Melanie
John De Burgh
The Council Forum

 "Those pathetic Lords... Comforting in their delusions". John thought to himself. A ledger sprawled in front of him, laid out across the same desk from which he had begun this war. The Lords on Iron Gate's ruling council had made every effort to withhold logistics from the front John had created, instead choosing to spend them on opulences and their own personal passion projects. It was treason, nothing short of it. As he read further, John remedied his anxiety by tapping a letter opener lightly on the end of the desk. The only light that came into the room oozed in from the door to the rest of the keep. Sentries reflected the candlelight off their jet black armor into John's platinum locks, which had grown long enough to graze the table. He refused to allow anybody to come within a league of him with any razor to cut his hair, and he likely would not let up until his last enemy lay dead or firmly placed underneath his heel. 

 A commotion introduced the councilmen as they brushed aside John's guards, leading themselves in with the same arrogant facade they had presented while John was one of their equals. Now, their fear was palpable. They hadn't a thought in their mind that uniting the realm was an ambition that could be achieved, so they felt comfort in setting away John's command as a suggestion in supporting their own selfish interests. Now, there was a new master of their destinies - one they had cheated for the entirety of the war. As they entered, John said nothing. He did not stand for them, as he would have in years past. Instead, he waved them to their seats. Of course, they attempted to engage John in their dishonest pleasantries to ascertain his mood.

"My Lord. I speak for the entire council when I say we are delighte-'' He said, before John cut him off by simply raising his hand. 

Once the councilmen had all seated themselves, John laid back in the head chair. He leaned the oak legs off the ground, lightly tapping the ledger with the sharp edge of the letter opener. He still had not said a word. The room was silent, save for the light tapping of the letter opener against the wide open ledger. An uncomfortable agitation brewed as it became clearer that John was waiting for an explanation. Councilmen looked at each other, before Lord Tanus of Millstone spoke. He was a road lord, and a very influential one. John met him before he had come into possession of Iron Gate while John served on the previous King's court. Of the councillors, he was by far and away the most powerful, but what was even more impressive was his ability to bullshit. 

"We know that the figures do not entirely reflect your wishes, my Lord. We were expecting a longer war - one that would require well placed funds to suit you in the grand picture." As he spoke, John slid out from his chair and stood up. John grasped the head of each Councillors chair as he walked past, letter opener still in hand. Confused, Tanus stopped speaking. Only until John sharply met his gaze did he decide to continue to defend his honor. "It would be ridiculous for us to send your provisions southward on the roads. They are infested with bandits and barbarians, as you know." He said, as John moved closer. "We had to invest in better roads, infrastructure! What did you fucking expect us to do?" He concluded, as John looked down upon him. Tanus could feel John's breath sliding down the back of his neck as he disappeared behind him. Finally, the dynamic had been too unbearable for the younger lord to bear. He attempted to slide up to his feet to match the Regent, but John placed his hand on his shoulder. 
__

"Relax, Tanus," John said calmly. "Be a good man and fetch me the ledger." He chimed to the Councillor at the right of the head table. Rather than approach John, they passed the paper down the table until it reached his hands again. Placing the letter opener down in front of Tanus, John once again unfurled the paper. "Hold this open for me; I need you to help me read it." Begrudgingly Tanus obeyed. He kept his hands on either side of the paper as John snatched the letter opener and plunged it into the parchment mere inches away from the young Lord's left hand. Tanus yelped, rearing his hand back. Immediately, a squad of soldiers swung open the doors and flooded into the forum. They took their places around the table, standing behind each member of the council respectively. 

"That was a command!" John roared, ripping the letter opener away from the paper. "Who are you to disobey the man who spent his fortune giving you everything?" He paced away from Tanus, walking around the room freely. "Would you rather spend your days coddled up in this prison? All your efforts have been for nothing if you have no Kingdom to rule." John dictated. "I failed you from the very beginning. I gave you the impression that this was a partnership of equals - a project of mutual cooperation... In my failure, you deceived me. You costed me lives - young, northern lives." Stepping back into the light, the marble that filled his eye socket shone. "You've deformed me, you've failed me, and you've betrayed me. My soldiers have slaughtered my enemies for this long, and they are more than willing to do it again." With that, he nodded to the guard commander. The sound of daggers against metal rang around the room as the guards unsheathed their blades halfway. Councilors went into a state of shock; some snapped their heads in John's direction displaying an expression pleading for mercy. Others were too mortified to move, looking at each other with bulging eyes. 
__

John laughed. "Fortunately, you are not my enemies. Surely you would not be so stupid as to oppose the man who put your country back together. My time on the field has taught me to reward my allies, and crush those who would oppose me like the roaches they are." The soldiers sheathed their blades, as Councillors audibly exhaled. "I do hope you gentlemen have learned your place in this new regime." John said, making his way to the exit. The soldiers followed, opening the door for him as he turned to the Councillors one last time. "We meet again tomorrow, I am summoning the war council." 

Making his way to his private chambers, the Lord was stopped by a cadet guard. "My Lord, there is somebody here for you. He said you were expecting him." It had been a few days, so the thought lingered in John's head for a moment before he recalled "Oh yes, Levi. Good. Guide him to my chambers." The cadet nodded, and made off. "Oh, and one more thing!" John called out. "Summon the Marshall too. I wish to see him."
Ronald
**Geigor "Ironhand" | The Council Forum**

Geigor hated the council chamber because it was a tomb. Gothic vaults of dark stone melded into an octagonal dome that failed to bring enough light into the room. The council had hung several bronze cylinders to the ceiling in the vain hope of catching the rays coming from the tall windows, but it wasn't enough. The lords of Irongate had chosen to make this their chamber because of its solemnity, but said solemnity was that of a mausoleum, that is to say, it reeked of death. If legend was to be believed, spire palaces like these used the be the dining halls of a blood-drinker aristocracy in the city's distant past. 
In short, this wasn't a hall fit to lead a great nation into the future. It was the resting crypt of a darker, bygone age.

There was no blood on the floor. A pity. John would've done well to get rid of those leeches. Many grand figures of Northwind were a necessary evil whose greed and relative incompetence was tolerated for the sake of a bigger picture, but in Geigor's eyes, the council were not one of those.

A man was sitting alone at the end of the table, and it took the Marshall many long seconds to recognize it was his liege, so much he had changed. The John that sat before Geigor was almost unrecognizable: old, scarred, blinded on one eye... He seemed to have aged a couple decades in several years. Most of all, the subtle confidence behind his taciturn demeanor was nowhere to be found.
John had returned triumphant but he looked beaten.

"You summoned me, John?" Asked the Marshall.
Melanie
John De Burgh
The Council Forum

 The light exposed John. It unveiled the cracks on his eroded skin, declaring the actuality of the Lord's disposition. It would be foolish to say that John De Burgh had changed, rather his true nature simply became more apparent. The Lord's visage betrayed him, grinning at the sight of his most esteemed companion. "Hello, Marshal... You look to be in good spirits. Please, sit." John requested. "Marshal" Was Geigor's title, but never one John used to refer to him. It was always Geigor. The pair had been at each other's side since John was a young man, and Geigor even younger still. They'd been a faithful dyad since the battles just north of the Rustlands. Now, they stood in the octagonal prison John had used to confine the egos of his partners turned subordinates. The Marshal still looked plenty his old self to the Lord Regent - a stout man whose assertive demeanor was itself a beacon of light in such a grim and constricted corridor. It was not the light of the hallway that exposed John, but the brightness of Geigor; the only man who John De Burgh had considered a friend.
Ronald
Geigor "Ironhand" | The Council Forum

John's use of the Marshall's title did not go unnoticed... Geigor had expected to reunite with a friend, but he struggled to recognize the man in front of him. He ran his nails trough aging dark hair and scratched the scars on his face, as he often did when anxious. It was a bad habit, one that ensured the scars never fully healed.

"I can explain the hangings," He said. Geigor was now convinced this was why he had been summoned. The policy had taken effect not long ago, and it had proven extremely unpopular. It's all the Marshall would ever hear about these days.

"Water theft was out of control. The criminals had started to organize, emboldened by your victories, of all things. They told themselves that if John de Burgh could unify Northwind against the south, then they could unifiy the gangs of the city against the Council. An example had to be made of them."
Melanie
John De Burgh
The Council Forum

 "The hangings," Geigor said. The first words spoken to his liege after years were of death. As the Marshal explained himself, John met his gaze with an element of sadness. His mind reverted to the Wolfmen he had put in chains after the Battle of the Beasts. The ones he hadn't spiked or left with Levi, he'd strapped to a horse drawn carriage and made a future of them. Between the pair, John had always been the more merciful. After all, Geigor was "The Ironhand", while John was simply that. 

It comforted the Lord that Geigor hadn't forgotten John's care for his people, but Geigor's grotesque mishap was not one John had even thought to mention at this reunion. While the Marshal spoke, John reached for his hand picking at his face. He would not watch another moment of the Marshal deforming himself - he didn't want his Geigor to become like him.

 John placed his hand over Geigor's on the table. "I'm not here to speak to you about the bodies, I'm here because I wish to free you of this mundane stewardship." John said, releasing Geigor's hand and sitting upright. "I've come back to Iron Gate to collect you.." He said, trailing off. "I am calling the banners... Summoning the host I've assembled while on campaign. I presume you know what our aim is."
Carol
Levi Cortez
Iron Gate

Levi watched as soldiers marched around the city. It was odd, Levi could recognize some of the men marching, but it was as if everything had completely changed about them. Their faces were somber, as if their life had been stripped away from them. Or maybe Levi was just paying too much attention. 

"Sir Leviticus! The Lord wishes to see you now, and has charged me with leading you to his chambers." The soldier standing in front of him looked no older than 16, not even three years older than his own son. 

"It's just Levi. I'm no knight, nor do I have any dreams of being one." Levi said, stepping off of the dark black warhorse. He rubbed its neck before wrapping the lead around a nearby post. 

"I won't be too long hopefully." He whispered, before taking the dark hood off of his head and shaking out the dark locks that needed trimming. He followed the soldier past the gate, holding the handle of his sword so it wouldn't annoy him. His bow was strapped onto his horse, but Levi couldn't trust his sword being lost. 

As they neared their destination, Levi could hear voices coming from the room. He paused, before walking around the corner and into the council room. There was another man in the room, but Levi didn't recognize him. 

"I apologize for being late. I had an unexpected visitor, but they are safe now." He said, before walking into the room. 

"I am Leviticus Cortezial, and I do not believe we have ever met." He said, looking at the other man in the room.