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The Imperial-Goldhand Contract


Nectorist

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THE IMPERIAL-GOLDHAND CONTRACT

13th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1863

 


 

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PREAMBLE,

 

With the waning fortunes of the Urgani marches and the machinations of politics, it is on occasion prudent to act with the pen rather than the sword. The Goldhands have seen fit to accept the generosity of his Imperial Majesty. To that end the following terms are brought into binding effect.


 

I) Clan Goldhand will remain neutral in the ongoing war between the Grand Kingdom of Urguan and the Holy Orenian Empire.

a) The Holy Orenian Empire shall allow for Clan Goldhand to, in return, construct and operate a tavern within imperial borders. 

b) The Clan Goldhand and employees will receive Imperial passports, guaranteeing their safety to conduct legal trade and business within the Empire and reside within Imperial borders.

 

II) Clan Goldhand will maintain a stockpile of military equipment, siege engines, foodstuffs, pack animals, rations, and animal fodder for sale at any time to the authorities of the Holy Orenian Empire. 

 

III) This agreement will persist in perpetuity and shall be considered legally binding on the successors of both parties. Upon the ascension of the next Emperor the Goldhand Dwarves will be offered the opportunity to reaffirm this agreement.

 

IV) As long as this agreement is in effect the Emperor of Oren shall be obliged to defend the Goldhands and their dependents from aggressors.

 


 

AD DEI GLORIAM,

 

HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Philip III, Holy Orenian Emperor, forever August, King of Renatus, Curon, Kaedrin, Salvus, and Seventis, Grand Duke of Ves, Duke of Helena, Novellen, Furnestock, Adria, and Lorraine, Baron of Renzfeld, Protector of the Heartlanders, Orenian Highlanders, and Farfolk, etcetera

 

HER IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Anastasia I, Holy Orenian Empress, forever August, Queen of Renatus, Curon, Kaedrin, Salvus, and Seventis, Grand Duchess of Ves, Duchess of Helena, Novellen, Furnestock, Adria, and Lorraine, Baroness of Renzfeld, Protector of the Heartlanders, Orenian Highlanders, and Farfolk, etcetera 

 

His Imperial Excellency, the Archchancellor, Joseph Ledicort d’Azor, Duke of Azor

 

Lord Rylanor Goldhand, Clan Father of Clan Goldhand, Wayfather of the Waystone Corporation, 

Aegis of Grimdugan

 

Elder, Torsun Goldhand, Elder of Clan Goldhand

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Gildroc Goldhand rolls in his grave.

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Grand King Ulfric would angrily rip the missive laid out in front of him. 

 

"T'ey 'ave disgraced Dorimnur, an' t'ey 'ave disgraced t'emselves. May Rylanor's bloodloine foreveh beh tainted wit' 'is sins."

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Just now, UnusualBrit said:

Gildroc Goldhand rolls in his grave.

Durin Hammerforge rolls

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Joseph d'Azor smiles at the missive. "I wonder what goods Clan Goldhand can bring Oren? Im sure we will all see...." 

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Empress Anastasia offered a cheers to her fellow monarch and husband, Emperor Philip III, the Archchancellor, and the Baron and Baroness of Arichsdorf as the document circulated publicly. “Ave Orenia,” she chanted.

 

@Fie@Narthok@Nectorist@Taketheshot

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"TRRRRRRRRRRAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" Roared Marius Irongut as he drew his sword "TORSUN WHERE DAH FOOK ARE YOU, YER DEAD!"

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the young Marléaïs cried to her mother as she saw a march of dwarven-kind enter the city!

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Manfred would put on his wool socks and night cap and tuck himself into his bed after a long day of festival affairs, another day of diplomacy in service of the Empire.

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Morul Irongrinder scowled as he looked upon the missive, going to place it aside in a small booklet. "Oi realleh recommend banishment er worse, nae even oi would doh tis, an' oive been called Tagum ah gud few toimes... unfoundedleh but still" he'd mumble, then adding "May their souls burn en Vuur'dor... nae, tehy deserve worse. simple as."

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Torsun contemplates holding up in his vault or skipping town for a lifetime.

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Mika Anarion Coughed as he spots the missive before letting out a chuckle "Times like these ye'd wonder where the Anvilaxes went" as he added another mark on the chalkboard for anvilaxes

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The ever ticking dwed let out a hum as he reread the deal struck, nodding gently as he spoke with those with him currently. 

"When my Father grew tired of the trifles of politics that surrounded him, he left, and thus Waystone was born. And now such a mood crosses me, and we shall do the same, to preserve what we have."

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Lord Atandt would be puffing on one of his cigars, "Wait wot deh fock 'as dis lad done..... ah will shave 'is beard mehself."

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