Fionna circled behind her guests to close her door with a quiet click, and then picked up the letter Dyarhk had sent her.
"I thought it might be best if the Baron was present for this meeting, since you mentioned him in your note," she began by way of preamble, before dropping the letter in front of Alain so they were all on the same page. She folded her hands before her as she got settled and paused to give him a moment to read.
Alain skimmed the letter, then re-read it in further detail, and nodded. His hands folded too, pressing the tips of his thumbs together, and he looked quietly between them for a moment. "It's called Camp Devotion, and Dyarhk's right, I've been there twice before. Somewhere in the low thousands of refugees whose property was severely damaged or destroyed in the violence last fall, currently dwelling in territory owned by a group or confederation called the Dwarven Mountain Lords. And in considerable financial trouble with a powerful law firm and legal think tank called Vanderhorst & Sons. May I smoke?"
She gestured with a roll of her hand. Permission to both smoke and continue.
Alain took a moment to light a cigarillo while Dyarhk sipped his coffee. "Can't get by without one on occasion," he muttered smokily, and grinned a little. "Anyway. My understanding of it is that Vanderhorst has purchased the refugees' debts on their mortgages, leases, and other bills that have gone unpaid since their displacement, and are now attempting to enforce those debts. They've been surveying Camp Devotion, and hiring an awful lot of security people for a think tank, and they've shown them off around the camp at least once before."
He took another puff, and frowned. "Nearly incited a riot, the last time I was there. I can't prove it, but the signs were all there. They wouldn't have been doing things the way they did unless they wanted to provoke an incident. Dyarhk, am I getting this more or less right, from your perspective?" He looked across the table, pausing.
Dyarhk's lips smacked as he sat the cup down, finally. "That's correct. The people are afraid to talk about what is going on there. This unnerves me, since I had helped manage their safety along with Commander McDowell of Town Hall. They're good people, but they're wrapped tightly around someone's thumb."
Alain nodded, and looked back at Fio. "And that's the full extent of my knowledge. I've been making....private inquiries regarding Vanderhorst, but I still have no idea what gives him the right to enforce these debts. Whatever it is, local authorities seem to think his case is bulletproof. My theory is that he's looking to turn the indebted refugees into indentured servants, which would make him an immensely wealthy and powerful man. We're talking upwards of fifty million credits, and probably over a hundred million."
He leaned forward and tapped his cigarillo over an ashtray. "I've floated the idea before St. Aldwin's Council about resettlement, but without a solid financial plan, and the tricky issue of these people's debts....they consider it unwise to offer anything beyond food and supplies, at least until these issues are resolved. If they can be, at all." He was done. He leaned back in his chair a little.
Fionna shifted her attention then to Dyarhk. "I find it curious that you did not mention you were seeking resettlement for these people elsewhere."
"The situation is far more explosive than we let on. There is a great deal of secrecy, utterly pertinent secrecy that I am trying to preserve until a rescue, so to speak, can be enacted. Though my declaration of relocation for these people has been very public, and was most recently at my workshop had you chosen to attend, Governor."
Her brows crept gradually higher. While the Baron, also, was silent, one hand had left his lap, two fingertips tapping on the edge of the table. Fionna didn't move and didn't speak. She simply stared at the other man, past the point where the silence should have grown uncomfortable.
Alain cleared his throat, at last, and spoke up. "I was also unaware that Dyarhk," nodding to him, and looking back to Fio, "had turned to the Governor's office for help at this time....so you and I have both been caught unawares, Governor. But then, I became aware of this issue when your seat was effectively empty. Resettlement to St. Aldwin seemed like the best possible solution in that context....but between the refugees' debts, the possibility of an international incident resulting, and our own recent refugee burdens and budget problems, St. Aldwin finds itself unable to resettle them under current circumstances."
He ashed his cigarette again, and turned his head. "Dyarhk, perhaps you could explain how Mr. Vanderhorst intends to enforce his claim on the refugees through their debts?"
Dyarhk nodded, staring beyond the conference table and into the recollection itself. His fingers gently curled on the table. "Neither Alain nor I have yet to survey the Western Rhy"Din-based agency itself. It is far from where we are. But we have already seen what they plan to do. It is in relation to the riot the baron spoke of, Vanderhorst has a large assembly of agents under his farcical little masquerade of a business firm. We caught them whispering poisonous little reminders down the ears of the refugees to remember them. Scheduling dates of payment at the camp. The consensus amongst the refugees is that they can have their limited, aid provided that Vanderhorst collects on each of them; and they have enough paper with writing on it and men to show them these documents to enforce that."
Alain rubbed at his brow with his left hand. Careful with that cigarillo, Baron. "I meant the legal justification for their actions."
The Governor's lips pursed once and eased. She was carefully attentive through all of this to both men.
Alain leaned towards Fio and inquired quietly after a drink after all. Bourbon' She pointed to a credenza in the corner that hadn't been completely cleaned out in wordless response, her focus fixed on Dyarhk.
"You mean the Effectual Abandonment Clause?" His browse rose. "That's right. Guy Vanderhorst and his agency is pivoting their plans on a law that states after RhyDin citizens have lived x amount of days in a specific space then they fall under this clause that prevents them from returning to their properties."
Her incredulity simply grew. Her finger started tapping against her leg.
"Which only exacerbates the existing debt problems." Alain picked out a bottle of Basil Hayden, poured himself a glass, then gestured questioningly with the bottle toward Fio.
She shook her head.
"If they could return to what?s left of their homes, and their jobs too, they could probably find the means to get their heads back above water, and fight Vanderhorst's bull," he continued. "But this has been going on long enough that most of their positions have already been filled, given our city's extremely mobile population. Again, resettlement seems like the best option, but Vanderhorst has a claim on these people." His tone gave hint to his doubts about the legitimacy of the claims.
"Precisely. A last leg these people would use to stand upon is being denied." Dyarhk chimed in.
"I see. And whose idea was it to encamp them together, rather than processing them through the Welcome Center with new immigrants?" She finally spoke.
Dyarhk raised his hand, frowning; Alain took a seat, his mouth hidden by the rim of his glass.
Another purse of her lips. "Why?"
"It was a time of war, Governor. I was a little busy to study the "this and that' of right and wrong. Town Hall and Rhy"Din City were attacked in the fall, as Alain has said. They needed immediate shelter, that's what they got. They needed a leader, who was not exactly prepared for the job, but that's what they got." He jerked a thumb toward his chest. "But like hell the situation was going to be left the way it was."
"Don't take that tone with me, Dyarhk, or we'll end this right here. It was a simple question." Her own tone was coolly mild by comparison, but there was no mistaking the reprimand for what it was.
He placed a hand out low over the table, pushing the heat back down with a cool hand. Canting his head, he nodded his agreement. "...We need help, Governor. I have a proposition, for the both of you, if you'll hear me."
(continued in next post)
