Open Chronicles Leadership of my Sanctuary

[TTamark]

Steve watched as those with authority came into the meeting room. He had called them all here to talk over running the city. While there had been some basic rules while the city was beginning, and being built, it was time for those in power to finally make a stance about how things would be run. No more dealing with things on a case by case basis with different outcomes depending on who acted as mediator. Also there was the issues of leadership. Before the meeting started he had tried to get Lillian to join them.

"Alright guys, girls, and ghouls."

Steve started as he slapped his hands to the table.

"You all have a rough understanding on why we/I called you here, right? To make sure there is absolutely no misunderstanding I will state it plainly now. We need to have some official government. While we all currently act as the government with Lillian as the head we need to make decisions on how we decide who will sit on the council, as well as what responsibilities come with the position. I also assume that we would prefer this not to be a LIFE long position, especially with some of our unique positions in that regard, hehehe.

Also we must find some time to discuss some major laws, we have been far too inconsistent in the past on what is and isn't acceptable. Focussing mostly on our trade, the college, research, or mad science as some might find more accurate to describe what goes on, our military, and lastly citizenship: what they can expect from us, as well as what we expect from them. After all we don't want to work them to the BONE.

Now I know some of you might have had your own concerns, or BONES to pick, on our laws, and governance, so if you would like to make your thoughts known please take this chance to do so, otherwise I look forward to hearing your ideas."

As Steve finished his piece he stood up straight again to his full height before pulling out some dog treats he had made and placing them before Lillian's chair. She who had a much better chair prepared for her compared to the much more modest chairs for the other members. Hers being expertly carved and lined with some bits of gold and even silk. Steve hoped the treats would get her to sit there, and be content during the proceedings. Though the rest in attendance might have had a more modest chair provided compared to a dog, they were provided with bowl of Potato stew fresh from Steve. An undead chicken ready to serve another, or a cup of vodka at a moments notice.

 

[Lillian Dog]

Living in the Sanctuary of the dead, a place as cold as can be, blessed the canine with an extra thicc layer of pelt.
Perhaps that extra adorableness caused her reputation to skyrocket among the necromantic and dead populace to such a degree of adoration, that no other person would come to mind to be elected as the head representative.
Even if such a role was mostly ceremonial in nature of giving out free cuddles and licks.

»Woof woof.« Lillian proudly proclaimed, only muted after Steve slipped her some treats.
Perhaps quite an obvious display in bribery.
Lillian did like Steve a lot.

 

[Kovshei]

“Hah. Bone to pick.”

Kovshei chortled from his seat and waggled a desiccated finger at the short spudmancer.

“I always liked you, Steve. I do have some concerns. Such as why we couldn’t have chosen a better locale, I’m freezing my ass off in this citadel. Or I would be, you know. If I could.... feel.”

 

[Maeve Blackwood]

Maeve Blackwood stood near the exit, opting to avoid sitting at the table with the others. It was curiosity mostly that brought her here, and those unearthly teal eyes watched the others with the hunger of a creature whose mind has long deteriorated. A fiery brow arched upward at Steve's puns, the corners of her mouth twitching upward into a thinly veiled grimace. There might have been a question as to why the pirate was there, but if she were asked she'd probably just lift her shoulder dismissively.

When the undead chicken started offering liquor, the kivren pushed off the wall and approached finally, if only to take a cup of the proffered booze. She lifted the glass, eying it suspiciously as she hoisted it to eye level. She said nothing, though she wrinkled her nose and downed it a moment later in one long swallow.

 

[TTamark]

"heeheehee, but if you are seriously wondering why we settled here... Hmm, alright it is roughly like this when the founders were deciding where to start this fine nation we took into account the unique concerns, and lack thereof, the citizens might have. So to cover the main points of our thought process: We have a large portion of the population that doesn't mind the cold, in fact the cold allows their bodies to last longer. There also tends to be less large populations that could pose a threat to us this far north, and we are hard to reach.

Mind you, you might then begin to wonder why we didn't go further north, and it is this: We still wanted to be able to trade with the world the unique gifts we can create, as well as we still have some among us that can not survive with such cold. The name of this city is a promise; Sanctuary. So that all might be able to find sanctuary here.

plus as a wise man once said, 'You can only take so much off, but you can always put on another layer.' This is even more true when some have taken not having another layer to take off to the extreme. HOHOHO, those skelli-boys.

Now unless we have other questions, how about we move on to deciding on how we decide who will sit on the council and for how long. But feel free to ask any additional questions, or make any additional comments at any time at any time. You were all asked to come here for a reason, and the countries direction might very well be decided by what you have to say."

 

[Na’ill]

Na’ill pushed open the door as he slipped into the room shivering violently his flesh blue. “Jesus it’s cold! We’re not all fucking dead” he said as he seated himself in a vacant spot far away from the others who sat at the table he sat there meekly which was uncharacteristic of him. He sat in his seat looking about and shying away from the gazes of better known and more powerful Necromancers for he was but a mere 86 still young and cheery as far as an elf was concerned. He looked at the rotting flesh of others and then back at his own living, cold, weak, and numb flesh. He could feel their powerful auras around him making his spine tingle. Accompanied with the feeling of auras came the pungent sent of power in their blood. He could smell it through the flesh and skin of everyone in the room and his keen nose wrinkled at the foul stench of powerful Necromancers in the room. These people were much stronger than he and he coward in his chair for a minute before he steeled himself and sat up willing himself to not look like a fool.

 

[Lillian Dog]

Lapping up the snacks, they were gone in no time.
»Woof, bwoof ooof ... boOOow.« Perhaps that was a demand, maybe it was a request or question, but without a polykoinolectic talisman, the dog was merely loud at the most unfortunate of times.

More people wandered in, they had to be greeted. Lillian hopped off the chair and walked off to Na'ill, but he'd already found a place to sit on. So far though!
She padded off to his feet, checking if she can hop and sit on his lap.

 

[Maeve Blackwood]

Maeve took a refill from one of the chickens before she circled around the table to an empty chair. Hooking the toe of her boot around its leg, she tugged it out before dropping into it and taking a sip from her glass. While she listened, her eyes swept toward Ni'all, whom the dog showed a fondness for. Fortunate, given that Maeve personally didn't care for most land animals.

"Ye've certainly chosen well," the Kivren remarked, words barely audible. When she spoke again, her disembodied voice was a bit louder. "Any o' ye 'ave a smoke?"

While she waited for an answer, she listened to Steve's words. Governments weren't her type of thing, being a pirate and all, but there was her life before that, in the Grotto. At nearly three hundred years old, the kivren knew more than her fair share about all that stuff just from existing.

"I reckon th' first riddle best be how many will sit on th' council," Maeve interjected. "Perhaps each council hand o'ersees a particular function o' Sanctuary?"

 

[Amankh Kaltar]

The council chamber's door opened once more to reveal yet another arrival, propelled by a sweeping gust of frigid air. A mummy, whose bone had long since turned a cobalt blue and was draped in familiar, gilded robes entered the room. Shortly after, two masked undead figures followed—Eternal Disciples, a now well-trained force of arcane users trained by the largely completed College. Amankh Kaltar granted each individual a look as he gave the chamber a sweeping glance, the rhythmic tapping of an ice-ridden gold staff against the stone floor accompanying his steady pace as he made his way to his seat.

Since the failed invasion against the false Amol-Kalitian Empire—the mere thought of it brings with it the grim taste of regret—the Eternum's Archmage had remained far more driven and focused than he had ever been prior. Beyond his teachings to the Disciples and his role as both diplomat and advisor in many aspects of the kingdom, Amankh had maintained a solemn and distant demeanor that hardly seemed to crack.

Some theorized that the loss of his limb, now replaced by a cold facsimile, had somehow affected him. Others thought his ego had been pricked by the defeat. Those that knew him well believed he simply set his mind to other matters with the building of the new empire. The mummy was never one for idle chatter, after all. All of these were true, in part, yet none truly grasped it.

The ancient skeleton sat at one of the thrones positioned around the table, the armrests immediately coating themselves in a pristine array of crystalline ice at his touch. There was a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces at the table, from strange kivren pirates and young necromancers to 'potatomancers' and an ever-loving dog.

"The topic of what comes next is an ever-important one, I feel. The basic infrastructure of Sanctuary is completed and is improved with each passing day." He nodded towards Maeve Blackwood, acknowledging her point. "I agree. The Eternum is an eclectic assembly of those from all walks of life, each with a different set of talents that make us particularly useful to Sanctuary. A council consisting of those who oversee parts of society, from its academic and arcane prospects to agriculture or our marine affairs would be well-equipped."

As Amankh completed the sentiment, he gave the stew a small taste. It was pleasing to have one last remaining sensation of life available to him, even if it was wholly fulfilled through the arcane. Glancing at the Disciples, who remained still behind him, he gave a silent gesture for them to ease and indulge in the stew. As much as they were his hands, they were also his students.

 

[TTamark]

Steve was so exited that Amankh finally showed. Finally someone who had some real experience with government. He had to be loads better than Steve who only experience was paying the vegetable taxes back home, what he read in the libraries of Elbion, on what he had experienced first hand from all the many cultures he had visited. How could that compare to Amankh a royal advisor in an ancient empire, one that fell mind you, but that most likely wasn't his fault. Just as much as he valued his voice though he also paid special heed to Maeve Blackwood's words. After all he had been on many ships and knew that though they tended to be very different to a government, the way a captain held authority over their ships could make even a king jealous.

"All righty then, it seems most agree, or at least are willing accept to accept maintaining a council of individuals. I also feel that a good way of doing this is by ones occupation. Do dive a bit deeper I believe we will in the future ask that organizations form based on occupation they will be required to directly govern their own members. These organizations will then be asked to send a representative of their own choosing to represent them in the council.

If any organization were to grow too large it would then be incentivized to split into more factions. So as an example instead of simply one member to represent seafarers who might take up thirty percent of the population, they would have enough members to have multiple factions for things like: piracy, trade, military, and shipwrights. That way they would be able to more or less be able to represent themselves based on their population.

I know it is a bit bare bones, but we can of course figure out a more exact point where a population is eligible for a faction at a later date. Of course if you feel I misunderstood, or you wish to add something, please do so that we can take it into account before we move forward on this... Hmm, one thought I have is that depending on how many guilds we have we will have a large amount of council members, so maybe there should be a job for a guide for the council meeting just to make sure thing run smoothly, you know get to the meat an potatoes of the matters, their job will also entail tending to Lillian during the meetings of course... If everyone is ok with it how about we have someone experienced in laws over see such meetings."

Steve took a moment to look at the paper he had prepared that had some of the points he wanted to cover during this meeting, allowing conversation to move on in his silence. He talked to himself briefly before looking up and continuing on the next topic.

"Ok... so we are likely leaving the choosing, and terms of council members to the guild to represent themselves. Oh yeah, does anyone think there needs to be regulations placed on the members? I fear that doing so might affect the guilds ability to choose who will represent them best."

Steve waited for feedback.

"But since I brought up people experienced with the law let us be moving onto the legal system now... So I have what I think might be a good form of law, though of course I welcome all perspectives on this. No one is more of a fish out of water than me."

Steve gave Maeve a look.

"So my thought is to, for the most part, allow the guilds to handle their own laws. I think that it would be unreasonable for one who deals with the laws within the city where stealing must be punished to deal with the business of piracy where stealing is a large part of the business. But there should then be a court above the guilds that will handle disputes between the guilds so, for example, our pirates, are not looting our own trade ships, at least too much, unpunished. Citizens should also be able to request to be judged by their town as a whole. They must answer for their job, but they are citizens of Sanctuary first and foremost."

Steve downed two glasses of his vodka, as he let out a deep sigh, warming his hands on a hot potato.

"Thoughts? Refills? Head pats? Don't want you feel like I am giving you the cold shoulder."

Steve looked directly at Amankh.

 

[Maeve Blackwood]

There was no denying that the moment Amankh Kaltar stepped through that door, Maeve Blackwood's gaze turned to him. Almost everyone looked in that direction, but those glowing, teal eyes of Maeve's were fixated in an entirely different fashion. For every bit that Maeve was a creature of the sea, forced to suffer a cursed life, Amankh was the opposite. A thing from the desert, a thing from an empire and a land that to Maeve would have found absolutely dreadful--in life anyway. And yet, when he sat down and the ice formed along the chair, she simply watched as if transfixed. What the pirate didn't expect was any sort of agreement from those present. She was a stranger to them.

Memories of a life a century past--nothing compared to the several millennia that the mummy had lived--flowed into her mind and she shook her head slowly as Steve looked at her. His remark wasn't lost on her and though she was a bitter creature, the woman clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and waited for him to pause before she spoke again. The words that came from the pirate's mouth, in that speech so common among her kind, were not words of a pirate, but of a creature that had once protected a home that was dear to her.

"No. Nah th' piracy route," Maeve began, grabbing a refill of vodka from one of the chickens. It was an old habit, and it was only the taste that she was able to enjoy. She gulped down the entire cup and set it down before she continued. "Ye wish t' offer a ship t' outcasts. T' scallywags 'n creatures like ye 'n me, t' th' mummy right thar. If ye wish t' create a ship that be safe fer these individuals, raidin' th' high seas ain't th' way t' go about it. Ye needs a navy, a defense built t' protect Sanctuary from any harm that might come her way. Find a fleet admiral, someone capable o' leadin' yer ships as ye gather them, whether ye build them or raise them from th' depths."

Her gaze slid back toward Amankh, watching him silently, judging him.