The driver of the carriage hopped down,
hurrying around to the side of the conveyance and lowering the steps
towards the building's main entrance. He opened the door, stepping
aside to allow Britany LaFevre to descend from the transport, her
white and silver gown trailing down the steps behind her. She paused,
looking up at the sign and giving a soft sigh before looking over to
her driver.
“James, I fear that this will take
several hours,” She said almost apologetically. “Why don't you go
and make some purchases for yourself while I'm occupied. Return at
two bells to collect me if you would. Oh, and here is a small stipend
for your personal uses.”
Britany handed James a small coin-purse
as he bowed and replied, “Thank you m'Lady. I will return at the
appointed time. And...good luck.”
The noblewoman gave him a fleeting
smile before proceeding into the building, the guards posted within
the foyer opening the inner doors to allow her to proceed to her
destination. She had been unilaterally summoned by the rest of the
trade conglomerate that operated from within the building; an action
that would have been unthinkable in years past and one that had set
her ire stirring almost immediately. With swift strides that caused
her heels to echo loudly within the stone confines of the building,
she made her way to the conference room, pushing the door open and
unceremoniously entering.
Within, five men and a woman awaited
her around a long, polished hardwood table. Luxurious high-backed
chairs sat each of the attendees comfortably around the furniture,
with the chair at the table's head remaining empty and awaiting her
presence. Britany paused, her eyes roaming over the well dressed
collection of minor nobles.
At least they didn't have the
audacity to sit in my chair. I honestly think I'd have to slay
someone if they presumed that much.
With that thought
in mind, Britany walked slowly towards her seat, sinking down into
the soft cushions, the banner of House LaFevre hanging on the wall
centered behind her head, it's deep blue field with dual fleur-de-lis
glittering with gold behind her falsely benevolent smile. She opened
her mouth to speak, only to have the words die in her throat as one
of the men near her half-rose and tossed a folder her way.
The folder struck
the table's surface, opening and spilling papers which slid across
the highly polished wood, coming to rest just within her reach. Her
eyes scanned over them quickly without any movement to collect the
papers as the man raged at her, “You tried to run a blockade! You
lost an entire VESSEL to orc warships and didn't think you needed to
TELL us about this?”
Angry mutterings
arose amongst the other present, each of the conglomerate's nobles
chiming in on the sentiment and looking to Britany for an
explanation. For her part, she remained calm, her facial muscles
displaying not even a hint of irritation as those present murmured
and finally settled. When they were done, she spoke, looking each of
them in the eye and not bothering to reach for the documents. She
knew what they said after all.
“Yes, I sent two
vessels to Teldrassil in an attempt to run the blockade while it was
in effect,” she spoke with a strong voice. “One of the vessels
was hulled by goblin cannon fire and sank beneath the waves. The
other did manage to escape with minor damage, returning here.”
“Minor damage!
The ship will need weeks in drydock to make it sea-worthy again!”
another of the men shouted. “Do you have any idea how much this
co-”
Britany interrupted
him, affixing a less friendly stare at him, “Three hundred
twenty-seven lives. One hundred fifteen pieces of artillery. Five
battle-magi sworn to our Houses. Seven fullsails, three halfsails,
eight hundred feet of rope. Five thousand, two hundred crowns worth
of lumber. Seven thousand crowns worth of labor and repair costs.
Three weeks of drydock fees and associated taxes. Is that an adequate
summary?”
The man sputtered
on for a moment and then fell silent, nodding. Britany looked away
from him, her eyes wandering over each member of the conglomerate,
“Yes there were heavy losses, however the second vessel did return
with merchandise that has, due to the intervention of the orcs, been
temporarily made unavailable. As a result, the cargo that we did
bring back was eight hundred percent more profitable than it
otherwise would have been, not to mention the fees we charged several
passengers who for whatever reason were unable to use the portals of
magi to return to Stormwind. As you can see, the voyage more than
paid for itself.”
The woman sitting
at the table glared at Britany before speaking sternly, “The cost
in lives is far greater! How can you justify-”
She too was cut off
as the Lady LaFevre sent a glare her way, “The sailors knew the
risks and their families will be compensated.”
The statement was
met with shouts and a chorus of disagreement, the volume rising in
the room. All noise ended abruptly when Britany brought her hand down
on the surface of the table hard enough to create an echoing boom.
All eyes turned to her, several of the trade nobles wondering how the
Lady LaFevre had not just broken her hand, so forceful was the blow.
Britany's voice was
cold now, and her gaze held a hint of malice in it as she spoke, “In
past times, my brother ran this conglomerate ruthlessly, as you may
well remember. With his unfortunate and sudden passing, I elected to
take a different path, allowing each of you the freedom to expand our
interests and profit greatly from the trade we encouraged. Let us
never forget though that the property and lives we are discussing
belong to House LaFevre, and there is a limit to the patience I will
display.”
She paused for a
moment, her tone softening as she looked at each member of the group,
considering their strengths. Minor nobles or even non-noble rich
tradesmen, the group had been built slowly by House LaFevre since the
rebirth of Stormwind after the second war. The Sea Lanes Trade and
Import Corporation was a facade for an underlying network of
ship-builders, sailors, soldiers, and all of the necessities to
encourage sea trade and the power and wealth that it brought. The
question now was how the conglomerate would face the challenges of
the future.
“Times have
changed. No longer can we look upon the conflicts between the Horde
and Alliance with indifference,” Britany continued. “Where before
a Horde warship might fire upon our vessels here and there, now they
will actively hunt them. Where before an invasion might disrupt trade
to a specific port, we now have to consider that total annihilation
of a port may occur, removing the trade indefinitely. We have three
options as I see it.”
Britany arose,
pacing behind her chair and setting the banner of her House
fluttering with her passing. “We can profit by current events as I
have just done through bold trade with beleaguered Alliance ports. We
can engage in war profiteering, and trade in commodities that the
Alliance military will need in the days and months to come. Or...”
Britany paused, the
smile on her face a cruel one now, “We can obtain a writ and become
privateers.”
The group murmured
softly, considering what Britany had said carefully. The world had
changed, and they were savvy enough to understand that they had to
change with it. The meeting that had started as an attempt to wrest
more power from Britany for her actions quickly turned to a
brainstorming meeting as they discussed the possibilities. One
question arose above all of the others though, spoken by one of the
more silent members of the conglomerate.
“What of House
Baxon and the recent troubles with the contracts, Lady LaFevre?”
Britany smiled and
shrugged, “I have taken what steps I may to rectify that. I put in
a petition with the Claimant of Lordaeron, with the hopes that Lord
Baxon's ties to that former Kingdom will require him to concede some
ground on this front. Although Her Grace could not definitively
resolve the issue in our favor, I am confident that this will, at
least, give Lord Baxon pause before he presses us further.
Although the act
was surprising, those present began to nod at the wisdom of this
course. Whether House Baxon and it's associated minor-houses would
concede was still in question, but at the very least their workers
would hopefully cease with their attempts at sabotage at the piers
and angry protests in joint council meetings. Britany raised a hand,
silencing the others as she returned to her seat, a smile on her
lips.
“It occurs to me,
my esteemed friends, that if we cannot obtain a writ to savage Horde
ships with our own galleons from His Majesty, there is always the
possibility that Her Grace would see fit to provide us with the
proper writ. I imagine that she would shed not a tear if we took
Forsaken vessels off of the coasts of Lordaeron,” the noblewoman
said happily.
The others nodded
and Britany slowly gathered the now pointless papers up in front of
her, neatening and organizing the stack as she spoke, “I will
consider whether or not to present another petition to her on this
matter. In the meanwhile, let us begin planning for the best. We will
need to increase the armaments on our trading vessels, and make plans
to import more dangerous weapons to deal with Horde warships. I have
some...ideas about this.”
With a smile,
Britany leaned back in her chair as those around the table began to
chatter excitedly about the possibilities. The meeting had gone from
irritating to triumphant in a matter of minutes, but such was the
nature of the game, if one knew how to play it properly.
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