The coronation ceremony was followed by a Grand Feast that consumed the entire city. Every tavern door was flung wide, and the wine flowed as freely as the Veridian River. The message was clear- eat and drink until your heart is full, for the tab belonged to the House of Throne. After all, they were one of the wealthiest families on the continent, rivaling the Aghaz Dynasty of Indoris itself.
Inside the Auric Spire, however, the feast was less of a celebration and more an exercise in currying favor with the new Lord. Guests and dignitaries approached Lorian with wide grins and the veiled intent to manipulate the young ruler for their own gain. Lorian gleefully entertained them all, playing the role of a malleable, impressionable youth like a pro. Most left their discussions with the Prince feeling satisfied, being convinced they had already tucked the young man safely into their purses. Only a few experienced eyes saw through Lorian's facade, recognizing the trap behind his naive smile, and quietly checked themselves.
Not everyone was enjoying the revelry however. In a shadowed corner of the hall, three of the most powerful figures in the Septagon Accord had gathered in a group- General Marcus Ironclad of Aethelgard, First Trader Zaira Zohanar of Port Azure, and Jarl Borin Stoneheart of Glimmerfall.
They had not come merely to mourn Elmsworth or witness a crowning; they had come to weigh the new Lord. For years, they had coveted the leadership of the Accord. While the cities were technically sovereign equals, Veridia's immense wealth had always allowed it to act as the 'face and voice' of the conglomerate. Elmsworth's untimely demise had felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to shift the balance of power, but Lorian's invigorating speech had signaled that Veridia would not be abdicating its seat so easily.
Their hushed discussion caught the attention of Azgar Zorat.
"May I join this illustrious circle?" Azgar approached with a grin that wasn't reflecting in his eyes, "Unless, of course, I am interrupting something serious."
"That you did, boy," Jarl Borin grumbled, his thick beard was bristling with annoyance.
"Oh, forgive the Jarl," Zaira said, in a apologetic yet playful tone, "He clearly fails to recognize the great Azgar Zorat, Duke of Nagash. You are more than welcome to join us, Duke."
"So, you're the 'famous' Duke Azgar," General Marcus scoffed, leaning against a pillar, "You have quite the nerve showing your face here after the stunt you pulled with Lord Elmsworth."
"Now, don't be so harsh on the Duke," Zaira chided with a fake pout, trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh no, you misunderstand," Marcus waved a hand, "I was actually admiring his spine. It takes a certain kind of man to walk back into a house he just tried to burn down."
Azgar remained unruffled, keeping his expression sincere, "I take no offense, General. I understand the pain Lord Elmsworth's passing has caused you all. After all, he was your beloved leader. You were his loyal colleagues for years, your cities thriving under his... guidance."
"WHAT THE- " Borin roared, before catching himself. He lowered his voice to a harsh, angry whisper. "What the hell are you spouting, Duke? We were all equals! We were partners, not his underlings! He was a fellow Lord, nothing more!"
"Oh, forgive me," Azgar said, sounding genuinely apologetic, "I was misinformed. In the Empire, the common belief is that the City-States are led by Veridia. We assumed you were sovereign in domestic matters, but guided by Veridia in all things external. My apologies; I must be wrong."
"A bunch of trash!" Marcus chuckled, draining his glass in one gulp, "You people in the Empire have some truly weird fantasies."
Azgar simply nodded and grinned, letting the silence hang just long enough to be uncomfortable.
"It was funny, indeed," Zaira pressed on, her smile turning sharp as a blade, "However, I doubt a Duke of the Great Noble Empire has graced us humble city lords just to share his misconceptions. What is your true business?"
"Five hundred Solars says the boy has come to ask for our help in dismantling Veridia once and for all," Borin said, pulling a heavy coin pouch from his belt and thumping it onto a nearby table.
"With due respect," Azgar's tone suddenly stiffened, "if the Empire truly wanted to dismantle Veridia, the Nagash Duchy alone could finish the task with the Emperor's blessing. Real power comes from the edge of steel, not the sparkle of gold. I believe General Ironclad would agree."
Borin opened his mouth to retort, but Zaira moved between them, "Stop it boys! Enough with you and your measuring contests! It is a night for fun. Duke, I suspect you have something more interesting to share than threats."
"You are right, First Trader. Forgive my manners," Azgar said, his voice dropping back to previous humble, cordial tone, "I do have a lucrative offer- and some dangerous news. I hesitated to speak because I doubted you could act without your 'leader', but since you say you are truly independent..."
"Get on with it," Marcus commanded.
Azgar leaned in, his voice was now barely audible over the music, "The Succession War is about to begin. There are three contenders for the Ivory Throne: my friend and lord, First Prince Ahiran Aghaz; the Second Prince Eilan, Excellency of the Mint; and the Third Prince Lehan."
"Wait," Borin interrupted, "Wasn't Ahiran the clear successor? He has the support of the Army and the Court."
"He did," Azgar whispered, a look of feigned worry crossing his face, "But after the recent debacle here in Veridia, the Emperor has declared the throne open to all. The succession is in chaos."
"So it's Arihan against the Second Prince?" Marcus asked.
"If only it were that simple. The grapevine says the Emperor himself favors the Third Prince, Lehan. However not only the loyalists, but the scheming lords are flocking to him now as well, because they think he'll be a timid puppet they can manipulate. The power-hungry are playing Kingmaker."
"I see," Zaira nodded slowly, "But we are outsiders. Why tell us? Our voices carry no weight in the High Court of Indoris."
"No," Azgar shook his head, "But the Second Prince has the backing of the merchant guilds. We need a counter-balance. That is why I have come to you three. We need your support for Prince Ahiran! Zaira, your gold; Borin, the arms and armor of Glimmerfall; and Marcus, the veteran steel of Aethelgard. With your help, Ahiran would establish supremacy and take the Ivory Throne- provided, of course, you can act without Veridia's permission."
"That isn't the issue," Zaira said, waving the concern away, "But I have a question. Why us? Veridia has more gold than Port Azure, and why ask Aethelgard for soldiers when Valoria is there as well?"
"Exactly," Marcus interjected, his eyes narrowed down, "Your Prince already has the Army. The wealth of Port Azure I understand, but why my men? This smells fishy, Duke."
The slowly encircled the Serpent.