08-16-2023, 07:00 PM
At the Palace de Salad, the mood following the Thraxian declaration of war was frantic. A group of Saladian leaders had gone to the Palace to attempt to talk some sense into the Marquis following his disastrous letter.
Leading the group was the Prime Minister, Leighton Taylor. Accompanying him were Valentin Daucourt, the head of what passed for a Saladian military, and Police Commissioner Katherine Rudhall. Quinn Mitchell, the head of the Air Patrol, was also with them. Normally, the head of the Naval Patrol would also have come with them. But since Piper Drummond had quit, there was no head of the Naval Patrol. Daucourt, in particular, was regretting that vacancy as the Thraxians would most likely arrive by sea.
The group had poor expectations, at best, of being able to talk sense into an inherently unsensible man. But even their low expectations would be disappointed.
"Sir, I must again point out that we can only muster 1,368 soldiers and police combined to meet any invasion force," Daucourt said in frustration. "We can't possibly fend off even a minor invasion force with such a small number of combatants."
"Nonsense! The natural martial spirit of the Saladian will prevail! We shall open up the island armories and arm the citizens. They shall aid in our defense," the Marquis said. He was practicing his sword-fighting in the mirror, not even looking at the delegation.
Taylor sighed irritably. "You are talking about fighting a country whose population outnumbers us almost 300 to 1. Even if we armed every single person on the islands, including the elderly and babies, we still can't stop an invasion! The only course of action is that you must apologize to King Shapur and sue for peace!"
"Apologize? And allow insults to our sovereignty and the House of de Salad to go unanswered? Absolutely not, Taylor. If you're too afraid to fight, just say so. But there shall be no apology."
"If that is your stance, Marquis," Taylor said in a tone of warning, "then I shall have no choice but to call a meeting of the Council of Custodians and seek to override your decision."
Bastien stopped his self-dueling, and looked at Taylor. "You misunderstand the situation, sir. At a time of war, the monarch's power reigns supreme for the safety of the nation. Guards, arrest the Prime Minister. You shall undertake no coup while I reign, sir."
As Taylor shouted and protested, he was dragged out of the throne room by the palace guards.
"Does anyone else have an objection?" the Marquis asked. No one else dared speak. "Good. Let us stand united, instead of squabbling, and defend our homeland!"
---
Later that day, on the grand balcony of the Palace de Salad, the Marquis addressed his people. "I know that the odds are seemingly against us, and our situation seems grave. But, Saladians have triumphed over the odds before. Our ancestors landed on these islands and built our nation out of nothing. We have defeated the greatest of challenges in the past. And we shall defeat this one! Together, we shall defeat the Thraxians and their plague of creatures! Take to the walls, the ramparts and the barricades, citizens! Salad Land shall prevail!"
A smattering of claps and cheers greeted his speech. "Uh....yay?" one very unreassured citizen said noticeably.
Convinced the people were behind him, the Marquis went back inside the Palace to plan the defense of Salad Land. His first task: finding a suitably martial outfit.
Leading the group was the Prime Minister, Leighton Taylor. Accompanying him were Valentin Daucourt, the head of what passed for a Saladian military, and Police Commissioner Katherine Rudhall. Quinn Mitchell, the head of the Air Patrol, was also with them. Normally, the head of the Naval Patrol would also have come with them. But since Piper Drummond had quit, there was no head of the Naval Patrol. Daucourt, in particular, was regretting that vacancy as the Thraxians would most likely arrive by sea.
The group had poor expectations, at best, of being able to talk sense into an inherently unsensible man. But even their low expectations would be disappointed.
"Sir, I must again point out that we can only muster 1,368 soldiers and police combined to meet any invasion force," Daucourt said in frustration. "We can't possibly fend off even a minor invasion force with such a small number of combatants."
"Nonsense! The natural martial spirit of the Saladian will prevail! We shall open up the island armories and arm the citizens. They shall aid in our defense," the Marquis said. He was practicing his sword-fighting in the mirror, not even looking at the delegation.
Taylor sighed irritably. "You are talking about fighting a country whose population outnumbers us almost 300 to 1. Even if we armed every single person on the islands, including the elderly and babies, we still can't stop an invasion! The only course of action is that you must apologize to King Shapur and sue for peace!"
"Apologize? And allow insults to our sovereignty and the House of de Salad to go unanswered? Absolutely not, Taylor. If you're too afraid to fight, just say so. But there shall be no apology."
"If that is your stance, Marquis," Taylor said in a tone of warning, "then I shall have no choice but to call a meeting of the Council of Custodians and seek to override your decision."
Bastien stopped his self-dueling, and looked at Taylor. "You misunderstand the situation, sir. At a time of war, the monarch's power reigns supreme for the safety of the nation. Guards, arrest the Prime Minister. You shall undertake no coup while I reign, sir."
As Taylor shouted and protested, he was dragged out of the throne room by the palace guards.
"Does anyone else have an objection?" the Marquis asked. No one else dared speak. "Good. Let us stand united, instead of squabbling, and defend our homeland!"
---
Later that day, on the grand balcony of the Palace de Salad, the Marquis addressed his people. "I know that the odds are seemingly against us, and our situation seems grave. But, Saladians have triumphed over the odds before. Our ancestors landed on these islands and built our nation out of nothing. We have defeated the greatest of challenges in the past. And we shall defeat this one! Together, we shall defeat the Thraxians and their plague of creatures! Take to the walls, the ramparts and the barricades, citizens! Salad Land shall prevail!"
A smattering of claps and cheers greeted his speech. "Uh....yay?" one very unreassured citizen said noticeably.
Convinced the people were behind him, the Marquis went back inside the Palace to plan the defense of Salad Land. His first task: finding a suitably martial outfit.
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