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He declined his first invitation to Charthagnion Manor on the excuse that he had urgent business to attend to at his estate, which was true, but no more true than it is for any of them at all times. In truth—well, everyone staying in that house is either a former diabolist or a Menadorian, if not both, and he’s not actually sure which is worse. He’s been to Menador, in his former life; Menador, where Iomedae is worshiped as a goddess of war first and Goodness second, and dinner parties are invariably concluded with contests of brute strength that he, a wizard, could only be embarrassed by. He hadn’t planned to go back.

Worse still, a pamphlet has come out with a reasonably accurate account of his genealogy, including his other family name. It shouldn’t matter. It really shouldn’t matter. He doesn’t have one drop of devil’s blood in his veins, and the pamphlet doesn’t even claim that he does. But the name itself has become a curse—no wonder!—and in the current climate of the city of Westcrown, the truth may not be enough to save him. Hopefully the pamphlet will be dismissed as nonsense, which most of them are—but he definitely can’t be seen visiting a house full of barely-repentant diabolists now.

He also can’t decline two invitations in a row without seriously alienating a fellow Archduke that he’ll have to work with long after the convention is over. He has his bodyguard Teleport him directly into the foyer so that he can’t be seen arriving.

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(He then Teleports out. He has lots and lots of other business to attend to, and the Archduke shouldn’t need a bodyguard in a private house full of well-leveled nobles.)

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Oh, it's the new Heartlands archduke! With no particular warning, teleporting right into the house! She recognizes him from standing outside the convention hall and asking her father who everyone was, as they left. She hopes no one has gotten it into their heads to sit down early; there is no archery, tonight, and they will all have to move.

"Archduke Blanxart! How wonderful that you could join us tonight!" 

...is she important enough to be greeting an archduke? Probably not. But it seems even ruder to ignore him.

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"Good evening, Senyora—" He doesn't actually know her name or whether she has a title.

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"Oh, no one of consequence, certainly. Valentia Napaciza. My father is regent of the County of Ilnea, where Taggun Hold is." They have had to rename the whole county after the fountain after the Iomedan saint; it's one of those where the previous name was changed to reference Hell, and good riddance to that, but now she's not sure she can expect anyone to know where she lives. "I have just heard it's time to gather for dinner, shall I show you the way?"

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The tiefling, he thinks. Well, there's no need to be rude about it while he's their guest.

"Honored to meet you. And certainly." He follows her.

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The table is set, but the men are not seated; no one is forced to move. Archduke Narikopolus lets no surprise show on his face, though in reality he feels a bit of it. "Archduke Blanxart, we are honored to have you with us. Please, sit."

He directs him to one of the two seats nearest him, across from Cansellarion and where Aniol would otherwise have sat. Aniol is, really, the most convenient possible person to need to displace.

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Aniol duels when he has to lest his ability to run Juncosa be undermined, but the man as an individual is widely reputed to barely have a temper and what he has is deliberately cultivated and easily set aside; he takes no offense and smiles at his resultant seatmates as though delighted to get a chance to catch up with them more.

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"Archduke! I'm glad you could join us today. I feared you might stay away, after today's events."

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He's read the pamphlet, then. Of course, Cansellarion knew from the beginning, and there's no point denying it in front of this audience.

"My family name ought to be of no consequence to anyone," he says. "I have never worshipped or served Hell in any regard, and while there are plenty of fools in Cheliax who will be unable to distinguish me from my infamous cousins solely on account of a name, I don't expect that any of them are in this room."

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(He hadn't seen the pamphlet, actually. He was referring to Valia Wain's denunciation of half the nobles in this house.)

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Antonio had seen the pamphlet - or glanced at it when his grandson brought it to his attention, at least,  but he hadn't taken it seriously until this moment.

"I am sure none of us in this room would hold your name against you. I might, in your place, have worried about others hearing about your presence here. I thank you for your faith in our discretion, and assure you that no word of your visit will leave this place."

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"See, that was why I had someone Teleport me directly into the foyer."

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This is better than he was expecting the evening to go after what he's heard about the day's events of the convention. At least Lord Cansellarion and the Archduke d'Egorian and the Archduke Narikopolus are all talking cheerfully to each other like they weren't all denounced (the archdukes for Evil, Alex to whom that accusation couldn't stick for madness), two of them by another priest of Iomedae, this very morning.

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Maybe politics is just like that and they're all used to it. Arn has never been more glad that Iomedae made her country a nice theocracy with a chain of command.

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"I imagine scads of people are related to the Thrunes by a line of descent that doesn't happen to come with the name and nobody's dug up a genealogy to denounce those. Though perhaps I invite what I speak of." He performs a superstitious gesture, but ironically.

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"Blood is nothing. Let all men be judged by their deeds."

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"I believe we are all experiencing judgement for both, right now."

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He grins at Valentina. "That's the spirit. Very republican."

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You can actually have 'promoting people based on merit not blood' without republicanism! It has all of the benefits and approximately none of the drawbacks! He's not going to get into that right now, though.

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(Oh, he knows. He won everything he has in a thoroughly non-republican country. But republicanism is the order of the day, now, and so one should speak fondly of it when discussing things tangentially linked to it.)

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"At any rate, I would sooner apologize for my name than for the actions for which I was denounced in the convention hall today." Glance at Narikopolus and Napaciza, the other two people Wain denounced. Granted, if he had his way neither of them would be in power either, but he's honestly more afraid of Wain than he is of them. "I'm curious of Ser Cansellarion's opinion of Select Wain's speech." He restrains himself from being angry at Cansellarion about it; he's angry at someone, but it shouldn't have been Cansellarion's job.

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"Select Wain has never served at the Worldwound, never fought against any foe but Asmodeus. I think it is an easy mistake for young Iomedans to make, to be unwilling to accept compromise with Evil, to be eager to fight a war against evildoers even if that war would be far more destructive than peace and negotiation." Old Iomedans, too.

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"Is she part of the Church?" he asks Cansellarion. Everyone is obviously going to assume so, which makes her their problem regardless, but being chosen by the Goddess is not actually the same thing and is relevant to whether there is anyone who can order her to cut it out.

 

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"No. Not, as I understand it, for lack of willingness to join, just - a lack of time for training. I intend to get in a word with her tomorrow before the main session, if I can, and I know another paladin spoke with her immediately following her speech. No orders, of course, just advice."

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He waits a moment for one of the Lastwallers to say the obvious thing, and then, when neither of them do—

"Are the Iomedaen delegates to the convention not representatives of the Church?"

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