This is How You Negotiate

"This is How You Negotiate" is an Extended Universe thread written on May 7, 2020.
==Summary==
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==Full Text==
=== Part 1 ===
The silver crafted utensils clinked softly on the noblewoman’s plate as she ate her dinner, her husband working ever so slightly harder than normal to keep his glass steady as he took a sip of his wine. From down the hall, her event manger stepped inside with a puff of his cheeks. “Well lady Elanna, the Wilderwest rebellion will be arriving with their representatives tomorrow to negotiate with us. And naturally, I have everything prepared.”
“Ah yes, thank you.” The noblewoman responded curtly. “Although I could use a reminder as to why we need to negotiate with them in the first place. We hardly interact with them, hardly effect their lives in anyway. Why this stubbornly insisted on appointment?”
The manager cleared his throat uncomfortable. “Well…uh…because of our silver trade with Central…ma’me.” 
The silverware clinked again as the lady paused, and let her eyes roll up to stare at him and then flicked her hard gaze towards her husband, who was still focusing on drinking his wine without spilling. “Oh…of course.” She lowered the fork as she thought for a moment, and then shrugged. “Well…there’s no reason we should listen to their demands, and they certainly won’t expel any large force this far out from their land to back up their position. It won’t be mutually beneficial so it will be a waste of their time.”
“Ah…Gareth Haddock…the second…” Her husband muttered around the rim of his cup. “I’ve never heard of a man once banished…to be so surrounded by heroism…and honor. To negotiate well with him…could mean a great deal of benefit for us.”
“More than that plate you’re eating off of?” Elanna asked curtly, and her husband frowned, and then widened his eyes a little in thought. 
“Oh…probably not but…the rebellion does have a wonderful system of expedited delivery. For what they lack in riches they make up for in promptness, their dragon handling- ”
“Dragons are gross, now…” Elanna turned back to her manager. “Perhaps one day they’ll grow large enough to warrant a readdressing of this request. But our initial stance to politely decline will hold. In any event, I’ll talk to them tomorrow at the meeting point.” She paused as she saw the manager hesitating. “What?”
The manger rubbed his chin. “Well my lady King Haddock’s head representive Chief Grey Bergman will be arriving with her blade, and his personal guard.”
“Just as I will be there with my own blade and my own guard, two of them, with everyone of no noble blood being unarmed, as we agreed to in letter correspondence. What’s the problem?”
“The guard is that Stonegit fellow my lady…”
The lady sat back in her seat with irritation. “Oh son of a bitch.” 
The husband blinked again. “Stone…git…I think it was that boy who er…um…ah yes…the one who crushed Tal Donz’s head.”
Elanna scoffed. “Yes I’ve heard of his unruliness. But Tal Donz wasn’t exactly a man of well breeding, no Donz is. He went in with threats. But what kind of diplomacy would you expect from someone who bedded a foreigner the way he did.” 
A bead of sweat touched the managers brow. This was what he was worried about. “Well my lady the trouble is…a um…dinner guest, during a meeting summit, one of the rare moments Haddock himself made a public appearance, was already struck by this particular guard for mentioning something…uncouth.”
Elanna frowned. “A diner guest doubtless insulted his King and was ordered to do so. Which I suppose makes sense given that dehumanizing mark on his head.”
The manger was suddenly feeling a great sense of unease come over him. “Aye ma’me the guest was being persistently rude, although he did not dare insult the likes of Haddock, and was in no mood of stopping despite the reprimands of multiple guests…at a certain point the guard…um…punched him. And it was…it was rather hard too.”
“It’s a wonder he is still in the King’s service.”
“Evidently and…um…ma’me…I really can’t stress this enough. Should certain things go poorly…it is likely…he…will….”
“Yes?”
“Well…” The manager rubbed the back of his neck. “Hityoutoo?”
Elanna stood up with a clatter as her hands slapped the table. “I should think not! I am a baroness, and if a oafish guard cannot remember that than the Chief will! I am not some simple, low tier, ‘noble’ guest.”
“My lady…the guest he struck was um…also…a baron…”
“It, does, not, matter.” Elanna said through ground teeth. “I will decline their request, simple as that.”
The manger felt himself relax.
“And that will be all I say to those filthy animal fraternizers.” 
The manger no longer felt relaxed. He clenched his fists. “Well, there was also an incident were-” 
“Another incident are you serious?! Do they not have any other child refugee to fill a guard gap? Or maybe have it so the Chief get’s her own bodyguard instead of using the Kings? Why allow him to attend anyway?”
The manger pressed on. “My lady please! Negotiations as far as my reports have found go very, very well with the Rebellion. But the most recent ones that did not go well included the rude guest I mentioned earlier, and an estate owner who purchased his slaves from Central, who attempted to abuse his position to blackmail them which resulted in his nose nearly being removed upon getting slammed into a table now ma’me…” He paused as he took a few deep breaths. “These rebels…they sided with Hel, HEL, over a rude representative from Odin. The choice cost them war, danger, and loss of life. But in the end they won, and Haddock himself stabbed said rude representative in the mouth. They were a tiny rebellion, but by now it has already shook Central to its core. If you say no and you argue that is fine, and I know they are just rebels. but this boy has no grasp of politics, should you be careless he, will, hit you…”
Elanna had gone still, her eyes blazing. “I am a baroness…” She said again. “And will not fear my own words around anyone, and that is final. I shall call them heroes and king if I want. I shall call them vagabonds if I want.”
“Well my lady it’s not really a matter of insults more of an issue of someone levera-”
“Enough!” The baroness barked. “I’ve had enough. You are free to go…without another word.” She sat down and angrily took up her fork again. “Ridiculous…” She muttered.
=== Part 2 ===
“Stonegit ended up kicking her in the throat.” An advisor sighed as Dormer, a micro fraction leader of Central, was straightening out his robes. “Cracked her larynx.”
Dormer paused, and then shook his head. “Good gods…how did that end?”
“Considering Grey Bergman single handedly killed the entirety of Orskaf’s Donz’s lessor judges…they made an easy escape.”
Dormer peeked out his doors that lead to a meeting room. “And you’re saying Haddock once again allowed Stonegit to attend a diplomatic session, our diplomatic session?”
The adviser cringed. “No sir um…Stonegit is coming here alone.”
“What?! But you just said he hardly knows how to read? How is he going to know the steps for proper negotiation unless…” His eyes widened a little, and he felt a hand come up to touch his throat. “Oh…”
“Yeah…oh…” The advisor agreed. 
“He can’t just walk in here and punch me!” Dormer stammered as he checked the door again. “We agreed to negotiation! It’s not like staying fully aligned with the other fractions is in our best interest anyway given how this war is going. But we’re barely keeping afloat and that’s with us pushing our productivity to the absolute maximum!”
“And part of that problem in our half breed export, the letter we got from the rebellion stated very clearly that negotiations would be very short if we did not halt it. They have been very aggressive with shutting down the larger factions resources by negotiating with those that once dealt trade with them.”
“They can’t just bully people into submitting to their terms!” Dormer cried. 
The advisor held up some paper. “They don’t that’s the thing, every person he’s punched or otherwise always objectively attempted to blackmail, intimidate, or threaten while leveraging their position. They willingly suffer under the consequences of their actions. Negotiations, even unsuccessful ones largely go very well.”
Dormer spread his arms. “So I won’t blackmail them, I’ll just say no. I’ll even spare what they consider ‘racist’ just for him.” He frowned. “But I’m still caught up on why it’s this particular bodyguard that came by himself. Or even why he’s permitted to attend any of these at all? Shouldn’t he be guarding his King? Even if this was something so simple that he only send a simple man, why that one?”
The advisor shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you”
“Hmm…” Dormer clicked his tongue. “Okay, let’s make sure we have our list checked off. If I don’t threaten, blackmail, slur, or make myself overtly antagonistic when I say no, I’m good?”
“I think…” The advisor paged through his notes of personal findings and dug up information, along with a fairly large sheet of rumors. “Yes…now, a customer of ours said both the Chief and guard alike were…less understanding of ‘no’ when it came to them purchasing slaves from us. So they did cancel that…”
Dormer heard the room preparing itself outside. There were several more advisors lining an upper balcony, but no weapons were present aside from Dormer’s blade. The leader exhaled and checked himself over. He was no a man used to a rough upbringing, or even much hard work, and certainly not violence. The worst he had was a badly stubbed toe, and the idea of something like that happening to his face was scarcely comprehensible. “Uh…” He turned to the advisor nervously. “Look uh…barons, noblemen, that’s not really…you know, fraction leader material right there right?”
The advisor shrugged. “Apparently he stabbed Loki in the eye once so…I don’t know sir. All I know is that this is the first time they’ve agreed to deal negotiability with a Central faction.”
“Fuck why does this guy have to be here? Why him? Can’t we get like, just one cross bow up there?” Dormer bemoaned.
“We very implicitly agreed ‘no weapons’ and no large collection of even unarmed men. Just you, and him, and all of us watching. If we breach that, the Rebellion could target us pointedly and we won’t be able to hold them off like the big boys.”
“Yeah and what if he hits me!?”
“He’ll only hit you if you do any of the aforementioned things. Just say no at a safe distance, and he’ll leave.”
Dormer groaned, and then rolled his neck. “Okay, okay, you’re right. No big deal. Let’s just make this as quick, and as civil as possible.”
The leader pushed himself out into the room just as Stonegit walked carefully in on the other side. The boy glanced around at the other men above him, took note of how people were positioned, and then stepped the rest of the way.
Dormer stepped up to him and extended his hand. “Mr…Stonegit? Merin Dormer.” Gods I can’t believe I’ve been put in a spot that dictates I deal with a rebel. Hel really fucked us good on this one. 
Stonegit grabbed his hand and looked him in the eyes as best he could. “I saw a caged cart going by on my way in…Did you make ends meet on that sale?” 
The boy’s eyes did NOT look as though things were off to a good start.
“Ah…” Dormer hesitated. “Yes I-oh! I mean, I didn’t.” He cleared his throat as he shook his hand. “Well I believe that’s our topic of discussion isn’t it? We can sort it all out.” He pulled on his hand, and then hesitated as Stonegit didn’t let go. “Um, how about-”
Dormer’s arm was suddenly pulled into a lock behind his back, and a second later, Stonegit threw him to the ground. The observing advisors gasped and watched in shocked awe as Stonegit lifted a foot and began to stomp on Dormer’s face. 
Blood flex struck the floor as four succinct strikes were pressed into the man’s head, and then a fifth, heel pointed, downward jut that smashed the fraction leaders nose. At that point Dormer had flung up his hand and curled on his side to ward away the attacks. 
Stonegit bent down and took his sword from him, setting it level with his neck. “Call a single extra man or make another move and I’ll do more than just bloody his face!”
“This is outrageous! Your rebellion is shamefully represented by this!” An observer called.
“King Haddock’s rebellion does not care if Central sees us in a poor light.” Stonegit called back, his eyes blazing.
“We…” Dormer coughed as he spat blood. “We were supposed to negotiate. You weren’t supposed…you weren’t-” 
Stonegit reached in his pocket and produced a wad of cloth. “Wipe up.” 
Dormer fumbled with the cloth until he realized it was as bloodied as he was. A set of coach gloves. “What?”
“I decided not to kill the carriage driver, but I also didn’t check to see what the half breeds did with him either. Now, we will negotiate with customers. But we will only warn slave buyers…and this…this is all we will ever do with and for slave dealers.” He stepped away from him. “Now I will be back tomorrow, same time, same conditions. Whether you decided to get close to me again is one you. But you will have your slaving halted at least!” Stonegit tossed down the sword as he walked away. “How’s that for ediquit?” 
“Etiquette!” The observer from the balcony called after him. “And I should say sir you have none!” 
=== Part 3 ===
Dormer: “This is a bad idea.” The advisor said as Dormer starred at the door with furious eyes. His face was a matted purple and his nose heavily bandaged, each eye blackened. 
“I don’t care. If that’s how rebels are, we’ll show them their folly.”
The archers hidden behind the pillars above gripped their cross bows. 
The advisor bit his lower lip. “I understand he broke negotiable agreement sir but he also didn’t kill you. If we shoot the personal bodyguard of the King we could face the front line of their war.”
Dormer glared at him. “I have never been more humiliated in all my life! And now we are in crisis because a whole damn shipment was stopped! So let’s take a page out of the rebels book shall we? Maybe we should show them what we think of brainless sympathizers and ruffians!” He looked up at the archers. “No risks you hear. The moment he shows up, put an arrow in his face.”
He then turned to the door…and waited.
The Warden: Upon hearing the faint sounds of footsteps from the hall beyond the door, the hidden guards tightened their grips, ready to swing around and make an example of the source of absolute insolence and disrespect from yesterday. Something sounded strange, however. The strides were incredibly long and slow, and the sound thereof sharp and ringing against the polished stone, and as the two of them glanced at each other in warning, they both stiffened and choked, and their expressions went blank as their pupils constricted.
The doors clunked and began to open, and Dormer's heart pounded as he waited to hear the familiar sound of crossbow bolts whistling through the air.
He did hear it. But then he felt two huge jolts of ripping pain tear through either of his calves, as the arrows launched not at the entryway, but at Dormer's legs, forming an X below his knees as he crumpled from both impacts.
The footsteps paused, and the room gaped at the figure that had entered. Its stature made the room appear smaller than it was, and put the tallest man in the place to shame. It was an alien build of cracked, white, glassy limbs and glistening, scar-ridden, dark crimson tissue, in an exposed, feminine form. It crossed its arms, looking up at the balcony with a white mask of a face and glowing red eyes, and then it looked down at Dormer. He felt a heavy, forceful presence that weighed on him physically, and made his ears ring and his head ache and his vision fuzz.
Your esteemed guards appear to have missed their target. A female voice echoed through the room, pointed and profound and touched with sarcastic humor. Fortunate for you, isn't it? Better they strike and miss, rather than murder King Gareth Haddock's own bodyguard over a simple diplomatic misunderstanding. That truly may have been the most idiotic mistake you could have made. A single spike of rage seemed to implant itself directly to Dormer's head, like a blade of hot steel, along with the impression that this all wasn't just a foolish slip-up, like her words implied. They had made a grave error.
Stonegit: Dormer was whimpering by the time the Warden retracted her probe and his whole body shook from both pain and terror. The room was a buzz of confusion and fear, and Nala could hear their hushed, jittering talk.
"Why is there a demon here?!"
"This shouldn't be possible, Central controlled demons not fell to them!"
"The rumors are true, the being that once imprisoned them now serves their cause!"
"This is insanity!"
Dormer, now pale and sweating, attempted to get his mind to race quickly enough to try and rectify this situation. He then paled further as Stonegit strode his way deliberately around the Warden and towards him. "Okay!" He screamed. "I yield! I'll get the paperwor-!"
Stonegit punched him directly in the face, and then grabbed fistfuls of his robe and hauled him up and onto the table behind him. There was a moment of strained grunts and half shrieks, and then Stonegit closed his hands around the man's throat to cut off his air.
The advisor starred in numb shock between the guard strangling his leader, and the literal demon that watched over the room. I think...I think I get why it was always this guard... he thought with a twist in his gut. The rebellion always had these means when negotiating! They always had...THAT. But we were the only ones stupid enough to bring it to this point! 
The Warden: Do you know the leader of the faction that ruled the southwest, Lucius? The demon continued to make casual conversation with the advisor as though his leader wasn't being suffocated right in front of them. Commander Gunmar Rosso, of the Gathering of Dusk. Power-hungry. Ruthless. Stubborn. Greedy. You wouldn't happen to remember how he met his end, would you? You are such a small, fragile faction, after all. Maybe the news does not travel this far.
Stonegit: The advisor looked at the still awestruck archers, and then at Dormer. His eyes flickered. He did know those names...and he did know how they had died. At the hands of a demon, and rebels who fought like one. These rebels waged war against Central and their slaving for no reason other than they wanted it stopped. Not even profit drove him, it was almost beyond the man’s comprehension.
He opened his mouth as he looked into Dormer’s wide eyes, and then his mouth slowly closed, and he motioned for the archers to drop their weapons. He comprehended enough. Dormer had been hemorrhaging slaves out of their lands to recover from the financial burden of the splitting. He had seen Stonegit’s behavior as tactless, and perhaps for other times it was, but not this time. It had been a message, a serious message, and one perhaps that still included mercy in its own strange way. But the leader had reacted to it as poorly as possible.
They wouldn’t deal with a slaver.
As his hand tapped against Stonegit’s weakly, Dormer’s eyes glassed over, and his body became limp. Stonegit stepped back, inhaling thinly through his nose and then exhaling through his mouth. He turned to face the advisor, who stood very still with his hands closed at his sides. “Don’t kill me...” He said very, very quietly. 
“The caravans-” Stonegit said darkly. 
“Will be notified to halt and release.” The advisor said, his stomach coiling at the sight of Dormer’s lifeless body on his own dining table. “Our slaving operations will cease, immediately. We will also...um...reconstruct any...un...unsatisfactory laws involving sub- oh hel! Half breeds! Anything involving half breeds!”
“Well I should think so.” Stonegit replied.
The advisor swallowed thickly as he looked between Stonegit and the demon. “Our people have fallen on hard times...” He said meekly. 
Stonegit massaged his hands absentmindedly. “Well now that you’re worth talking to I’m sure our Chief and King would be happy to organize a meeting of diplomacy. Now...I have, and had, a place I wanted to be and stay, and it wasn’t here.” He turned to the Warden. “You got anything else for him?” 
The Warden: Her sharp gaze pierced the advisor as he mentioned difficult times, and then her head tilted towards Stonegit as he spoke. 
Nothing that matters too much. Nala directed her words to everyone in the room. Only that so long as they know the plight of the Grand Commander, they remember that if I would burn down an entire faction for the death of one man...they can use their imagination to imagine what I can do to enact justice upon the torture of an entire race. She raised a hand, and on the ground below the balcony, a circular sigil began to glow beneath them, a massive rendition of a demonic seal similar to the one that had appeared outside the Citadel in Traebor, where the leaders of the Gathering still lay dead and decomposing. Then she abruptly curled up her fingers into a fist, and the scarlet lines on the stone below disappeared with several hisses of smoke.
Or they can change, and prosper. It is their decision. She turned on her heel. Shall we, Stonegit? 
Stonegit: “Yeah…” Stonegit said gruffly, still glaring at the advisor. “Let’s go…Grey can handle all the complicated stuff…”
The advisor watched where the ground had once started to burn, and realized how lucky they were that only Dormer had been the one to die in light of this. He didn’t say anything though, he just kept his head down. He didn’t want to look at the demon.
If those arrows had hit that guard we’d all be dead…
Category:EU
Category:Events
Category:Stonegit Brotchurn Elmiss
Category:Dormer
Category:The Warden