The convention is an outrage, an insult, and now a massacre. The whole nonsense has to be shut down at once and it's reassuring to be in a room with other people who think so and are willing to say it. They're here to set the country's laws? Fine. They'll go back in and they'll vote for martial law in the city and a ban on all publishing and for Valia Wain to be exiled to Nidal if Her Majesty's too precious to do punishments properly anymore. And a ban on ever abolishing slavery, while they're at it, just to show the abolitionists that aligning with the radicals doesn't pay. 

Jaume is new to having any political importance at all, and would not actually have expected his total failure to dissuade his flashier committee from mass expropriation schemes would inspire anyone to consider him a valuable ally. But he is willing to, at least speculatively, attend such a dinner.

He does not immediately have an answer to the question.

He, on the other hand, is entirely used to this kind of question! The Senate is good training for it, and for all its flaws the convention seems better at actually passing bills.

"Ban all the pamphlets, keep the army in the streets until people stop getting ideas, and send everyone who doesn't belong at the convention home. Whatever hold the archmage has on the queen might make the last one difficult, but at least we can start with the sortitions since even they know they don't belong here. Perhaps bring in some more sensible barons if he digs in his heels about everyone else who doesn't belong, but a too-large senate will have problems of its own."

He'd rather they be rid of Cotonnet entirely, of course, but if he were easy to be rid of the queen wouldn't have had to bribe him with a chance to play out his radical fantasies.

"All the pamphlets? I've written one myself. I suppose the enforcement overhead might be a bit much if they were to be sorted on quality."

"I hope the Archmage as discredited before the Queen, the body of the assembly, and the gods themselves as he deserves to be but I think our first demands should not be ones he has forbidden us from making. Ban pamphlets, get the army on the streets maintaining order, execute as a rioter every man who can't say under a truth spell he wasn't one. The convention itself Cotonnet can make whatever a Galtan farce. If the criminals all die we'll have weeded out the body soon enough anyway."

"In the long run we should have a board of Censors which would approve sensible productions, of course, but it rather seems foolish to wait on that to deal with the problem."

He nods approvingly at Count Bellumar. 

"I'm sure some of them will slip through the gap anyway, their sort always does, but getting rid of their easy patsies ought to limit the damage of anyone we can't put the fear of the law into."

"An end to the pamphlets, yes, order in the streets, yes - But how do you plan to march a quarter of a million burghers through a zone of truth? There must be better ways to find the guilty, and besides - we can hardly execute everyone who stood by and cheered."

"Ask them if they engaged in any violence, theft or arson," says the grey man in the background who was invited because he is, quietly, one of the richest people in Westcrown. "If we miss a few guilty by it, we'll still get enough of the criminals to send a message."

"That solves the moral concern but not the logistical one."

"Let them show up at their leisure. Arcane Mark for everyone who passes. After a week, everyone without is an outlaw."

"I see the merit in allowing people to present themselves for assessment and marking but a week would be very tight. The vouch itself would go some way toward rewarding the peaceful."

He nods at Count Bellumar. 

"If a week is too tight, we can adjust the timespan, so long as we make sure no one leaves the city without it."

"Oh, I'd say let them leave the city. It'll be easier to root them out without damaging any honest business out there than here. Watch who flees, run them down."

"A hallow to extend the Zone to last a full year costs less than a single warship," Elias observes, "and, once possessed, could be used in criminal trials thereafter until it expires."

"The church of Abadar would be pleased to host such a Hallow. It's possible the Inquisitor Shawil could cast it himself."

"I hardly see why we would need a hallow for criminal trials, but I certainly could see other uses for one. Fiducia, I imagine if guaranteeing the truth was as simple as a quick walk honest merchants would benefit?"

“With the way the archmage is dragging the country, we’ll have more than one occasion to want that Zone. Make the commoners walk through it every month, if that’s what it takes to weed out the radicals.”

"The trouble with a Zone in place of a Touch is that it is not obvious if someone has successfully resisted the effect. Few people can be confident that they will do so, though, so the willingness to walk into it and make statements is still a fair filter, particularly with the power of someone like the Inquisitor behind it."

Thoughtful frown at Puig. "Perhaps it would be best to start by marching every delegate through, or purchasing Truthtellings if there are enough to go around. I've no doubt there were rioters among the delegates, and as we've seen, even two days of opportunity can allow them to wreak havoc."

"There are not enough to go around. A handful a day per cleric even if we do nothing else. So far the economics classes have yielded one new Fiducia who immediately Scrivened the entire curriculum and moved to Higini to establish a temple there."

"Naturally. Were it feasible I'd prefer His personal touch as well, but if it were so simple to rid civilization in its entirety of criminals I have no doubt Abadar would have solved it millennia ago, and in the imperfect world we live in it's better that nine-tenths part of them be brought to justice than none. Send the delegates through the hallow as well, and have an inquisitor standing by to catch any lies - that ought to handle most of it."

Once a month? What nonsense. There would be little time for anything else. He turns to the Marquis,

"Perhaps instead of a temple of Abadar the effect should be put up across a large street, so that more people can be moved through it efficiently, and there should be soldiers stationed there with hounds at all times to immediately slay anyone who walks through it and forgets to announce that they are free of sin."

(To Acevedo:)

"I'd like to hope that having seen we'll question all of them any who manage to escape will be on their best behavior, but having seen the nonsense some of them have gotten up to I can't say I expect it."

"The temple seems more dignified. I would not care to be known to foreign visitors as the city where there's a street of slaying for all the murderous rabble."

“The important thing is that they are actually caught, and are truly dealt with when they are caught. Not these weak-kneed half-hearted half-measures that are sure to lead to a reprise.”

"I think among our demands should be the return of public executions, and for serious crimes like inciting riots I don't think anyone should be offered the Final Blade. These people are savages and when they see these modern executions they don't see mercy, they see weakness and nothing to fear."

"I am skeptical our gloriously merciful queen will permit this, Your Excellency." Elias says.

"Mercy is a virtue, in its proper place, but too much can quickly turn into vice, and leave even its beneficiaries worse off. The Queen is wise, and surely doesn't wish for further unrest in her city. ...I do expect her to object to the proposal to deny criminals the Final Blade. But public executions seem like a very reasonable step, and even if some receive the Final Blade in the end we could still administer lesser, non-fatal punishments beforehand, with severity increasing as the crime does."

"Oh, certainly, Your Excellency."

"I find that I doubt anyone was ever encouraged to crime out of the belief that hard labor, necessarily faraway and nonpublic, would be a lenient sentence, and wonder if it might be underused. It at least does concrete good to someone somewhere."

"The problem with non-fatal punishments is the other archmage, Naima, who doesn't seem to care in the slightest who she heals. Removing a hand for theft is hardly a punishment if they'll have it back by the weekend for a dollar. Sending them off to the mines or to dig a canal might help repay the debt to society of lesser cases, though. I agree on the public executions, there's nothing Asmodean about a headsman's axe and seeing it in action will certainly give some second thoughts."

It costs more than a dollar but with considerable gnashing of teeth Jaume has learned that people use numbers like that figuratively.

It is time for the first course! This one is an old Chelish recipe, Fideuà. Prawn and fish in noodles, cooked in a large flat pan. Each seating place has its own, so the guests don't have to share; the remains will be given to the servants, and any further remains to beggars. This is a house of abundance.

Felip gives a quick prayer to the major goodly Gods; Iomedae for courage, Sarenrae for compassion, Erastil for plenty, Desna for luck, Milani for hope, Shelyn for love. He looks at Isidonia during the last bit.

Waiting, over here, for this to conclude in a way that isn't an obvious snub?

"Fiducia, will you bless us as well? I merely look up to the heavens, but you must shine brightly in the eyes of Abadar for him to empower you so."

That's satisfactory. "Abadar, please guide our hands and the coins they hold to prosperous uses."

"Amen." (To all of it, in context.)

With the blessing concluded, they can dig in and conversation can resume.

"This Zone of Truth idea sounds promising. I don't recall a similar trick in Mendev, but if something like it can be done we can easily separate the sheep from the wolves and keep the people of Westcrown safe. But this city sees many visitors; surely we will not consider all of them criminals, or force all entry to the city to one lane."

"Anyone who arrives from now on obviously wasn't a participant in the rioting, and given that the port is closed any current visitors who were can hardly leave until we've had time to check them. As long as we keep the soldiers in the streets to prevent a second such night, I hardly see why foreigners would be much of an issue."

"How do we tell which residents have marched through the lane, which have newly arrived, and which have not yet proved their innocence? If we could somehow mark the whole city, and then wash clean the innocent, that would manage it."

"If we're worried about innocent foreigners being mistaken for criminals, we could give them Arcane Marks as well, distinguishable from those used to mark innocent citizens of Westcrown."

"Adding any steps to entering the city and conducting business here is costly. I do not say not worth it, but in need of more careful assessment before being declared so."

"Arcane Marks only last a few weeks on people. This is a temporary measure to restore order, not something we need to impose long-term." Gods willing, anyway.

"It also may dent smuggling, if only customs offices issue the mark, and wizards at the lane check for residency papers."

He gestures, and now his napkin bears a crimson imprint of the ducal signet of Fraga inside a triangle, for he is Felip the third.

"It leaves the problem that an arcane mark is the personal logo of a wizard or sorcerer, available to any novice. Will we have a registry of which marks are valid, and spend trusted wizards at the gates and ports who will not fall to simple bribes, when currently lettered soldiers are enough?"

He nods in agreement again. Cerdanya has proven quite the sensible fellow.

"Certainly I would be wary of making it a long term plan. But if we must do it for a month, to deal with the rioters... I think it is a price Westcrown can pay, and rather a pittance compared to half the city burning down because we sent the message that arson was acceptable. And if we have the zone of truth up anyway, we can march the wizards through it a few times to ensure they've been following the rules."

"Dear Conde, if someone participated in the riots, and then walked out of the city and re-entered, would they get the visitor's mark, and thus be presumed innocent, even though they had murdered someone?"

"Ideally we would not let them leave, but as excellent as Ser Cansellarion's troops are at their job I'm not certain even they can fully police every entrance and egress. Instead, perhaps we ought to not assume that all visitors are innocent unless they arrive by ship, and accept that some few will still escape the net."

Elias observes that Count Acevedo is fantastically ignorant of all aspects of how a city functions. Interesting.

"It seems logistically difficult to effectively bar all land travel into the city, and we'd lose any trader who didn't come by ship or teleport. If it's only for a few weeks, better to watch as many of the exits as we can. Some criminals will escape, and I'd prevent that if I could, but I'm not sure that measures that extreme would be worth the cost."

"Perhaps there's wisdom in that. Certainly even if the survivors aren't cowed, if we catch most of the looters and arsonists they can hardly form a mob by themself."

Something about this proposal rankles Alfons-Valenti, besides the obvious impracticality of trying to truthspell a quarter of a million people or completely shut down the city gates, but he can't put his thumb on what, exactly, and so he says nothing.

"I think it really might do much of the work to allow people to present themselves to receive the mark of a law-abiding citizen, and let the rewards of being visibly so accrue only to those who can be sure they have nothing to hide."

"Fifty wizards for a month is three hundred crowns," Elias notes, "and would, I suspect, suffice even allowing for delays."

"So if kept up for a year, nearly as much expense as the Hallow itself. Considerable, yet tolerable, especially if we let the Zone lapse into incidental use."

Second course is Mendevian! Beef and onion stew with asparagus and pickled beetroot; meatballs with a berry jam; thick slices of dark bread with butter. It is served in many dishes along the center of the table, everything within easy reach. 

"The pamphlets, then. I must admit I am new to Cheliax, and even newer to Westcrown. What was the situation in the city before the convention? Did it have this literary anarchy?"

??there's more food?? ???this is too much food??? ?????even the first course was kinda too much food????? - that is an extremely déclassé thought and he will butter a slice of bread in a thoughtful way that gives him precious moments to digest before he bites into it.

"I am as new to Westcrown as you, but I can't imagine this going on for very long without the city falling to pieces. It seems of a kind with the rest of the archmage's ideas - when I first asked about the pamphlets, I was told they were common in Galt."

He is eating a hearty portion of each course and shows no signs of slowing yet.

"Perhaps we could, as a convention, ask the president to limit his protection to convention business done in the convention hall, and send a letter to that effect to the Queen and Lord Mayor, both of whom must view the pamphlets with considerably more suspicion than he does." Even if they do have the right to set the law for Westcrown, it is only because they have the Archmage's backing, which seems improper. Better to respect the legitimate power other men have, especially when you can guess they will do the right thing.

"I think there was something very admirable in the 'freedom of the pen' experiment, but having seen the result I cannot say that I have any love for the result. Perhaps in fifty years when the people are less corrupted by the influence of Hell. I suspect we will have an easier time persuading the Archmage if we make clear to him that we have no objection, in principle, to such rights being extended to the people when the people are ready for them."

"There were regular journals and irregular pamphlets before the convention," Montcada notes, "but far less deranged."

"Our problem is not with all the people of Cheliax. I'm sure all of us have met commoners perfectly suited to their station, Lawful farmers and innkeepers who would no more riot in the streets than they would throw out good food," he waves a meatball on a fork. "Our problem is with the radicals putting poisonous anarchic thoughts in their heads, and now with the people of Westcrown who have drunk deep of that poison."

"And this convention which encourages their excitement," Isidonia remarks.

She gestures towards her husband's napkin. "I understand this copyist's spell to be as simple as the Arcane Mark. Perhaps we should require that no pamphlet be published without a mark as signature, which will let us quickly identify those responsible for pouring poison into the communal well."

"Would you prevent one without magical talents from writing a pamphlet out as many times as they have patience for?" 

"They are of the same circle, but clerics can also Scriven and cannot produce Arcane Marks."

"Let them find a laundry wizard to take responsibility for their writings; the city has plenty, and it is far less work to mark another's pamphlets than create your own. If they cannot find one, that is evidence enough their writings should be suppressed."

"This is a half-measure in a time where even the strongest of measures may not be enough. We want a full ban on all written work not approved by the royal censorship board."

"What royal censorship board? No, I think that goes too far. What if a priest of Abadar wishes to complain about the royal tax policy? What if you or I should wish to publish a memoir? Must we ask the crown for permission?  I should think we can find a way to stop anarchists and fools from spreading their ideas without impinging on the rights of honest men."

"I think de Almenar has the right of it," Felip says, "that the problem is in this city, not the whole of Cheliax. Let us not write laws which would interfere with us issuing decrees or the regular operations of Chelish life, or even burden our Queen, and instead give the Lord Mayor whatever abilities he needs to restore this city's peace, and defend him against those who might stand in his way."

The Lord Mayor's an appointment of the Inquisitor and presumably suited to it; Jaume nods at that.

Westcrown will be the whole of Cheliax in a year in any way that matters.

He'll nod along, if that's the prevalent mood.

"Perhaps we should host a banquet tomorrow night for the victims of the riots, where you can advise the Lord Mayor on what the city needs, if he is able to attend." Directed at Bellumar; Felip is happy to work with those he disagrees with.

Jonatan supports requiring new publications to go before an authorization board, but the Lord Mayor is a sensible man, and a victim of the riots himself. If this is what it takes to get a majority of the convention to vote for it, that's fine.

The third course is in the Taldan style, local cheese and seasonal fruit, where 'local' has been interpreted as 'the whole of Longmarch'. Every plate has a healthy slice of the twelve varieties and the six fruits, and attendants stand ready to offer more if a guest smiles on trying any of them.

"I must say it grieves me to learn that the sortition delegates were brought here against their will, and it seems their behavior is no better than expected of unfiltered commoners. I must also say that, present company excluded, I have not been particularly impressed with the religious or elected delegates either. The other clerics lack the earned wisdom of long practice, and the theological training of established seminaries. While some of the elected delegates are talented merchants, heroic barons, and true representatives of their community, the bulk of them are simply here to profit themselves at the country's expense, and a shocking number of them seem to have been sent by their communities as a blood sacrifice to the Queen. How should we maintain the benign influence of those delegates set on making a greater Cheliax while clearing the hall of those without helpful influence, or who would use what influence they have for ill?"

"I am not sure that there exists any proposal along these lines, obviously necessary as it is, that the Archmage will not refuse to entertain; but I am inclined to force him to refuse, personally. Let the convention overwhelmingly vote that no subject of the Queen shall be kidnapped and obliged to participate in political activity they don't understand and will ultimately hang for, and let Cotonnet say openly that this is no Republican institution but a game of his whims and that he will ignore us."

Elias nods along with Bellumar's proposal, quietly, along with many others at the table.

Cheese and fruit are at least very suited to being nibbled on in tiny bites as though one is sophisticatedly evaluating their quality and full of pasta.

"I am not sure we should allow those who wish to participate in what they do not understand," Isidonia says mildly. "Perhaps we could go even further."

"Even if he will not allow such a basic measure, we ought at least require all floor speeches to be submitted in advance in writing, and inspected to ensure they contain nothing unlawful. It won't prevent them from sending the country into ruin but it'll at least stop them from inspiring people to anarchy."

"Yes, that's a very good idea. Also any delegate from a Church should be permitted to speak only with the authorization of the Church hierarchy, which is accountable for what they say. If the Church has no hierarchy capable of making such decisions with maturity and wisdom it has no place in the convention."

"I think we will have some difficulty passing these, Your Excellencies," Elias says. "The Church of Erastil is very popular and has yet to establish any formal hierarchy. While we of course must all desire it to do so as quickly as possible, I do not know if the delegates and their supporters will permit expelling it, nor those of its members who happen to be illiterate from speaking. Perhaps it might be simpler to clear the observer's gallery to drive off the pressmen reporting on the speeches, or to... establish an... assistant to the President for the purpose of maintenance of order, to select members to speak based on their ability to contribute to the discussion?"

Felip, who reacts little to most suggestions, nods at the idea of assisting the President.

The problem with this is that any assistant the President is willing to countenance would almost certainly have failed to prevent Wain from speaking, and most certainly would have failed to prevent Conde Cansellarion from speaking up against taxing all major lords. There's no polite way to say that.

Who said the President has to countenance anyone?

“Indeed, I do not think the proposal as it stands would go particularly well. What if another delegate makes a foolish but legal proposal like the complete tax exemption, but this time none of our archdukes are able to make clear the idiocy because they have not had a speech cleared? Or something that seems even more innocuous to them, but would be far more ruinous to Cheliax, like increasing their stipend? Declaring that none can speak without a prepared speech is to cede the floor to any delegate that plans to say something unexpected.”

"Pardon my foolishness, but I believe I must have misunderstood you — I presume you mean to say that increasing the stipend would be more ruinous than merely exempting some commoners from taxation, not that it would be more ruinous than the proposal to exempt nearly every noble of significance?"

The limited proposal would have been ruinous too, eventually, of course; he's trying to give Acevedo a face-saving way to avoid implying that the original taxation proposal could mean anything but the near-complete destruction of the Chelish state.

“Both, though certainly the former was less dangerous in the short term. The stipend costs the crown a warship every two months. If it were to be increased fivefold, the country would go bankrupt before the convention finishes and the rabble would have no further reason to listen to sense. Tax exemptions for the greater nobility, on the other hand, is the same as saying that taxes require the consent of the peerage. It’s certainly going further to imitate Taldor than I would prefer, but had it passed I expect we could have gotten every man of standing to agree to establish a customary voluntary donation as a show of loyalty and the nation would survive.”

Isidonia joins in. "Besides, the realm cannot long survive if its nobility is held hostage here in Westcrown, rather than attending to their responsibilities. I would not put it past the lower delegates to delay the end of the convention to continue receiving stipends, even if order collapses totally and monsters run amok."

She attempts to return the conversation from a disagreement to constructive points. 

"Speeches need not be read in the order they are entered. Perhaps the archdukes could be given right of reply to all speeches, either extemporaneously or calling a halt to the proceedings until they are prepared."

Jonatan is not at all confident in Conde Acevedo's calculations, but he's not inclined to press the point given that everyone here is united in agreement that either proposal would be deeply imprudent.

Does anyone see archdukes in this room? "I gravely fear, Your Grace, that this would slow the proceedings down to the scale the convention might take years to complete. A law forbidding the publication of reports of the proceedings of the convention might suffice, once proper order has been restored to the streets?" And all the pamphleteers have been hung?

Also an excellent point, it's all too easy to have a senate that simply does nothing and that's hardly what you need when you're trying to recivilize a country.

"Haste is of the essence," Felip agrees. "But perhaps we should take years to complete our task; a law written in a week is unlikely to be wise enough to last a century. Of course, I do not mean prolonging the convention and holding all of the delegates here, but instead writing the simplest constitution we have, which merely identifies who will flesh it out and guides their hands, perhaps setting the date for the next convention, and adjourning."

That will have serious negative effects on the economy, but comparatively good for Westcrown prices in the near term which is bad in the long-term... it is worth it if they get a good deal out of it but he thinks it's still worth making the comment -

"I quite agree with the spirit that motives this, Your Grace," the spirit of calling another convention with only lords and Lawful clerics of Lawful gods, "but so long as no farmer knows what crops he can plant or who will harvest them and no merchant knows what goods he may sell or to whom he may sell them, trade will not recover." That is, the people fleeing Westcrown from angry mobs will keep running.

Vidal's on his third round of his favorite cheese, constructing a little sandwich with fruit and two crackers. He's not as clever as most of the others here, but having them agree with what he says is very encouraging, so he forges ahead.

"What are the fewest necessary rules to allow trade to recover? What questions must we answer now, at this convention, with its limitations, that will give us time to do the full thing in the right way?"

"Your Lordship, I am afraid it is difficult." He shrugs. "An answer must be known to - which goods are to be illegal. What goods will be taxed, and how much. What the external and internal tariffs are to be. The status of internal passports. The status of slavery. The status of serfdom. Who will maintain the roads, and how. And the system of law, civil or criminal, to be used in settling business disputes."

"Trade is not either alive or dead. Trade is various degrees of ill or well. With a few exceptions of laws and their enforcement to safeguard people's control over their property, almost any rule you can think of will harm it, and right now it is not robust to such harm - but many possible rules do concern people's control over their property, and merely must be implemented in the gentlest effective way."

"And what is gentlest will vary barony by barony, I fear. What sounds like one question in the convention hall is secretly a thousand questions, which require a thousand different answers. I shudder to think of six hundred delegates poring over a map of Cheliax, identifying every road and deciding who will pay for each, or deciding the proper toll for every barony, weighing the difficulty of maintenance and monster hunting. We would not dictate the moves of every merchant here in Westcrown, and neither can we make such dictates for the barons, knowing little of their particular situations. Let the counts keep a watchful eye on their barons, themselves watched by their dukes, their bonds deep with mutual knowledge and earned trust. Are there questions that simply must be decided for all of Cheliax at once, and can we focus the convention on only them?"

"Once we've dealt with the mob? We'll need to handle fixing the army and legal system first, though if we can prevail upon lord Cansellarion the former might be possible to do quickly, and it might be survivable to not fix the tax system if there's no hope of a measured plan from this group but I'd prefer to not leave it unsolved. That and ensuring the next convention has a more sensible makeup cannot wait overlong."

"I admit to despairing at the prospect of attempting to pass reasonable tax reforms under the circumstances, particularly if the Archmage refuses to permit the commoners to leave."

Well, if they want to bankrupt themselves, that's their business. "As you say, my lords."

He's not saying don't do it, he's just saying that you need a plan robust to some commoner proposing that actually they should get a permanent exemption from taxation and also a pony, and it needs to rely on neither everyone being bribed actually voting how they're supposed to nor the Church of Iomedae being sensible.

"When our creativity fails us, tradition may save us. The Thrunes did what they could to destroy the history of this fair country, but many convention delegates were brought to the present from the time of Gaspodar. Perhaps before the convention resumes, we could have recorded the traditions and principles of law such as existed at that time, and present them to the convention as a starting point. 'There are six noble ranks, as follows:' instead of the Thrune's nine, and so on. If we're in great luck, they already wrote such a constitution for us, and we just have to find a book that survived."

"This does not settle Montcada's point; this may tell us who can ban growing sugar, but not whether or not they will ban it. I doubt we wish to simply return the code to the position it was a hundred years ago."

"Either an issue is critical for all of Cheliax, and the convention can contest the old constitution, or it is not, and it should be properly settled by that ruler, instead of this convention. We should perhaps set a deadline for them to issue new codes, but not reach further."

Elias nods. "Just as you say, Your Grace. The swifter the new assembly could gather, the better it would be for everyone."

Cakes come out for dessert, and then shortly thereafter Felip proposes they move to another room for drinks and entertainment. During the transition, Isidonia takes Jaume to the side for a whispered conversation.

"Fiducia, our hosting is likely not in the old Chelish style," she says, meaning 'you look lost.'

"You are welcome to stay as long as we are still serving drinks, and also welcome to leave whenever you find the conversation no longer suits your fancy."

"Thank you very much, your ladyship." He will stay until he can walk home instead of rolling, at least.

They discuss the details into the night.