Post by Landon Greycloak on Feb 21, 2014 23:34:10 GMT -5
3rd of August, 23CLE Royal palace, Demacia 18:30 o'clock
Landon and his escort rushed towards the royal palace. The walk from the harbor to the palace was a painful one to say the least. They arrived only at the noon of that day and Landon did not have the time to prepare himself accordingly.
He brushed the droplets of sweat that dotted his forehead as he met with the front gate's guards. After a quick chat and showing the letter that had the king's seal, he was permitted entrance to the palace grounds. He went through a similar process at the palace's gates. The security seemed heavier than usual and considering recent events, Landon wasn't surprised.
A servant showed them to the room where Jarvan the 4th, king of Demacia would meet them. Landon instructed his guards to wait outside and entered the room.
Post by Exemplar of Demacia on Mar 5, 2014 19:37:26 GMT -5
The office of Prince Jarvan Lightshield the Fourth came into view as the attendant opened the door wide. He announced Mister Landon Greycloak with as much deference as one could expect for a merchant lord. He was nobility by right, but not of a title that would compel Jarvan IV's notice. The commerce empire Landon headed was no small consideration. Jarvan IV even stood as he was announced, acknowledging his guest with a slight inclination of his head. The door would close behind him, leaving Landon and the Prince in relative privacy.
The desk, clean of all but a few neatly stacked stationary items and pens, shone a deep and reflective black, wood polished and lacquered until it resembled glass. The Prince motioned to a chair, sitting once. His face said little besides the slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes were wide and piercing, and he sat with a stillness that showed Landon Greycloak, and the interests of the White-Rose company had his full attention.
"Lord Greycloak, I am willing to hear your proposal, whatever it may be."
Post by Landon Greycloak on Mar 5, 2014 19:53:13 GMT -5
Landon courtly nodded to prince Jarvan back. He might've been of minor nobility, but his great fortune allowed him to skip some of the formalities. He also suspected they'd be rather dull in this meeting.
"Straight to the business, are we now? Good." He said, pacing towards a chair in front of Jarvan's desk. "Don't mind me taking a seat now right? It has been a... Rough day. The sea wasn't very favorable and I arrived just this noon."
Without waiting for Jarvan's response, he immediately put down his offer. "Look, I know you're busy now and I'm sure you haven't invited me for some ideal chatter, so let me put my points straight..." He cleared his throat.
"I know the economic status of Demacia isn't... Well... "In a bad shape" will be exaggerating. You're still recovering from an unfortunate war where we all lost loved ones, and of course the latest terror that struck your house. So let me make this clear, I'm not here for ideal chatter and I'm not here to courtly greet you. My offer is this, take it because you have no choice.
I'm willing to donate to Demacia a total worth of 1,000,000 gold coins. That is, however, if you will accept my proposition." That sum was quite a large amount of The White Rose Co.'s extra revenue, but it was worth it if his offer would be accepted.
Post by Exemplar of Demacia on Mar 5, 2014 22:42:38 GMT -5
The man was quick and persuasive, qualities Jarvan IV could respect. Trust however, was a separate matter. The Prince held his ground, unaffected by the weight of the White-Rose's purse.
"With respect, as much as you might own in my city, the economic status of Demacia does not require your saving. We will recover regardless, as we always have. The people rebuild, the walls rise again, and trade flows once more. My father's death is not an opportunity."
A calm tone covered the defiance in his eyes, an emotion he could scarcely contain. Emotions roiled beneath the surface, but he did not raise his voice, nor did he let it play upon his features. It was his eyes that spoke of a fresh pain, a nation shaken by fear, and a foundation of oldest stone.
"However, the White-Rose has a reputation for mutually beneficial agreements with its trading partners. I am sure this is somewhat due to your leadership, so I will hear you. You're a shrewd businessman Lord Greycloak, but while I appreciate your forwardness you must understand that without knowing what you want in return, your offer means little.
Donation is a strong word. Would you have me believe that the storied Landon Greycloak asks for nothing in return?"
Post by Landon Greycloak on Mar 6, 2014 1:47:58 GMT -5
"Don't wound me with assuming that I will use such a terrible thing as an opportunity. I'm not here for 'your' city because this city is as much as yours as it is mine. My family, my children live here! So don't you alienize me from it, understood?" He said with a rather unnaturally calm voice.
"Now," He said. "I call it a 'donation' because what I ask of you won't give me any gain directly. What I want are three things. Those things will not only recover this city, they will improve it. Make it better.
First, I want a public, government funded school which I will continously help funding that is open for all who can afford to send their children to it. I expect elementary levels of school, basic math, language, history of Demacia, literature, those sort of things. I want people to be able to count to more than 1,000 and to know more before they're required to enlist which is usually the first time the common class gets any real studies. The details can be covered later, but this is the base.
Another thing I want is for you to expand on your relationship with Piltover. This helps both you and me, in trade and in progress. The technology of the city helped me more than once to survive my rather... Unfortunate condition and it will help you rebuild in more ways than you know. A bond of friendship will be a lot more than what you have now.
The third thing I want is to you to at least consider a business proposition. I do not require you to accept it, but I want you to hear it out fully and sleep on it and accept other's council about it. I will not delve into it now because we're discussing about the donation now.
While my name carries a power and a feel of burden and manipulation, I am sincere with you here and you can even have your mages test it. I want to rebuild my home, I want revenge on my loved ones just as you. But I also look for the future. Demacia is before anything else, my home. Granted, I'm not at home a whole lot of time but I care and worry. Are we clear here, my liege?"
Landon concluded with a long sigh and laid back. This discussion took quite a bit of him after the rushed day.
Post by Exemplar of Demacia on Mar 10, 2014 22:52:39 GMT -5
There was a long pause as Jarvan VI watched his guest who was showing signs of tiredness. "You know how to run a company Lord Greycloak, but you have no concept of how to run a country. These people are not my employees, they are my subjects. If they are not adequate to your recruiting standards, then by all means teach them, but you will deeply disappointed if you expect me to change state policy on schooling to your recommendations. The grammar schools of every district teach all that a child needs to know. The College of Magic and the Royal Academy are chartered to continue that schooling for those who are found worthy."
The prince reached beneath his desk, pulling out a map of Demacia and spreading it across his desk. Leaning forward, he pressed a finger to the city center, where they now sat. "You understand the scale you're conversing on?" He gestured to the city, to each quarter in turn. "Six million people call Demacia their home. They must all submit to the draft if we are to survive, if we are to prosper. You want to teach them literature and mathematics. Before they carry swords I want to tech them how to use them, but first they need to know why they fight. You'd have holed up in academies? Weak and pale? Counting the heads of their enemies and summing their fears instead of standing strong against all odds?"
He paused, sitting straight again. A deft hand pulled quill and ink, and he began marking the institutes of higher learning on the map, first the College of Magic, then the R.A. and a few of the private colleges dispersed throughout the city. "You want a school? Fine. I will give you a charter. Take your money and build your school, but understand this." He left the map resting open, setting his pen to the side. "These are the schools the people know and trust. The nobility value tradition, as do the common people. Where the nobles have studied, their children oft go. Where the blacksmith labors, his sons will follow. Whomever you wish to teach, you must convince them. I will not compel them."
"As for your areas of study, the city of Piltover is like an infant still learning to walk. They have law, but not loyalty. Power, but faltering discipline. I would be their ally, but I cannot force their hand. If they continue to act as if neutrality gains them anything, then I will not be surprised. I can extend my hand to them... and may have planned to... but what guarantee could you ask of me?"
"If you have something else to propose, speak it now. We are... both busy men and the world keeps turning."
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