(1310-06-25) Castling
Summary: Giovanni hires more help for his campaign.
RL Date: 06-24-1310
Related: Milazza Plot
aoife giovanni_npc 

Outside Marsilikos

Aoife might receive a missive bearing a foreign official's stamp and seal to join him in the outskirts of Marsilikos, in the pub of a village maybe four or five hours away, on horseback.

When she arrives, a Milazzan male sits across from a small gathering of other noblemen, discussing various subjects, apparently. But he waits for somebody, comfortably sprawled in his seat, and looking bored.

Weird messages from unknown nobles is a rather unusual thing, but boredom is the bane of her very existance, so after letting her brother know where she was going and what she was doing she sets off.

Unlike many of the noble women of the land she is not wearing fine dresses, and even the clothes she does wear isn't the pristine hunting outfit of someone that doesn't get dirty. It's well made, well cared for, but very obviously worn and used in the way it's supposed to be used, everything about her speaks of a comfortability and familiarity with her weapon, her horse, and even the falcon that rides in the saddle with her from Marsilikos. Instead of announcing herself, or asking who she's reporting to, she simply gives the pub a once over, then moves to find her very own table.

Maybe because she is Eiran, and known to be in Terre d'Ange, is why he chose to contact her. The brother of the current reigning Duke of Milazza rises from his seat and flashes Aoife a quick smile, bowing his head to her. He is blond, gray-eyed and sports a meticulously kept goatee. Unlike d'Angelines, this is a foreigner with actual body hair, after all. "Glad you could make it," he states, in accented Eiran. "I'd like to enlist you for some mercenary work, if you're interested."

There's an upwards twitch of a pale brow as she studies the man, her head tilting to one side, then the other. There is a certain way curious, and hungry, birds often look at people, and her expression would be right at home on one of those predatory birds. After a little while her eyes return to his face, "Mercenary work? I might be interested, but you realize I'm not a mercenary…right?"

"I think you are an adventurer," the Milazzan states with a bright smile to the Eiran, meeting her gaze without reservation. If she's wild and unfettered, he's sharp and incisive. Like a predator, just a different kind. "It is about vendetta, in the end. A brother betraying another. The betrayed party, in this case, being yours truly, here. I can promise adventure, thrill and excitement. And a hell of a lot of fighting."

"I'm listening." Aoife replies, eyes narrowing just a fraction at him before she tilts her chin towards the chair at her table, a silent invitation for him to join her.

"Very well, I intend on taking the throne of Milazza for myself." The noble states, resolutely. "To do that, I am gathering adventurers, fighters, mercenaries, and making an army. I will soon need a group to attack one of the Duke's main supporters, the city of Genoa. A smaller, but nevertheless elite group will infiltrate the city and kill the city guards watching the gates so my army can go in. My payment for this is two thousand ducats. A quarter I will pay in advance for travel expanses, the rest I will pay after the first service. And then I expect to pay more to seize the city of Milazza itself."

If there is any feeling one way or another about the offered price it doesn't show on her face, instead she continues to watch him with that curious look. After a moment she leans forward, resting her forearms on the table, "Saying I agree, and say we manage to take down your city of Genoa, what then? Are things within the city up for taking, or are we to content ourselves with taking the ducates and nothing more? Are we sparing the women and children? Are you in command of your army or is another man the true commander of it? Will you fight alongside?"

"I am in command of my army, and I will be fighting in the front. After we take Genoa, we march on Milan." The Duke states, threading his fingers together while studying her. "Women and children are off limits, but feel free to take anything that isn't bolted down, in the houses of the nobility supporting my brother. I will write a list and will ensure there are guides if raiding parties ought to be started. Those, you can put down with abandon, even the women. I do not suffer betrayers, and they are the spoils of war." Maybe ruthless, this man, but then again…

"And what repercussions can be expected here?" Aoife wonders, that brow flicking upwards once more. It's clear that she's asking what sort of response to his actions, and those involved, are expected from the locals.

"If I lose, you can expect the Duke of Milazza to be unhappy with interference, but your anonymity will be kept as intact as possible. I do not intend to lose, so the only repercussion you need to worry about is getting paid." The pretender to the throne states, leaning forward. "Those nobles that bend the knee and surrender as the army marches in will be spared and their crimes forgiven. Those that do not bend the knee will answer before me."

"Four thousand, five hundred ducats." Aoife replies, her head tilting to the side, a slow smile spreading across her face as she studies him, "You get me, my brother, and an extra special treat in well trained wolfhounds. Kill on command." She then shrugs her shoulders before leaning back in her chair, "That's if you want us, otherwise it was a pleasure to talk with you."

"Two thousand each and five hundred for the dog? Good deal," the Milazzan states with a faint smile, reaching across with his hand. "A pleasure to do business. My seneschal," the man behind him approaches, dumping a bag of coins on the table, "will get the remainder of the money set aside for you. You'll receive it at Genoa, as soon as we make encampment. Thank you, my Lady."

Aoife reaches out a hand to shake his before she picks up the bag of coins, tucking it away, "We'll be seeing you, then." She replies, offering the man a smile that is all teeth before she gets to her feet, making her way towards the door.

"Yes," the Milazzan states with a faint smile, watching as she departs. He rises to his feet, and then heads upstairs.

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