1 SEPTEMBER 3460

The Fox & Hounds is a tavern that everyone in Mnyesto has heard of, but few have ever visited. It is situated in one of the worse part of the city and looks very rundown. There are plenty of other places in Mnyesto to quench one's thirst and to enjoy an evening of conversation and entertainment.

It is a pleasantly warm evening as they each make their way to the Fox & Hounds. Nervous of the fact that they are about to be attending an illegal meeting, the attending of which could easily be a capital offense, they are constantly on their guard. They each take an indirect route to the tavern and constantly check over their shoulders to ensure that they are not being followed. It seems that they are not.

In turn, they all reach the Fox & Hounds and nervously push open the door. The tavern is small and largely empty. The only customers of the tavern are a group of four old men, playing dominoes quietly over their glasses of ale.

The barman, a tall middle-aged man with balding hair and a sad expression looks each of them in the eye as he cleans a glass. Seeing that they are all strangers to the tavern, he guesses what they are here for. Almost imperceptibly, he nods towards a staircase situated on his left. Taking the hint, each visitor walks up the steep wooden staircase up to an identically shaped room above.

There are several people in the room, sitting quietly around four tables at the nearest side of the room. At the opposite side of the room, an elderly man dressed in gray robes sits alone. He stands as each enters and, with a more powerful voice than would be expected from a man of his age , he says to each:

'Come, friend and be seated. Help yourself to the food and ale that you see before you, there's enough for all and more besides.'

The ale, fried hen and rye bread before them looks appetizing enough and so each takes a seat at one of the tables and starts to eat. As they eat, they look around at the others assembled there, seeing that there is a very strange selection of fellows surrounding them. A few more people enter the room, until just about all of the available seats are occupied. There is a nervous silence hanging over the room as everyone eats, with no one quite sure as to why they are here.

As the bells of the nearby Temple of Zlodey chime the 7th hour, the gray robed elder rises from his seat once more and begins to speak.

'Ladies, gentleman and ... erm ... others', he says, looking at some of the stranger members of the audience. 'I would firstly like to thank you all for having the courage to be here this evening. I would like you all to know that there is a grave danger to your person through being part of this meeting. Should you be in fear, then I suggest that you take your leave of this meeting right now.'

The strangers in the room look uneasy at the old man's words, but none move from their seats.

'Good, you have all passed the first test. I see that the hearts are strong of all assembled here.'

'My name is Svatopluk of Prostyeyov. It is possible that some of you may know my name, although those that do will probably be surprised to see me standing here today, as I have ensured that all save for a handful of good folk think that my body has long since been fodder for the worms. For those who do not know me, I would like to say that I was a noble who has long since been fighting for the freedom of Bohavia. I fought under Sigismund against the dwarves and elves, although I since have come to realize that this was an unworthy cause. I then fought hard against the Nyemetz against their attempts to colonize the country. It is to my eternal shame that I was not successful in these attempts. Since the occupation, I have been organizing resistance, but now find the bones of myself and my retainers are too brittle for us to still be effective in this capacity.'

'This brings me great regret, as I believe that now is the time for Bohavia to throw off the yoke of repression once and for all. The Nyemetz are currently at their weakest. The attacks of the Slovenes on the Eastern border means that they are spread weak throughout the country. Were widespread resistance be arranged, then it is my belief that the Nyemetz will be thrown back to whence their evil hordes originated.'

'It is for this reason why I have called you all here. I am looking for a small group of talented individuals who are loyal sons and daughters of Bohavia. I am looking for a special group of people strong in both body and mind who can forward the ultimate goals of the resistance movement, as myself and my retainers are no longer strong enough for the task.'

'I would ask each of you to tell me a little about yourself and your loyalty to the cause, so that I may be able to determine as to which of you will prove to be worthy of undertaking this heavy burden, which will no doubt lead to many dangers. If you have any questions of me, then now is the time to ask.'

'So which of you will be the first to speak?'

 For a painfully long time, no one speaks. They all look around at each other not wanting to be the first to reveal any information about themselves. It is Colin who finally breaks the silence. When Colin speaks, however, it is not to give details as to his background, nor to give his pledge of support to the revolution, but rather to question Svatopluk's motives and to state his views regarding the lack of worth of the nobility. He is immediately rebuked by Miette, herself a minor noble who gives support to Svatopluk and to question the worth of peasants. This exchange has surely set the cat amongst the pigeons, as one after another of the attendees come out in favor of either one school of thought or the other.

As Colin continues his speech questioning Svatopluk and his motives, everyone notices that Svatopluk's face begins to glow slightly pink. It is obvious that he is trying to control his temper. He is about to respond to Colin, when Winnacer speaks, to which Svatopluk listens intently.

As the heated conversation continues, Svatopluk begins to rub his aching back, and decides that it would be wise for him to be seated once more. It is obvious to him that this is not going to be a short meeting.

There is a pause in the conversation, and Svatopluk finally has a chance to speak:

'Sir Colin, I can tell by the hue of your skin and the air of your voice that you are not a native of Bohavia. It is hardly thus surprising that the name of myself and King Sigismund are not familiar to you.'

'For the name of King Sigismund, a look through any of the journals, which have not already been burned by the Nyemetz, will feature his name writ large, although not in the best of lights. My name will not so readily be found, for which I am not disappointed, as my involvement in the war against the dwarves and elves is not for which I wish to be remembered once my soul has left my body.'

He looks at Maire'

'My child, you show wisdom way beyond the years that you have walked this earth. I wish that it were that I had some of your wisdom when I was of your few years. I was taught as a child that loyalty was the greatest virtue, which is why I obeyed the command of the King and participated in these wars. I now realize that loyalty is no match for wisdom, as each man or woman must be able to make his or her own decisions. The heart must be the servant of the head'.

He returns to speaking to Colin.

'What you say is right, nobility in itself is a badge of nothing other than having the blood of notable ancestors running through your veins. There are, indeed, many bad nobles, but there are also many examples of good. History alone shall decide into which group I fall. I do, however, disagree in your notion that all rulers are bad. Take, for example, the case of Great King Karel and look at the greatness that he brought to Bohavia. Were he more than a mere mortal and have lived to this day, then I would guarantee that none of the disasters that have befallen this land would have occurred. My dream is that we shall find another ruler of the stature of Karen to return Bohavia to its former glories.'

'As for what I have to gain personally from such a situation, the true answer is very little, materially. To bring about the restoration of a benevolent monarchy before I die would be reward enough in itself for me. I believe that I have sinned greatly through my part in the civil war, and to play some part in the return of this nation to its former glory I see as penance in order that I may be received kindly by Radegast when my soul goes to meet with him.'

'Sir Colin, and Sir Corrow too, you are both right in thinking that fourteen people cannot take on the might of the Nyemetz themselves. Such an idea would obviously be foolish to the extreme. No, it is your minds that are the danger to the Nyemetz, not your sword arms. Although the Nyemetz are far from weak, the natives of Bohavia are stronger, but only if they would be able to set aside their past differences and work together in some way. This is far from an easy task, and beyond the capacity of an old man like me. In addition, there are many dwarves and elves still alive today who do not think highly of my name as I was once a fiercesome opponent to them, taking the lives of many sons of Shumava and Sudeten, to my eternal shame.'

At the uttering of the last sentence, Svatopluk becomes quite emotional and has to stop himself for a while.

All those in the room take little heed of Svatopluk's emotional state, but rather the arguing continues to become more and more agitated as one after another, the attendees views and biases are raised and are turned into major issues. In addition to the on-going debate regarding the relative worths of nobility and peasantry, the argument comes to include the prejudices of those whom are against the use of magick and those who practice the arcane arts, those whose roots belong in the realm of nature, and those who have only known life in towns and cities, as well as the on-going debate regarding whether the goal of liberating Bohavia is nothing but a crazy dream of a senile old man. As the arguments continue in their intensity, it sometimes looks as if those in the room are about to draw their weapons and impose their views on the others through force of arms.

Svatopluk's face turns from its former pinkish tone, to a stronger hue of red. However, anger is no longer the emotion that can be seen on his face, more a combination of embarrassment and fear. Not fear for his own life, but that the meeting will end in disarray.

'Ladies and gentlemen, please' he says, trying to make himself heard over the heated discussion that is going on all around him.

'I am glad that we have assembled here a group with keen minds, sharp tongues and fiery hearts. These are the elements that have been lacking in Bohavia these past twenty years. I am glad to have these types present in the room this evening. Those that simply sit at the back of the room and stay silent are representative of the typical Bohavians who have sat back enduring hardship rather than bringing about its change. There is no room in the group which I am trying to assemble for such types. Without action comes naught.'

'It also gladdens my heart that we have assembled here tonight such a combination of different types of sons and daughters of Bohavia. Only through utilizing the knowledge and experience of all different types can we hope to succeed in our aims. However, such a perfect opportunity will be lost unless our differences can be settled here tonight. Were the Nyemetz Protector himself here eavesdropping on our conversation, then I'd wager that he would do nothing to stop our meeting, but would rather chuckle to himself that the Nyemetz have nothing to fear from the citizens of Bohavia when they cannot raise e'en a small group without the danger of it turning into a bar room brawl!'

'So, please, I beseech you all this evening to try and find some way of putting your past and your beliefs behind you in order to work towards the common good.'

'Whether you are of high birth' he says looking towards Miette, 'or of low' he says looking at Corrow. 'Whether you are a forest dweller', he says looking at Yaz, 'or urban', he says looking at Darius. 'Whether you are a man-at-arms' he says, looking at Xavier 'or whether you are practiced in the art of magick' he says looking at Maire', 'Bohavia needs you all in order to look to its future.'

'While I do not expect anyone to change their strong views, as such a change of heart would show a very shallow character, I hope that we can arrive at a situation by the end of the evening whereby we can elect a group who put the common goal ahead of their petty differences.'

'Please, continue your debates, as I feel that now is the ideal time in order that we all know where each of us stands, however I hope that at least some form of understanding can emerge between the factions that I see being formed in this room, so that we may continue upon our quest.'

'Once more, I am given more questions regarding what our quest shall be, which I shall answer gladly, although I am sure that you will appreciate that I cannot give concrete information before I know who is behind our cause, and who is against.'

'The ultimate goal is easy to see. My ultimate goal is to bring about the freedom of Bohavia and to overthrow the Nyemetz, returning our fair country to its former glory. I appreciate that this goal is very far away and will take many years to accomplish. However, it is true that a journey of a thousand miles starts with but a single step and from tiny acorns do might oaks grow. The same is true in this situation. I am not at all suggesting that we leave this room and start rampaging through the streets of Mnyesto killing the Nyemetz blocking our path. Were we to be so foolish, then I doubt whether we would even reach the end of the street with our lives. No, rather we should use our minds and cunning in order to achieve our goals piece by piece. This is why it gladdens me in many ways to see such lively debate her tonight, as the pen and the tongue are much more deadly weapons than the sword. Whereas your endeavors will bring you into many dangers where strong arms will be called for, the goal will only be achieved by words and not weapons. More than this, I cannot say at this point for fear of giving away too much information to those who may later use it against us.'

'This is all that I have to say for now. Please, let your lively debate continue, but please let your tongues do your fighting and not your weapons!'

The debate continues but, following Svatopluk's impassioned speech, some of the more outspoken ones at the meeting gradually start to move their hostile attitudes towards those holding opposing views.

Svatopluk's face starts to lighten in color a little as he starts to think that there is a slight chance that this strange group can start to work together. Possibly.

He smiles about the point about his 'pen is mightier than the sword' and replies:

'Good fellow, I fear you are taking my words too literally, it is not my intention that you copy manuscripts, but rather....'

*Knock* *Knock*

Svatopluk turns his eyes towards the door.

'Enter'

A small lad of around ten years old, comes through the door. He is somewhat nervous at being the center of attention of so large a group. He scampers up to Svatopluk and pulls a letter out of his pocket which he gives to him. Svatopluk thanks the boy and gives him a couple of coppers, taken from his purse. The boy scampers back through the door, closing it behind him.

There is a hush as Svatopluk slowly reads the letter. All can tell from his countenance that it is not good news.