Schemes Between Friends

    After making a focused but cautious departure from the lost battle of Shibuya, Baroness Wake journeyed for a time, finishing some important (and private) business. She has not been back in Eas very long at this point, and has turned her mind to the defense of the castle, when and if it should prove necessary.

    She is in her room, set at a table that has been prepared, with a reasonable but simple model showing the surrounding lands and likely entry points, as well as possible paths of egress, should the worst come to pass.

    Whatever is on the Baroness' mind, she conceals it with an even expression. She is occasionally relaying chim messages, perhaps related to what she views as likely or vital matters for the defense.

Hot mulled cider. That is the first indicator of Robert's presence. The warm, spiced scent tiptoes through the room, embracing it warmly with memories of holidays past. Another time, another world, another life.

It is also the last obvious indicator of his presence. He's not inclined to announce himself, or to make any noises. He's certainly not inclined towards dancing around in front of Wake to attract her attentions. And so he simply remains where he is, brown-eyed graze tracking Wake's movements as he sips from his mug in companionable silence.

Why yes. He is a bit of an asshole. Glad you noticed.

    The Baroness takes her time to notice him. In fact, she speaks before she bothers even looking, and it makes clear her current mood.

    "If you are here to stroke your ego by sneaking up on a legend, my patience was exhausted five visits ago by your fellow striplings. If not, and you are an assassin, please save me the time and get started, because patience is a virtue that I no longer put any stock in."

    Her gaze is directed at Robert a few moments later. It's rare to see Wake angry, but she's certainly making little effort to conceal it. When she recognizes Robert, however, she rises smoothly from her seat.

    "Of course, old friends ought to be properly announced, but I ordered my staff to be evacuated with the rest of my people some time ago." Wake's tone and expression change instantly to warm and welcome and she glides into a curtsey.

SpritesHero's gaze flashes with amusement over his steaming mug of cider, lips tightening in an expression that threatens to be a smile. Somehow he manages to keep his expression (mostly) grave.

"Didn't feel like protocol tonight, and my ego was extinguished when I got shitkicked by some midget princess" Robert explains, dipping his head in return. It's nothing like so formal as her's. But then she's the etiquette master. Competing on that front is rather pointless. "Apologies." Not that any trace of regret dares to touch on those features of his.

He approaches then, fingers tight around his mug, to survey the map before her. "I was local and thought I'd see how you're doing." Yes. He just happened to be 'local'.

    "Nothing is local to Eas, Robert," Wake points out. "But nonetheless, it seems rather likely to be a target sooner or later. And I do regret the unpleasant welcome. Some energetic 'fans' of my past endeavors have found it most amusing to sneak in on me, now that I have risen again to some measure of relevence. It was cute the first time, but I may have threatened the last at knife point."

    She gestures to a seat, "Feel free to sit. I think we are as prepared as we are going to be for this.. grand gesture of defense." She shakes her head, going on, "Of course there is no winning in a major engagement, but we have to use the advantage of this terrain to cost them a few heads. Hopefully more than just a few."

"Nothing local to Eas until recently," Robert corrects her with a finger uplifted, though he turns around quickly enough to snag a chair. He plunks it down in front of him with conviction and sits. Improperly, of course, with his front against its back. As for his cup, it is neatly set aside on a convenient nearby table. "May they break their teeth on your bones."

With which questionable choice of phrasing he props his chin up on his forearms, continuing to survey her for a long several moments. "A pity the weather is so nice," he comments, after hazarding a quick look out into the star-studded night's darkened skies. "It won't pressure them. Not for some time yet."

    "We haven't the depth of Russia, nor the reliable ally of a terrifying winter," Wake agrees. "Which means our playbook cannot be quite Stalin vs. Hitler, but must go for something more modest. Which still gives us a great deal of options, regardless of the superiority of our enemy."

    She directs a smirk at Robert, "And they are.. quite superior in the field. That much I can assure you. Shibuya was taken at a trot from us. They didn't lose much in its taking, either. I hope to knock a few heads off in this conflict. Particularly those who require real replacement and not just a swift run from an automatic ressurrection."

SpritesHero's nose crinkles, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he considers Wake, the map forgotten. It is, perhaps, a bit of an uncomfortable silence filled with a truly diverse community of the most ghastly expressions known to mankind. Whoever said thinking is pretty?

At last Robert acquiesces, hand dropping to his side and fishing something out from his inventory. There's a single metallic clink, and the glittering path of something shiny arcing its way through the air in Wake's direction. 'Penny for your thoughts', the gesture seems to say. Even if it's only a bronze coin and not a penny at all.

    Wake snares the coin, flipping it agilely along the backs of her fingers before examining it. She peers at the coin in silence for a time, then looks to the map.

    "We'll fall within a day, most likely. If the Dukedom doesn't put them to a severe test and they assemble an army at the gates, only the slender nature of the road will limit their pace. It is sad to think that our beautiful road shall be used by the enemy, but that is the nature of these situations."

    She turns her attention from the map to Robert. From now on, she speaks via Chimlink. "I have not been idle, nor do I expect to win this war by holding territory. We need not even win major battles, so long as we remained unconquered. So long as we maintain a pressure that never allows itself to be battered down with force."

    Wake takes her time in expanding upon her thoughts. "I have already assembled an alliance of forces that span this world. They stand ready to do what must be done. If we are to win, the enemy must reach out to crush us in their grasp, only to find that we are as elusive as the wind."

SpritesHero transitions to chimlink easily enough, though perhaps not so effortlessly as Wake. Certainly, as far as subterfuge is concerned, the fact that he speaks as much with his hands, his form, and his expression as he does with his words means the follow-up conversation isn't exactly secret. The details, sure. The rest? Ehhhhhh.

"Won't be easy to keep your folks going through an endless slog of attrition," he remarks at last through their chimlink, head canting to the side as his brow furrows hard down the middle in thought. "And the fact that it is an alliance of forces that you've assembled...Adventurers don't and can't fit the bill. But consider me mystified. Where have you managed to find this persistent and loyal army?"

    Wake tilts her head and smiles. "There are some who tire easily, but not those who are already quite used to difficulty and view their way of life as something worth fighting for." She has no interest in teasing the lead for long, however.

    "There are many outcasts living outside the safety of city walls. They make their way through stealth, secrecy, and are accustomed to hardship. I should not refer to these people as 'they' any more. They are my people; I am in their service. Nomads of the Westelend, cait sith and were fangs in the Ninetails who have broken off to be their own, and many others. I will guide my people through this conflict and beyond."

SpritesHero's eyebrows visibly draw together and up in the middle. His eyes slide shut for a breath as he contemplates, then at last flicker open once more. The silence over the chimlink is thick enough to be served up as a cheesecake. At last he speaks through the chimlink.

"And what does that mean?" he asks of her. "To guide your people beyond this conflict, seeing as how they are not--or at least were not--of Eas? How did you get this set of independent-minded, hardy folk to give up their existence and follow your banner? To see this invasion as a threat rather than something that matters little to them?"

    "It was not trivial, but there was no fabrication, I assure you. My new allies are struggling to survive and feel rejected or ignored by the nations whose borders include them but whose politics do not. To lose their way of life is unacceptable. The arrival of the Palace Landers is a threat to their future and they will stand against it. What was lacking there was planning. There was no vision, no leader, none to bind these groups together and show them how strong they could be."

    The Baroness considers her next words carefully. She is in no rush to make hasty statements. "As for not being of Eas, I would say they are. I serve them now and whenever this ends, I will continue to work for their interests, wherever they dwell. And yes, I am very much aware that this will stir up a hornet's nest in the end, but it is worth it."

SpritesHero exhales on a long breath, fingers interlacing before him atop the chair's back, thumbs tapping one against the other. At last his shoulders rise and fall in the faintest of shrugs. "At least you seem to have given it thought, with regards to the consequences," he concedes, his thoughts flowing through pursed lips. "As to the hornet's nest. What is your counterweight to that hornet's nest? What do you believe to carry sufficient..." A pause, a furrowing of his brow once more. Reassessment. "You will continue to work for their interests, wherever they dwell? Even when that hornet's nest is kicked good and hard?"

    Wake tilts her head, smiling ever so slightly, one brow arched. "I am not Britain after the Great War, Robert. I keep my promises. I may miss my guess here, but if this unfolds as it seems like it will, at least some of the powers that be may prove.. remarkably idle in the defense of their lands. Perhaps even complicit."

    A pause follows. Not for Wake to gather her thoughts, but to allow that some time to be considered. "If that is true of any of the powers, the first nest in need of a swift kick shall be revealed. Should it prove otherwise, alliances can be expanded and conditions set to benefit those I serve."

SpritesHero's glance is a severe, if nonjudgemental, 'oh no you don't'. "Resentment doesn't wait for a convenient target," he points out, his tones clipped even through their mental chimlink. "And the rejected, the outcast, the oppressed do not look kindly upon their oppressors. Which begs the question as to what you intend to do with that resentment." Again the eyebrows go upwards, the thumbs tap one against the other. "And what you intend for them to do with that resentment of theirs. Because it isn't sounding to me like you intend to extinguish it."

    Wake's eyes shift for a moment, glancing vaguely to her right. "I am considering several options, depending on the way events unfold. Much of it depends upon the wishes of the people and the outcome of diplomatic measures. Gaining a measure of independence can be a tricky matter."

    She directs her focus back to Robert's face. "Of course, the real nest I will be stirring-up is not a Lander nation, though they may be asked to give up something." No doubt a certain alliance will not appreciate her meddling with Lander politics.

SpritesHero just stares at Wake. It's a heavy, lidded stare. A highly skeptical 'Really? Really?' that remains unvoiced. His lips twist first one way then the other. His nose crinkles. At last there's another long sigh and a fumbling around in his inventory.

A second coin--silver this time--arcs through the air in Wake's direction. It's accompanied by a dubious glance from Robert, though he nonetheless waits expectantly.

    Wake snares the coin and laughs suddenly. "You keep doing this and I am going to have to start removing articles of clothing." She smirks at the thought.

    "Ultimately we have a dangerous enemy. We cannot beat them with standard tactics, but history provides lessons, for those who studied. Our enemy is both stronger and has more resources. However, they fight from across an ocean. This can become expensive, if it can just drag on and on for months or even years, cracks undetectable today will fracture until those who press for the continuance of war do so at great hazard."

    Wake pauses before going on. "Our war is not fought for land. Let them claim it! Every inch of it is simply a liability that they must hold. Meanwhile, we will slip through their nets and ensure that they never feel safe on our shores."

"Careful, Baroness. You're a woman of your word. Wouldn't want to break that now," Robert suggests after a brief moment, his expression sleepily hooded. Her explanation is heard in silence, and then waved away. Almost dismissively, really.

"Not that. The afterwards. The several options, the pushback. I'd like to know precisely how far you're going to be pushing this. And begging your pardon, but I don't believe for a moment that you'd let your future plans depend on the whims of others. Minor adaptations, sure. But dependence? Unlikely."

    Baroness Wake clearly isn't interested in being too pegged-down on her approach. "It is important that I retain flexibility and certainly I must focus on my longterm aspirations." She knows that such vague suggestions will not satisfy Robert, of course.

    Wake pauses, determining just what she is willing to divulge at this point. "I would say a few things at this point. First, I am confident that the Palace Landers will never treat my people fairly. I believe they would destroy any outlier groups. Or simply enslave them. The invaders will not ignore them. Second, I am open to many solutions. If those I serve are free to live according to their beliefs and safe, that will do. Third, this agreement does not expire. I intend on playing a very long game, indeed as one permanently tied to the cause."

SpritesHero considers Wake before slowly pushing himself to his feet. He stretches, languidly, slowly and methodically working any tightness or discomfort out of his muscles. His hand lifts to his shoulder, thumb digging into the back of his neck to relieve a particularly stubborn bit of tension. Finally he speaks once more. Out loud this time, not through chimlink. "You'll need the fox if you intend to come out on top in an operation of attrition," he suggests as he begins making his way over to the window. "But you already knew that, didn't you. Weeks ago." A fleeting smile, if a troubled one carrying hints of irritation. "I look forward to seeing how you manage to leash her, Baroness." A finger lifts, pre-emptive. "Yes, leash, regardless of how high you may hold her in your esteem. Best of luck and health to you and yours."

    Wake rises with Robert. Perhaps she is nodding, or perhaps she is simply bowing her head in farewell. Her words provide no clarity, "She is of incredible importance."

    "Stay safe, Robert! The world is a dangerous place, indeed. I look forward to our next meeting."