Vignette:The Trials and Tribulations of Faramond Graf von und zu Contwig
The Trials and Tribulations of Faramond Graf von und zu Contwig
- Governor's House, Abdyrna, Colony of Alvastadt
January 10th, 1855
his year felt different.
Two years ago, the manor he now occupied was but thoughts in an idle mind, and the land it was on was a densely packed neighbourhood. He remembered his first steps on this soil; it was hot and unforgiving, a far cry from the family estate in Contwig. He spoke little Thalassian; he had to rely on one Helfgott the scholar to interpret for him. While he’d been trained in the art of diplomacy, it stretched him thin to have to keep negotiating with the local ENT branch all while not knowing exactly what they were demanding back.
Somehow, he’d come out on top.
The audience with the Kaiser afterwards was uneventful. The sick man quietly praised his efforts; he’d secured a foothold in dark Kesh for the Empire, after all. He took his appointment as the new governor of the colony with a proud yet tempered smile on his face, hoping His Majesty would fail to notice the clenched fists as he quietly mouthed his disdain on the way out. He was a diplomat; if he wanted good governorship, he should’ve requested an audience with the count of St. Germain. He did not enjoy the little time he spent at home before he had to return to Kesh.
He wondered if Mother was doing well despite his prolonged absence; he made a mental note to write back to his dear Ilsa soon.
The events of last year hung above his head like Damocles’ sword. He was blessed to find a suitable Thalassian tutor as the Crown pushed even further for expansion upriver and outwards, though he soon found out he would require more resources. The sheiks and sultans that pockmarked the lands upriver were initially wary of his kind’s intrusion, and it was expected: he’d read and been told of the practically eternal feud between the ENT and them. Delesseps’ idea of a grand conference between all three major parties in the region – Goetia, the ENT, and a combined Aravan group – had only gone into motion because nobody in his circle had anything better to say. And to make it worse, someone from home had the bright idea of sending an envoy to Kodeshia.
He’d walked out of the conference a fucking hero.
He’d promised the ENT funding it sorely lacked from its Propyrian partner in exchange for greater Goetic influence in company policy. He’d also managed to establish an Advisory Council in the south, meant to curb the more violent excesses of inter-Aravan and regional “diplomacy” by rerouting it through more official channels. Of course, he also included some extra provisions that meant Goetia would play a hand in mediations. For the first time, safe passage from the Eurybian to Kodeshia by way of land had been solidified. As if to put cherries on top, the delegation to Kodeshia travelled back through the land of sultans and sheiks to their penultimate stop in Abdyrna without issue. Something itched in the back of his mind; this string of successes had to end eventually.
The door swings open; an assistant stands at the door, a dumbfounded expression plastered on his face.
“So?” His eyes slip away from the mounds of paperwork to meet him. “What’s the problem now?”
The assistant licks his lips; it's going to be bad news if he had to gauge his mannerisms. “Sir…”
He felt the need to stand at attention.
“The Kodeshians have informed us that they’ll be sending an envoy here.”
“...Us?” The gears slowly click away in his head. “As in Abdyrna?”
The assistant glances at the roll of paper stretched out in front of him. “It appears so, sir.”
He sinks into his hands; he's going to go mad.
