abuzarbeg

[abuzarbeg]

glorifiedcrown​:

⇢ It was a fact known to those individuals closest to Konstantin’s seemingly callous heart that the quickest method of earning his favor was through flattery. The overconfidence which the Russian man harbored caused this sort of flattery to be received graciously, for he believed that he was unlike any other man - he truly believed that no one could compete against him, other than perhaps the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire, but that wasn’t a spoken fact. This definitely wouldn’t be shared with the intriguing stranger in front of him; a man who caused the Crown Prince’s curiosity to soar with every word he spoke. Studying the other’s characteristics and assets, it was quite evident he was wealthy, and very much influential if he was invited to an event of this type - a perfect target for Konstantin’s schemes and manipulation.

“ I seem to influence people to be awestruck quite often, you are definitely not the first, ” The arrogance which dripped off of Konstantin’s chosen words became more apparent than his thick accent which always set him apart from the crowds of Lisbon, though he didn’t mind the attention which he gathered from the population one bit. Due to the fact that the second son’s excessive pride had been complimented, an impolite chuckle escaped his lips when the other bowed, not because he disrespected the supposed ‘most trusted advisor’, rather because he was enamored with the figure and wished not to express it too evidently at an event of this status. “ I have neglected Persian relations until this moment, Abuzar. I am interested to learn about whatever benefits you may have to offer, I will gladly inform my brother, the Tsar. ” The tone of fondness which now came from Konstantin’s words was mixed with a smile which formed from his usual smirk, crossing his arms in front of his chest out of habit as he spoke. 

It appeared that Abuzar knew every trick in the game that was Konstantin Rurik: he had so easily played into the other’s mindset, even while Konstantin may have been oblivious to the fact that Abuzar managed to find a way under his skin. In truth, Persia had not been on the Crown Prince’s list of necessary connections until perhaps this introduction, all thanks to the demeanor which the other man carried: there were no hopes of Konstantin gaining a new admiration for the artworks in the room if Abuzar maintained the behaviors he was currently presenting. 

“ Bewildering? I do hope you mean so in a positive connotation, as I intend to promote Persia in Russia’s eyes after this meeting. I do agree that it would be enticing for Persia and Russia to build and maintain a friendship, but perhaps I believe this way for much different reasons than yours, ” Beginning to walk as he spoke, he trusted the advisor would follow him, as he wished to at least make it appear as if he was appreciating the pieces being presented while not bringing too much attention to the statement he conjured. 

“ You must speak of the importance of Persia. Why should I prioritize this friendship over others? Persuade me. ”

Abuzar Beg offered the Crown Prince a gentle smile, the warmest he could muster, as he soaked in his own conceit. To the shahbanu's trusted advisor, it was nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to offend, as his birth did give him the right to do as he pleased, to bask in his own glory. These things do not come easy for any man, but the nobles are not just any men. They were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, an edge and an advantage over the rest of them, with which they could lord over as much as they wanted. Abuzar was just a man, not a noble, not of the blood, so who was he to judge those considered better than him? 

His smile grew wider when Prince Konstantin mentioned the Tsar himself. If he had planned this meeting from the start, it would have been the best if not only result he'd have aimed for. But this meeting was not planned, not by Abuzar at least, and he dwelled on his luck, on the opportunity bequeathed to him by the fates themselves. He had hoped for a chance encounter with a duke or two, but the Crown Prince of Russia? Who was now going to bridge both their countries in what could be the most beneficial of relations? Abuzar was beyond delighted.

"I would hope that every connotation in our conversation would be considered positive, your Majesty, as I intend them to be, though I apologize with all my heart if my command of the language is a little...in need of more work." Abuzar instinctively took his place beside the Crown Prince, walking with him. If he had not made the first step, the Persian would have gladly guided him in the same path. 

The exhibition gave them the best setting for such a dialogue. It would be a waste if they did not make full use of it. "Persia, even in these times, are growing steadily strong, my Prince. The country is prospering and our trade relations continue to expand, especially with countries in the farther east. Through us, through our friendship, Russia can further thrive, bolstering its wealth through trade with new partners, as will we."

If anything, Abuzar believed that the shah would be willing to marry his own son, the Shahzadeh Mahmud, to a Russian princess in order to cement such a partnership. That would allow the boy to...take some time away from the country, perhaps even curb his criticism by way of finally experiencing the true art of diplomacy, the hardships of which would temper his youthful exuberance. 

Mahmud had some skill in both war and trade as well, which make him a good asset to the Russians, and should he eventually rise to the throne, he would be thankful for the opportunity to have expanded his own accomplishments and knowledge through the match. But that's between kings and queens. Abuzar merely paves the road with his blood and sweat in hopes that it could lead to better lives for all involved.

[abuzarbeg]

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓  𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊  𝐎𝐅  JULY 21  –  JULY 27.

CURRENT POINTS: 85

MENTORSHIP BASED POINTS: 50 points. Link

STARTERS: 15 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (glorifiedcrown​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (basturkish​​​): 10 points. Link

OVERALL POINTS: 755

[abuzarbeg]

basturkish​:

        persia was neither friend nor foe; ally nor enemy. it would be harder for the shah to prove himself as the former, though near effortless to style himself as an adversary of the ottoman sultan. for his part, yazid received the gentleman with attentive, judicious goodwill. it was rare for the pasha to meet foreigners head-on with animosity, as it was not until their loyalty was tried and disproved that he stripped away the trappings of altruism. “as they say, the mind is willing, but the flesh is weak. or, i suppose, in this circumstance: the appetite is weak.” an easy smile graced the corners of yazid’s lips. “such seems to be the plague of european kings: excessive appetite.” it was even more apparent as muslim congregations began their yearly fast, observing the cultural and religious practices of ramadan, whereas their catholic counterparts did not –– continuing to make merry and indulge at all hours of the night.

“second vizier, yes.” the designation crept under yazid’s skin, a persistent irritation. “my loyalty is to the sultan iskender –– though i admit to great curiosity of the timurids. how does your shah fare?”

Abuzar Beg could not help but grin at the chosen words. Deep within himself, he shared the belief. The Europeans have not entirely shown their strength in their will through abstinence and avoidance of unnecessary wine, indulgences, nor have their proclivities towards these things helped their cause. Too much food, too much drinking, too much posturing, it was the burden of Western kings, inherited by their children. Abuzar was glad to share such views with someone else, though he should not have been surprised, as both of them were draped in the same religious beliefs, it seemed. 

"As young as your Sultan, I believe? Youthful, wide-eyed still, with potential for greatness and an ear for good counsel." The last part, Abuzar made sure to accompany with a brief bow to acknowledge the contributions of the vizier. Second or first, it did not matter in the grander scheme of things. Both provided counsel for their kings, though being heeded is a different matter. 

Abuzar thought that he himself, were Persia to share the same hierarchy as the Ottomans, would only ascend to second vizier, never further. He was, after all, still considered by the Timurids as an exile, a failure from the Delhi Sultanate, cast aside by the betrayal of his own people, of his chosen queen's people. His only saving grace was his loyalty to the shahbanu, favored by the shah, and his numerous invaluable contacts with the Chinese. "It is a waste, I believe, that our empires could not be closer as friends, stronger in bond. Perhaps we could change that?"

[abuzarbeg]

glorifiedcrown​:

⇢ Between Konstantin and his younger, and arguably more intellectually advanced brother Nikita, the Grand Duke of Russia, it was unexpected for the Crown Prince to be invited to an Art Exhibition. Throughout his years, Konstantin was the son who was pushed towards the military, causing the ability within him of appreciating treasures and arts to be diminished greatly. To be honest, the second son of the Russian royal family neglected arts and literature, not because he had a disliking for them, but because he viewed spending too much time admiring the arts was a distraction to his ambitions. Regardless, this invitation was gladly received, since he seemed to always be able to twist circumstances to further advance his intents — this gathering would only be used to gain more political ties and advanced favor from certain important nobles that he viewed worthy of his time.

While the Crown Prince had kept himself occupied in Lisbon with numerous political meetings and social events which would only help maintain his charming reputation, there were still a myriad of impactful figures he had not encountered. To those within Russia who were closer to Konstantin, they were aware that he enjoyed masking himself with a genuine front, using his manipulation to do whatever he must to advance their standing. This type of mask caused the citizens he represented in Russia to develop such a strong adoration for the man, arguably even a greater admiration than what his brother the Tsar held. This trip was proving to earn him the same reputation: even so far from his home country, Konstantin managed to acquire the fondness of a myriad of royals and nobles.

Caught off guard by a unique voice he had never witnessed before, Konstantin held a confused expression on his face before turning to the other, quite pleased with what he saw. While he would not vocally admit to it, the figure before him caught his interest, and the Prince’s trademark smirk crept back onto his gaze. “ I must admit, Sir, I have not taken much time to appreciate the arts, though I am glad to have been invited. Perhaps this gathering will give me a new admiration for these creations, ” Konstantin responded, his voice having a light tone as he portrayed a kindness he developed to persuade and manipulate nobles around him. The Prince’s eyes examined the man before him, deciphering if he would be a good candidate for alliances. His smirk grew into more of a smile after the other’s comment, since these types of compliments were always a weakness for Konstantin. Moving closer to the other, since his attention was not drawn towards the creations before them.

“ You are not intruding, Sir. I am quite pleased you have decided to introduce yourself to me, you may be one of the greatest pieces of art in this entire exhibit. Of course, I’m sure you have political intentions speaking to me. I apologize sincerely for being unaware of your identity, but you are…? ”

There was something about the Crown Prince that struck Abuzar Beg as interesting, if not intriguing, though the trusted advisor to the shahbanu knew better than to conclude after only one meeting, especially when that meeting was yet concluded itself. Still, Abuzar could not help himself, comparing Konstantin with Prince Vasily, the latter he had met during the feast days earlier. It was a logical thing to do, when considering direct alliances, and Abuzar always considered his options, Persia's options. Both did seem cut from the same cloth, though the Crown Prince was more subtle while Prince Vasily was less concerned with improprieties. Perhaps such attitudes may change. Only time can ever tell.

"Of course, apologies, your Grace, my manners have left me, as awe had replaced them." Abuzar put a scarred hand on his chest, his flowing robes, of the best silk from Persia as insisted by the shahbanu herself, unintentionally revealing more than intended. His wits ever fast, he quickly took both hands and clasped them behind his back, offering the Crown Prince Konstantin an extended bow, graceful and careful, to acknowledge his royal presence with utmost respect. Abuzar was no noble, his station beneath the ruling class, and he knew and accepted that truth. He had no delusions to exceed his birthright, if only to guide and guard that of his oldest, most important friend, his family, his dear shahbanu. "I am the most trusted advisor to the Shahbanu Ghazala of Persia, Abuzar Beg, here to humbly represent the intentions of the empire."

Abuzar did believe that it was refreshing to encounter the Prince Konstantin's frankness. He did have political intentions in approaching Konstantin, as most nobles and diplomats would, given the gathering's more ulterior motives. Such was the truth in diplomacy, such was the need in commerce, and such was the way of life of kings and queens and their bloodline. Abuzar found no fault nor offense to it, only admiration and amusement. The Crown Prince, after all, was one of the key players in Russia's ruling family. He would be sought after by any and all who would seek alliances and favor from the Russian Crown. Abuzar was but one of many. 

“It is but a bewildering opportunity, if I may be so bold, that my path would cross with yours, my Prince. Persia's great love for building friendships, even far beyond its borders, can rarely be satiated, and I feel this meeting of ours is destined for far greater things than I can ever comprehend. Would it not be so enticing?”

[abuzarbeg]

ON BEHALF OF THE KING OF CASTILE, ALFONSO ANSCARIDS, you are hereby invited to an iberian art exhibition which will be held on july 18th, 1458 at the jerónimos monastery. this event is in honor of the house of anscarids and to celebrate its lengthy history. the king of castile requests your presence and extends his warmest welcome.

[ closed starter for @glorifiedcrown ]

When Abuzar Beg, loyal friend and trusted advisor to the Shahbanu Ghazala of Persia, received his invitation, a playful smirk formed upon his lips at once. Formerly of the Delhi Sultanate, where he was scarred and exiled for defending the rightful queen her people had ungratefully betrayed, the arguably greatest commercial and diplomatic asset of the empire, with his numerous invaluable contacts, both within the Chinese and the Timurids themselves, ever growing, ever expanding towards the West as well, found that same smirk also growing wider each second he spent longer, strolling around, making his rounds, watching with clasped hands behind his back, the priceless pieces of art featuring the past rulers of Iberia. Most around him at this exhibition would very much like to join their ranks, but not Abuzar. Instead, he would glorify and ensure that his charge, the Shahbanu Ghazala, would be the one to find herself elevated to such heights.

Of the many other guests, kings and princes as well as diplomats such as himself, the Crown Prince of Russia was the one to catch Abuzar's dark eye. As was and will forever be his duty, Abuzar had read well on the many notable persons he could encounter in Portugal while representing the shahbanu. His was to act as her sword, a sharp blade meant to ensure friendships and alliances. Of Russia, he had already met her Prince Vasily of House Bezukhov, whom Abuzar had taken to as a strange if not refreshing conversation. The Crown Prince, the glory of his nation's great militia, ever loyal to his tsar brother, was supposed to be beloved, and Abuzar had no doubt there was a reason for such adoration. He would seek the reason for himself then.

"The array is exquisite, isn't it? The regal men of then for the viewing of the regal men of now. It's what I love about art: How they preserve what has come and gone in the most beautiful of ways." He approached him quietly, as politely as he could, making sure that there was safe distance between them, as befitting the company of a crown prince and a mere diplomat. With a brief nod, Abuzar offered the Crown Prince the warmth of a gentle smile upon his face, hoping that the Russian royalty would not take his presence too cumbersome, though he had already prepared a genuine apology should it be found otherwise. "I don't mean to intrude, my Prince. I am all but stricken with awe at this great opportunity to witness magnificence in two ways: That of the art, and that of the company."

[abuzarbeg]

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓  𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊  𝐎𝐅  JULY 14  –  JULY 20.

CURRENT POINTS: 50

PARA REPLIES (amiraofcordoba​​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (amiraofcordoba​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (yinjianjun​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (ofcxterina​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (vasilyofbezukhov​): 10 points. Link

OVERALL POINTS: 670

[abuzarbeg]

vasilyofbezukhov​:

Wine and women were Vasily’s hobby and favorite topic, thus the thing he went to instantly, even though he should have had better judgment. It wasn’t the best idea to bare his lecherous habits to those he just met, but the more he drank, the more Vasily tended to be on his worst behavior. Though it was never his intention to offend, h  often did, and seldom realized enough to feel remorse for it. It didn’t help that he often didn’t remember the offense from the night before due to his state. His only saving grace was his charm and good humor, which more often than it should have, excused him from his poor choices.

With his hand still outstretched, Vasily hoping to tempt the man into joining him and keeping company, he listened to the man’s excuse as to why not, failing to be a bad influence and feeling that the man was if strong moral. As much as he wanted to push, Vasily knew he would not get anywhere, at least not without more conversation and familiarity between himself at the man.

“Such an unfortunate birthright…. To deny yourself of the things that bring the most joy… I should think you would go mad without anything to occupy yourself.” Sighing, Vasily gave up for the moment, filling his glass to the brim, a few precious drops spilling over the rim , then set the rest down. He rather carefully brought his goblet to his lips to drink from the top, making it safe enough to hold casually before focusing back on the other man.

“I imagine then, that there must be a great deal to do where you have come from? Something to take up your time, as I am sure that actions of great faith and practicing as a warrior can only take up so much of time… Surely you have a great deal to share abou t your culture and it isn’t all so…devoted…”

"I would have, your grace, though I had been fortunate enough to find something else to occupy myself, something that since then has brought me me the most joy." As if driven by instinct, with neither concern nor fear for impropriety, the shahbanu's trusted advisor found his dark eyes wandering on their own, searching for the presence of his queen. The words that he reiterated were not his, not given birth by his wit and lips, but they shared the same sentiment with that of his heart.

Between a man and a woman, common is love brought on by relation of blood, yet Abuzar was of no noble birth, certainly far from the satin and silk, the blue and gold, that adorned Ghazala's entire childhood. Still, he bears the same love for her, once foolishly misunderstood by his then ineptitude, that he will always Padmini, her sister, whom he has not seen or met for years since the betrayal in Delhi. The thought felt like dagger upon his flesh, once more carving the reminders of his loyalty to Ghazala, to his queen, and Abuzar could not help but visibly wince. Shaking his head, he tried to regain his composure, offering the Prince an apologetic smile.

"Shatranj, your grace, is a game I most often find relaxing. I believe it is somewhat similar to your Western chess?" Abuzar reached out for his cup of water, gracefully wetting his parched lips, both quenching his thirst and calming his thoughts. His exile from Delhi was a gift by their people for his loyalty to the now shahbanu, their escape a stark souvenir of blood and scars. Often, Abuzar would be haunted by vivid nightmares of the birth of his scars, always as real in his dreams as they never are but a second thought, a passing glimpse, when he's awake. "I am more a man of literature, books and scrolls, contented with being confined to the shah's library, I'm afraid."

He chuckled at the thought of how pale his interests would seem against the Prince's own. Yet it was to be so. Abuzar was but a mere advisor, only finding himself in the company of royalty through hard study and smart work. "I did play with swords once, daggers, but it was a lifetime ago, and I have learned the lesson of my inadequacy in matters of martial prowess."

[abuzarbeg]

ofcxterina​:

it was odd kinship they’d struck up, almost immediately within the first few sentences of their conversation. their pasts contained multitudes, and in a palace filled with guilded royals that had dodged every hardship, it was comforting to be in the presence of another that carried the heaviness in their very soul. it was not, however, a heaviness that was to last.

if anyone had seen them sitting there in that moment, they could not have known the connection that had been made in that moment. this was the original goal of the gathering, to bring people from across three continents together, but caterina had doubted that it could ever happen in a form as pure as the one they shared. they were completely different people, certainly, but inexplicably connected. “i think we both think highly of the other, and because we are not foolish people, the only conclusion can be that we both deserve the praise.”

“i would be honored to learn. in return, i can only give you what i have learned.” she thought for a second, hands settling to her sides. “i can give you the woman’s perspective, and the things one can only learn from the gossiping of other women.” it was, after all, a sort of super power being a woman. underestimated by men and able to have the soft touch needed to bring secrets out into the open. 

persia and florence, now that could be an interesting set of allies. so far, yet far closer than some of the other countries present. she knew his ultimate goal was to increase the shabanu’s power, and medici gold could certainly help with that, for the right price. “i think i could certainly persuade my brother of persia’s strategic worth.” 

Abuzar Beg could not help but smile at the Lady Caterina finally accepting his praise for what it is, a truth noticed only by an expert eye. The same smile that had caught his lips unaware were improved upon by her added flattery of him, his wit, what he deserved. He's heard the same from so many, yet this particular praise, this acknowledgment of equal strength, seemed to him more uplifting than others. He had believed them to share more than they knew, and this felt to the shahbanu's trusted advisor an agreement to the thought.

While Abuzar was not lacking in invaluable contacts, most of them were more concerned in commerce and diplomacy, most were men, who, like him, would not fare as well, invited to the arena of women. If past experience has taught him anything, it's that a man's wit and power can often find themselves diluted in the presence of the right woman. That was precisely why he appreciated queens more than kings, women who take what is rightfully theirs, lay claim to greatness brought away from them, paving their own road to power and glory and fame. Abuzar thought Caterina the same, though her fire might understandably burn low at the moment.

He offered her a mixture of a brief nod and a slight bow, acknowledging her own offer of assistance. The former princess of France would serve a better, higher, purpose than Zeynab Shirazi could ever dream of. Although both were women who could so easily wade in the admirably treacherous waters of gossip, Caterina had her noble birthright, the blood that flows through her veins, while Abuzar's makeshift student, the Consort Firouzeh's own woman, shares the same perils of exotic mystery as what plagues the shahbanu's trusted advisor. In the European eye, the Persians were strange people of distant lands, and thus, wariness would be a logical approach. Caterina would not be burdened by such, which would make her quite the powerful friend.

But Abuzar would not dare view her in the same league as his invaluable contacts of commerce. She was far more valuable, more than Zeynab, more than himself. Abuzar would rather see the former princess of France reclaim her title, if not of her late husband's country then perhaps her own. Two queens of two different but allied nations, both served by him? He would be so honored and delighted. Men could slay him after and he would embrace the cold ground with satisfied smile. "...and Persia would certainly be taken by this kindness of friendship, as will I. To such end, I will endeavor to satisfy your majesty in what is needed and desired."

[abuzarbeg]

yinjianjun​:

   “I’m certainly blessed, to be privy to a wondrous banquet such as this - my children’s bedtime stories shall never lack fodder. “He would wrongfully be accused of cruelty, if another paid mind to the remarks delivered onto his Persian companion; no malice lay in the continuing remarks. Evidence lay in the poorly masked countenance’s of he and Abuzar, visibly teeming with glee and amusement. He felt a prolonged sense of ease and enjoyment in his new found friend. 

  However blunt and boisterous the courtiers were under influence of drink, they still seemed to possess the art of appearing graceful; perhaps it was ones innate charms, brought forth by a gala, that humoured Jianjun to them. He was content to entreat his fellow in a low voice for the rest of the evening - finding the companionship more full of interest and life, then amongst others. “The call of one’s duty — I salute your endeavours, being bound to marching orders of similar purchase. Should the moment arise, would you be to content to remain in Lisbon for quite some time?” Lisbon was a dizzying spell, a fever dream of some elusive concoction; Jianjun’s recollection of the days were strong, yet time moved so differently here. Did he long for home? Certainly — as certain, as the violent reaction in his heart to departing. “I would not dream of being absent from such …. rich events such as this - nor, would I abandon you to the whims of our hosts. However esteemed they may be, they are most - unique, would one say? They continue to fascinate me, certainly. Have you enjoyed as may garden walks and tea parties as I?”

"As I yours, general." A playful smirk chanced upon Abuzar Beg's lips without his notice. At the sight of the general's boyish charms, he, too, had found himself more than once tricked into considering that he may yet be but a boy, with more concerns driven and pointed towards the pursuit of equally youthful maidens, not in thoughts of his children or building a family. 

Such concerns have escaped the shahbanu's trusted advisor, if truth be told, his mind focused and sharpened only for the shahbanu's will, to the betterment of Persia. Should the Europeans hold the key to the continued growth, if not the bolstering of strength and influence, of his newfound home, then Abuzar would do nothing else but to take that key with only his wit and cunning. 

"If the shahbanu desires I remain in Lisbon, I shall, and I will." Abuzar nodded politely towards the general, his hands clasped behind his back. To an extent they were similar, two sturgeons in a foreign pond, both of the nature that their hosts would consider foreign, perhaps even mysterious and dangerous. 

Abuzar wanted nothing more than to belay such concerns, such fears. To provide for his shahbanu's rise from the shame of the betrayal in Delhi, he must make as many friends as he could, and most would be wary making friends with a stranger they could not understand. "Perhaps not as many as an esteemed general would be privy to, but I do have had an experience, a fascinating encounter with a princess."

A queen. He corrected himself in his head. Titles often complicate, if not obfuscate, the truth of one's own bearings. A late birth conceals a true queen, a royal appendage mistakes a fool for a king. Yet one can never hide from the greatness they contain, as the veneer always fails against the sight of the learned, the experienced, the eyes of a kingqueenmaker. "I hope your princess is well, my friend."  

[abuzarbeg]

amiraofcordoba​:

“She would be most welcome. We do hope most ardently to become better friends of Persia as a result of this gathering - although it is speared by many Christian nations, I should think that in some respects, Persia and Cordoba might forge a bond of mutual understanding for lying outside of that designation.” Amira straightened her shoulders, looking up upon Abuzar’s face, hands folded delicately before her.

“Your words are true, sir, and well- thought. It seems lands such as ours fight an uphill battle, but I hope that the risks of doing so prove themselves worthy when we reap the rewards.” Soft, Amira looked away for a moment, up to the stars above their heads. “I hope I am not keeping you - or indeed, boring you. I know that you must have much work to do in the name of your shahbanu, and that the philosophies of a stranger must be of little interest.”

The shahbanu's trusted advisor nodded, agreeing to the Lady Amira's sentiment, his eyes narrowing towards the horizon. The truth remained that their nations did not share the same beliefs in the greater power that drives them forward, though Abuzar hoped that in the end, they could agree that some things are left in their own hands, their own choices, the decisions they make, and the mistakes that make them. "Our faiths may not align, my lady, but I know our intentions do. We simply want what's best for our Persia and your Cordoba. This would be a great first step in that direction, if I may be so bold."

"Ah, truth be told, I am more interested in sharing philosophies than indulging in pleasantries." Abuzar could not help but smile at the thought. Almost everyone knew that he was well-versed in the art of diplomacy, in making new friends, contacts, that would benefit Persia and the shahbanu, but few truly knew that he would often lose himself in matters of philosophies and even literature. It was one of the reasons he had decided to move back to Delhi years ago, to sample the culture of his ancestors, to learn more than what had been presented before him. "Although, if the Lady Amira wishes to savor her own peace, I respectfully will not burden her further with my presence."

Abuzar surmised that the Lady of Cordoba may desire her own company, the reason for her coming out here all alone in the first place. He had fortunately already secured her friendship, it seemed, which was the best outcome for the interaction, accomplishing a goal that he had set out to do during this feast, and thought that pressing further may sour her of his presence. He had no doubts they would eventually cross paths once more, perhaps even with the shahbanu herself.

[abuzarbeg]

amiraofcordoba​:

“I should be delighted, if you would indulge me. Though I will not bombard you with questions now.” Her mind was already turning, though, as it often did - she knew bits and pieces, which prompted only more questions. Interest in the shah’s reign, in Persia’s culture, their approach to Islam. She wanted to know it all, as much as she could grasp, though that was a common feeling that the lady had always carried.

“I see. Yes- Cordoba has flowers like these, in parts of our land, although it depends. Some of Cordoba lays just beyond the borders of Portugal. Other parts across the Mediterranean sea, in Africa. Our lands are vast - something we take great pride in. It has a great range of climes, but - yes. The city of Cordoba itself is not so different from Portugal, in many respects. Your visit would doubtless be welcomed.” She paused a moment, and then looked at him, assuming him a man of honesty. “What do you make of it all? The festivities, I mean. It is quite a spectacle, in the name of peace. But it would seem even now there is some mistrust among the nations.”

Abuzar offered the Lady Amira a brief bow, an acknowledgment of her courtesy, though such was always the case. When one presents another an opportunity for questions unencumbered, without limits, the other tends to be overcome with so many questions, their lips find none sufficient enough to let go. 

The shahbanu's trusted advisor himself has experienced such a response, his body betraying his mind, and it was until years later that he found an acceptable excuse for such an act. Since then, he has learned to always hide a question or two under his sleeves, readied and only drawn upon invitation. It was his duty, after all, to his shahbanu, to Persia, to himself.

"Perhaps my betters may also partake in such hospitality? The shahbanu in particular, also a young woman of motherly curiosities, may be endeared to witness with her own eyes the beauty of the lands, and flowers, of Cordoba." He had little doubt that his queen and the Lady Amira would find each other's company suitable, considering they were both women of power, daughters and mothers of their respective nations. 

Abuzar took a step forward, eyes towards the horizon, a warm smile still upon his lips. When he addressed the Lady Amira, he made sure to be as polite as possible, if even friendlier than he could ever be. "I enjoy festivities, if truth be told, my lady, for to me, they reveal that even in times of duress, we can still find manner, or excuse, to come together and delight in the company of fellow men. Mistrust will always be present, I believe, even among newly made friends, but we owe it to them and ourselves to prove such doubts unfounded."

[abuzarbeg]

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓  𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊  𝐎𝐅  JULY 07  –  JULY 13.

CURRENT POINTS: 20

PARA REPLIES (ofcxterina​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (williamoflancaster​): 10 points. Link

overall points: 620

[abuzarbeg]

williamoflancaster​:

"Ah, thank you. I must endeavor to do a better job at remember these names, for I’m certain there is much that we could learn from each other, and not simply when it comes to stars and shatranj.” Look at that, he could be diplomatic as well, John. Perhaps it was easier to be blandly welcoming when he was focusing on something else such as a game instead of the person sitting across from him. It was a good tip to remember for the future.

“If I took umbrage to the concept, I would have made note of it when you first called me friend. At the time, I find no reason to take offense at the title and why should I? We’re all here to make friends, aren’t we?” What a naive statement. Of course they weren’t there only to make friends. It was also about showing off their power, about brokering marriage agreements and trying to make sure they were the strongest around - or at least secure against the strongest. They would be friendly, perhaps, but likely not friends until there was something to gain.

He hadn’t known the word Shahbanu and if asked to guess what it meant, he would have assumed it was a prince or princess since the queen piece on the board wasn’t known as a Shahbanu, but clearly he would have erred by assuming. “I can’t say I know anything of your Shahbanu, but I have no objection to meeting her. I think it would be a most interesting meeting.”

And better to meet with a Queen than a Princess, since he didn’t need to worry about anyone getting ideas to make friends with another country by marrying him off. It was likely an unfair consolation prize, but William was glad that Isabel had an unwed son that would carry more political weight in a marriage agreement.

“By all means, please arrange something between us.”

Learn from each other indeed. Abuzar Beg could only smile at the Earl's words. He bore no ill will towards him, not even a shadow of ill intentions, despite what some Europeans may believe of the strangeness and mystery, the dangers, that the Asian world brings to the table. Abuzar hoped that the Earl was different from the men his contacts had warned him about, though he had a feeling that any doubt on the matter would be unnecessary.

There was so much of the Western world that Abuzar wanted to learn, know, so that one day, he could use all of this information to strengthen his position, and more importantly, that of the Shahbanu Ghazala within the Timurid Dynasty. He wanted nothing more than to once again put her on a pedestal, her and her alone, as her blood and wit deserved. 

Outside of that, teaching those who betrayed them, chased them, exiled them from the Delhi Sultanate was a desire he knew he was still unprepared to fulfill. Perhaps the Europeans may help him with it. Perhaps the Earl himself could be the bridge they needed to correct the past, so that they may move forward unimpeded.

"Truer words were never spoken." He offered William a warm smile and a brief nod, acknowledging the wisdom he was showing. The more friends, the merrier, the stronger, the closer to keeping unspoken promises. Abuzar had no marriage agreements to broker, not at the moment, not without further consultation with his shahbanu and perhaps even the shah, but he better things to offer. His invaluable Chinese contacts, for one, had established his political acumen, himself as an important piece of the Persian puzzle.

"I will be honored to do so, my friend." Abuzar put an extra emphasis on the last two words, a playful smirk upon his lips. It had no other meaning aside from his own satisfaction that a simple game of shatranj had secured him the makings of another strong friendship. 

And now, he must do his part to further its strength. Carefully, gently, he opened his side of the board, his defeat primed and ready for the Earl to take. He had already won the victory he wanted, a victory for his duty, a victory that may soon be shared between their kingdoms. A loss, for the benefit of his new friend, would not be as great. He slowly gestured for the Earl of Lancaster to make his winning move, another nod and the same smile offered as well. Come and take this victory, my English friend.

[abuzarbeg]

ofcxterina​:

pulling her hands back from his arms, caterina nodded in quiet agreement. ‘we all need to remind others who we are every once in a while’. she repeated the words in her head, musing over them. they had struck a chord inside of her, somewhere deep, a primal part of her that had been painted over with layers of civility and manners. 

she’d spent a long time hiding who she was, covering up that young girl who had roamed free in the streets of florence, creating a new caricature over which to lay her likeness. “lest they forget. lest we forget.” reminding herself of who she was, the strength that she held both inside and outside, was of paramount importance. for all the posturing and ego that lay on her outside, on the inside was still the creeping thoughts of doubt, the whispered words of gossip she knew flew around the court’s mouths.

“i’d wager there are quite a few people who have suffered as much, if not more, than i have here at this event. but i thank you. it is the rare man who wants to lavish praise on a disgraced princess.” the words meant more to her than he could ever know. for years she’d struggled to find anyone that really understood the pain of a fall from grace, of a betrayal. to find at least one person who thought that she’d come out on top —  well, that was worth more than gold.

“you’re more than worthy of my attention. and i have much to learn from you.” shooting him a sly smile, she continued, “as you have, i’m sure, observed, i am not content to sit back and let my fate be decided by men. i strive to rise above, and help my dear florence.”

"And we must never forget who we truly are." Abuzar nodded with a smile, agreeing to the Lady Caterina's notion. It was a personal creed that the shahbanu's trusted advisor took to heart the most. 

Even if he did manage to build himself a new life back in Persia, he knew that most of the Timurids in power kept in the backs of their minds the fact that he was still an exile from the Delhi Sultanate. He had vouched for and counseled a sultana that was betrayed and chased away, a sultana that lost her rule, her kingdom, her people. Ghazala was more than that but few in her present company truly cared to know. To them, she was a mere upstart from another world, and he was her conniving pet whose value was tied to her life and the invaluable contacts he had made, the friendships he had carved out of curiosities and his own political acumen.

"Be that as it may, I do not wish to take to this princess a disgrace, and I hope that in time, she may take to my truths as more than lavish praise." Abuzar had already thought of his words appearing as mere flattery to her, though he could do little to rein them as anything else. 

When he first heard her story from a contact in commerce, Abuzar had already felt a strange familiarity with the former princess of France. When he was finally able to lay eyes on her, he saw what seemed to him a kindred spirit, another outside of his known world that suffered and survived more than they deserve. "You think too much of me, my lady..."

As if he didn't of her. Perhaps they were more alike, more kindred in spirit, than he thought. Perhaps she was the one he has been looking for, someone who could fill the void left by an opportunity he felt lost.

"But I am willing to teach, and perhaps learn from you as well. Allow my hand to guide you should it be needed. Persia may become a good friend to your dear Florence through me." 

Although the thought of him being a man, having a hand in her fate, as a contradiction to the lady's words did cross Abuzar's mind, he understood and was at peace with the notion that he would not be deciding anything of her. Far from it. Caterina would be the one to steer her own destiny wherever she wanted, as Ghazala had. His only role was to provide assistance and watch as another queen blossomed before his very eyes, a role he has grown quite fond of. Making a king was easy. A queen? That was an art form that required true skill.

[abuzarbeg]

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓  𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊  𝐎𝐅  JUNE 30  –  JULY 6.

CURRENT POINTS: 90

PARA REPLIES (williamoflancaster​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (ofcxterina​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (vasilyofbezukhov​​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (ofcxterina​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (williamoflancaster​​): 10 points. Link

MENTORSHIP BASED POINTS (yinjianjun​): 20 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (williamoflancaster​): 10 points. Link

PARA REPLIES (williamoflancaster​): 10 points. Link

OVERALL POINTS: 600

[abuzarbeg]

williamoflancaster​:

“Bold may often serve as a warming, animals with bright colors are often poisonous, but you may find yourself stepping on a camouflaged predator if you focus only on the dangers that you see.” William remarked, wondering if the man was so brave as to lead such an obvious hint as to his attack strategy. William wasn’t a stranger to diversions and he didn’t question for a moment that the man across from his was well accustomed to trickery.

Of course, William thought it wise to assume most strangers were capable of trickery.

Inclining his head, William accepted that statement and didn’t believe that the man was trying to dodge his question as he didn’t believe that people in Asia were hiding knowledge about something such as the sky from Europeans. No one knew everything, he wasn’t skilled in healing for example and admitting that didn’t mean he was keeping secrets about medicine, after all.

“Fair enough. It was a piece of gossip  hear from a source that I don’t recall. I’m not sure what else the stars have to offer us, but I do believe there is much we can learn from another and the sharing of knowledge between groups is important, don’t you think?” He asked, the words almost a test as Will reached out for a piece that he knew as the knight, using it to jump the sarbaz. “I don’t recall the name of this piece. Is it something like asp?”

Asb, not asp, and William knew it, but that wasn’t the point.

“What you don’t know of the stars, you make up for in patience when it comes to teaching your game to strangers. I used to travel frequently and miss discovering new treasures, but now I’m unsure if the King would spare me. My brother is more of the spokesman than I am, I confess, so it may be for the best.”

Abuzar nodded, finding himself quite impressed with the Earl of Lancaster's counterargument. It was true, and he believed the same, though he preferred to not point it out while he played the same. 

The shahbanu's trusted advisor took great care in his role as the camouflaged predator, even if he did not take to William as mere prey. It was more him using what he can to appear friendlier and less threatening, an intention born out of the usual and understandable human fear of the unknown. Men often feared what they could not understand, and Europeans and Asians barely understood one another with their distinct cultures and experiences. 

Abuzar sought to be the bridge between both worlds, if only to strengthen his influence back home and that of the shahbanu's herself.

"Perhaps it was not gossip but the truth, and I am simply of ill-information to advise on such matters. My shah is quite enamored of the moon and the stars, so it is highly likely that he would endeavor to gain more knowledge of such." 

Abuzar's dark eyes found themselves on William's own, a warm smile set upon his lips. He nodded once more, reminding the Earl of the piece's name, though it was inconsequential. Names were names, and the shahbanu's trusted advisor would dare not belittle such royalty for misnaming a piece. "It is called asb, my friend, the horse, what could be the knight in your chess."

"If I may be so bold, I would like to consider you a friend more than a stranger." 

Abuzar softly reached out for his cup of water with one hand, slowly and patiently bringing it close to his chest, held by both. He appreciated the Earl's compliments, though he thought little of it, if only because patience was no honor or prize. Patience, to the Delhi exile, was a tool he carved out of his own blood and bones to survive the betrayal of his people, her people, the traitors of the Delhi sultanate. 

"Perhaps the shahbanu would make for better conversation then? My queen appreciates a new friend, a visitor, every now and then, especially one such as the Earl of Lancaster."

[abuzarbeg]

williamoflancaster​:

“The set must have been quite beautiful. The chess sets I’ve played with are black and white, they’re not as bold as this.” William commented, fingers hovering over the pieces and yet not touching them until finally his hand descended on the sarbaz that was in front of his pil, sliding it across the board.

“It seems as though many interests gifts and forms of knowledge come from your Asia, I must extend my compliments for this one.” After all, chess, or shatranj in this case, was simply a game that didn’t cause any harm, but allowed the player to sharpen their mind. Many evening had passed with William bent over a game board with someone else and he lauded the experience, even if the matches themselves were frustrating at times.

Not all gifts were the same in their nature, not as harmless as a game. China invented the cannon and those had infiltrated English battles over a hundred years ago, although William had heard that its origins were supposedly peaceful. Leave it to man to find the dangerous applications of something.

“I heard that your country is even looking into learning about the moon and the stars. Have you discovered anything interesting?” He asked conversationally, not sure what there was to learn and yet not dismissing it entirely since William was certain there was a time when sailors hadn’t known they could navigate by the stars.

As calm as the still waters in his cup, Abuzar's own hand, scarred from his escape from the Delhi Sultanate, hovered directly over his pil, gently moving the piece two squares diagonally, jumping over the empty square between and landing right beside the brave sarbaz that was his earlier move. 

He moved his dark eyes slowly from the glazed stone-piece to meet the Earl's, a sly grin on his lips. "I find being bold has its place, often as a distraction, while the clear-cut black and white are more transparent, truthful."

Abuzar Beg's smile grew wider at William's compliment, simply nodding to acknowledge it. He's heard many variations from the Europeans of how interesting and even exotic Asia can be, though Persia was only a piece of a much bigger puzzle. Abuzar himself was less Persian than he was Indian, and though both were indeed of Asia, they had their own differences which he believed only a much keener eye would care to distinguish. Then again, for all the Earl's tutored wisdom and lessons meant to enlighten, experience would perhaps remain the much better teacher.

"Truth be told, my friend, I am not as well-acquainted with the moon and the stars as my shah. He would make for far better conversation on the matter." Abuzar tried his best to come off as apologetic and polite, though he truly did not consider matters regarding astronomy with as much importance as matters regarding diplomacy and commerce. 

While the shahbanu's most trusted advisor did indeed believe that the shah was more knowledgeable than him in matters of the moon and the stars, he also considered such matters not as impressive, and therefore, his own knowledge and importance were still far greater in comparison. "I'm afraid my mind dwells better in commerce and...friendship."

"Perhaps one day you may visit?" He extended the invite, keeping his eyes on him, unsure what the Earl actually thought of travel to a land far and foreign to his own.