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The Council of Nobles was in session, with many nobles fighting and arguing back and forth. The room itself was made of marble and housed on the fourth tier of the Spire; alongside the many noble's homes. The seats were arrayed tiers, going up by about five levels: representing the city of Griss herself. The bottom tier here, however, was higher ranking nobles - so they could get onto the floor quicker. The floor was designed in a crescent shape, with the Speaker occupying the middle of the floor. Whenever a new issue or agenda is pressed, the noble would stand in the middle of his peers and address them all at once, being judged on all sides.

While the Council was supposed to serve the Emperor, it wasn't uncommon for the nobles to attempt to further themselves within the chamber instead; for it happened on nearly a daily basis. It didn't help that the Emperor himself hadn't attended the meetings since his coronation to the throne, where the nobles swore the oath of fealty.

That oath didn't mean very much anymore, and the petty squabbles continued on as the Lords shouted back and forth over issues brought up by the speaker in the middle of them. At the moment, it was Lord DuFrane, a family with old blood who was rumored to be one of the last followers of the Starke's, before the final Starke Emperor was assassinated. When the nobles around him quieted, the raccoon at the center of it spoke up once more.

"It's simple, really: I vote that we send a Templar to deal with the report of the rogue Blood Magi in the ground district. It will not only conserve the strength of our knights it lowers the risk of the mage doing something drastic in retaliation. This is a time for stealth, not brute force. Besides, it is their ancient charge to deal with rogue mages," the room erupted; half of it into cheers of agreement and the other half into jeers of argument. It wasn't an unusual sight. The political lines had been drawn long ago, and the mouse that stood up next was at the head of the other political side of things.

Lord Jericho Avori.

His family was disgraced for the longest period of time, only recently coming back into power three generations ago, when his family's knights stopped an Undying push that had made it over the wall. The Emperor at the time, Emperor Orender the Second had washed away his family's past, and restored its place on the Council. Within two generations, they had the backing of half the Council and Lord DuFrane couldn't help but feel that they weren't serving Griss' best intentions.

"Lords and Ladies, please - give Lord DuFrane some quiet. I can hardly think myself," the rodent spoke, the field mouse stepping down and moving up to the speaking platform at the center of the room. The room erupted into whispers; usually the platform at the center was occupied by one man, not two. But the Avori had long bent the rules to get ahead. "I agree that we should send someone after the Blood Magi, and a Templar makes sense," the field mouse confirmed.

"But a Templar doesn't know the city like our own men do. And, Blood Magi or not, the Grandmaster would no doubt send a trainee after the rogue mage to 'prove himself' to his so-called Brothers," the mouse turned toward the audience of nobles, eyes inspecting the expression on every one of them.

"The large majority of them have spent their whole lives in their Village, and the ground district is nothing but mud, brick, and dirt; a Templar wouldn't even know where to start. All I ask for is permission to send a few knights down to find and remove this problem of a Blood Magi," The rodent turned, facing DuFrane directly, "Besides; your Templar could start a political scandal if they handle it poorly. My knights know how to be... discrete."

DuFrane would have laughed there if the rodent hadn't been so right. The knights served each royal family individually, even though they technically served the Emperor. They were trained by the family, housed by that family, and paid by that family; and with the mouse's earlier disgrace, his knights weren't even used in traditional combat. No, they trained for more convert operations. It was how they got to the Undying before the other knights - they ambushed and slaughtered them rather than facing them directly.

Plus, the raccoon wouldn't have been surprised to learn that the handful of recent 'unexplained deaths' among the nobility were actually Avori's men.

"Order!" The crier, an elder feline called, and despite his advanced age his voice still carried the power of his position. He was the voice of the Emperor within the room, and it was his final say that decided all matters. When the staff in his paws landed on the marble surface of the floor, the issue was decided. DuFrane wasn't sure if he had been bought off or not, but he could already see the verdict in the old man's face as he slowly moved to stand in the center of the room.

"Lords and Ladies of the Council, on behalf of our beloved Emperor Orender the Sixth, I hereby declare that Avori's knights take to the field," he turned to the mouse, "in a small number, to deal with the mage. The Templar will have no presence in the matter." The feline looked around at the silent room even as DuFrane lowered his head in defeat.

With a satisfied nod and a lifting of the gnarled, ancient staff in his paws, he spoke, "I declare this issue," he slammed the staff down, the noise ringing off the walls and the cold, marble seating, "resolved." And all at once it was chaos again, the crier taking his seat as another Lord or Lady tried to get their case or issue viewed next.