taking that Oath, on my thirteenth birthday. It is literally impossible for a fairy to break such an Oath without damaging her soul in a way any observer can see, thus we know when any Gwydion should break it. Most Gwydion also believe that it is unworthy of any Gwydion ever to lie, though it it not explicitly stated in the Oath."