Blood on the Crown [Florian]

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"Let us meet him on his own turf." Brenner replied. It was obvious, due to the context, that this Frankie was a non-human. The First Minister was keenly aware that an invitation to the Presidium could be an imposing audience for anyone, but it might be particularly menacing to a non-human who just published an article that was in opposition to the official stance of the State. If they were to work together, Brenner imagined it would be better to start off with a softer touch.

The secondary, but still notable, concern was how Frankie might be received here at the ministry.

"Hm..." He leafed through a leather bound appointment book, and considered. "Why don't you set up a lunch at his tavern sometime next week?" Throwing a bit of patronage his way probably wouldn't hurt things, either.

"By the way..." Brenner pursed his lips, considering how to phrase this next bit. "You'll... forgive me for inquiring, but I feel I will be better able to prepare myself for a meeting with this Frankie character if I am informed as to, um... what he is?" There were plenty of non-humans who were aesthetically pleasing. Elves, of course, were lovely creatures albeit in a submissive, feminine sort of way. Avialae were striking and statuesque, but there were many wretched creatures in the world. With any luck, this Frankie wouldn't turn out to be a rat rathari like that terrifying beastie he'd seen at the Godless Temple some months ago. She still haunted his dreams all this time later.

"I... know I'm probably not supposed to ask things like that, but forewarned is forearmed." He offered with a sheepish shrug.

[Florian]

"His place it is." Florian affirmed. Franky didn't seem the type to be intimidated by anything or anyone if what Brenner remarked about his newspaper article meant anything. "He's Hobgoblin. If I had to guess where he was from...his accent is not quite Zaichaeri but it's not impossibly different, either. If what you say about the Gelerian Imperium and Zaichaer to be true, I'd hazard he's Gelerian." He never quite got to know the personal details of Franky's life, though with a renewed vigor in interpersonal relationships now that he had survived so much, he was curious. Still, Brenner's need to ask that question rubbed him the wrong way.

"Don't expect me to answer that sort of question too frequently. It may just be something you need to get used to." Florian could remember his first meeting with Brenner with the then-just-Commander Dornkirk. His expression split into a grim line for a moment, but it softened with a few seconds' time. "You cannot predict someone's behavior based on their race, anyway." He considered leaving out the fact that Franky was also scarred, far more than he was. He never knew what caused the scarring, but it didn't change the fact that he seemed to be an excellent businessman, what with his new venture and whatever else he was doing in the Knob. Florian hadn't been down there in over a season, considering he had spent the entirety of Frost outside of Zaichaer.

"He's a smart man. Don't be caught off guard by him. I'll let him know that the First Minister himself is coming down next week."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"A Gelerian goblin?" Brenner's hand unconsciously rose to the front of his face and he absently pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Why wouldn't he be a Gelerian goblin? Of course he is." The First Minister sounded suddenly so very tired. If they were going to change the Zaichaeri Zeitgeist to favour non-humans, Lysanrin were one thing- They were sort of cute in a mildly sinister way. There were plenty of other graceful, aesthetically pleasing races, but goblinoids? That promised to be an uphill battle. Zaichaer's was a culture that valued beauty. Although their military struck fear into the hearts of all who opposed it, their uniforms were still dead sexy, to say nothing of the city's beautifully cohesive architecture. The thought of a sallow, wart-flecked beast moving up in the world was... A challenge for Brenner.

"This..." He let his hand fall away from his face, and flipped his appointment book shut. "This is why I asked." Had he been caught unawares by the sight of a goblin, he'd have doubtless reacted poorly. Forewarned was, indeed, forearmed in this instance.

"It is not his behaviour I was hoping to predict, it is my own I am managing." The typically verbose First Minister elected not to elaborate overmuch on that point. He didn't need to let Florian into his process as he worked through every little issue pertaining to his presuppositions about the races. Did he make blanket assumptions about goblinoids being filthy, money-grubbing sheisters? Of course he did. Who didn't? But that wasn't helpful to broach in the here and now and he'd seen more than enough non-humans break the mould and defy his expectations that, perhaps, this Frankie would be another such example.

"Splendid."

[Florian]

Florian sighed, a deep, heavy sigh, and then he laughed, again. "I cannot fathom living one's life like this." He mimicked Brenner's nose bridge pinching. "It's fascinating. Many people punch down against Lysanrin and the matter of race has infected my daily life for my entire life. I know the stereotypes against me, I know the stereotypes against many others — but the closemindedness of Zaichaeri humans will never cease to amaze." He removed his hand, resting it on the desk.

"I will try for the 18th, then." He picked the date mostly at random and just hoped that it wouldn't conflict with any of Brenner's plans. "I'll go down there and let him know personally that the First Minister will be patronizing his tavern." Florian had nothing to write with and his handwriting was subpar at best with his left hand. Lyra had commissioned him a prosthetic, but that was back in Kalzasi and while he was sure she would be able to get it into Zaichaer, it would require a lab for her to actually fit him with it. But once he had his arm back, maybe everything would be easier again. For now he had to make do with his left.

"The place is called the Hobbled Gobbler." He did not elaborate that the entirety of the area seemed to be cheap, lewd jokes, considering the Hobbled Gobbler was in the Bulge area of the Knob. "Most of the patrons are, of course, nonhuman as well."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner did seem to take umbrage at the insinuation that he was closed-minded. Particularly after all he'd just done for Florian personally and all he intended to do to support the cause of those like him. Nostrils flaring slightly, he replied:

"Well, if so many non-humans didn't consistently affirm those biases and promote those stereotypes, they might be easier to erase." He opened his appointment book again, looking down sharply and scribbling a note down on the 18th.

"Lunchtime on the 18th, then." He was all business now. "Good. Do that." He seemed entirely focused on his appointment book at Florian spoke on. At least until he heard the name of the tavern. That drew his gaze upward to meet Albrecht's as he searched the Lysanrin's eyes for any sign that he was in jest. Perhaps he was joking to soften the stiffness that had overtaken Brenner moments earlier. When no such sign presented itself he sighed and grudgingly scribed the words 'Hobbled Gobbler' into his calendar.

"Naturally." He acknowledge the probability of being surrounded by non-humans. Perhaps he would even be the only human in the room. "You ought to warn Frankie that a security sweep will be done in advance of my visit." He paused, "Not because they are non-human, but because that is common practise. All of us in the new regime, yourself included, are at risk of assassination. Your friend Frankie did me no favours in that regard with his little article, but here we are." Brenner pursed his lips and made a note to see to a security complement for Florian as well.

"I will select your bodyguards personally so you don't end up with fellows like those chittering downstairs about your appointment." Brenner knew of a few humans in the military who'd miscegenated with other races. It would be better if Florian's guards were human, or they would only draw further scrutiny.

"I will make certain they are men who will not hate you for your racial differences." He glanced up and smiled darkly, "It will be up to you to see that they do not hate you for your personality."

[Rune]

R E V I E W

Lore:
Brenner: 13
Florian: 12

Points: 10 each

Injuries/Ailments: None

Loot: None

Notes: