Silence Broken (OPEN MT)

[Yohannes]

Foreign Office, Ardenfontein
Yohannes, Northeast Gholgoth

While the Gothic civil war, Osthia-Incursus conflict and the subsequent spending of foreign exchange reserve had initially been a drain upon the finite financial resources of the island nation in northeastern Gholgoth, some prominent Yohannesians profited tremendously from its development. The most notable of these was Sir Frederick de Beer, one of the nineteen Board Directors of VMK, as well as Sir Ernest Rosario Hemmingway, another Board Director of Royal Beaufort. Hemmingway, who was in his late 30s when the Gothic civil war erupted, has been described by inner circles of the Empress as one of Yohannes "most influential and dodgy trade figures of the present day."

An Ardenfontein born and bred gentleman, Hemmingway was knighted by Her Imperial Majesty Garnet til Alexandros during his tenure as the Colonial Office First Spokesperson, upon which his legacy was the successful decolonisation of Yohannes' widespread colonies throughout Adrastos, Gholgoth, Greater Dienstad, Minyang, Lucerna, and countless other innumerable regions. Though some government circles further credited the man as the one who prevented worldwide conflict between the Empire of Yohannes and the General Social Republic of Questers, the right timing of Yohannes' then decolonisation declaration was in fact largely accredited to Empress Garnet's father, King Aurel III.

A "charismatic and dashing" third-generation descendant of the 2nd Earl of Christchurch, Hemmingway accumulated his considerable government connection and network as well as monetary fortunes through the gamble he took by claiming a substantial credit as one of Yohannes' "champion of social liberalism" through the man's involvement in the foundation of the Yohannesian Society Nightwatch; an organisation protecting the right of non-white immigrants throughout the nineteen countries. This, and his concocted claim as the first and foremost inventor of the decolonisation movement in Yohannes brought him the support of the substantial centre as well as slight-left political-centric percentage of the population.

Hemmingway was not untypical of a specific type of influential men throughout the then Crown Commonwealth of Yohannes, and its successor state the Empire of Yohannes, who was prepared to take enormous risk to achieve their ultimate goals and aspiration, or perhaps ambition. In turn, they established the atmosphere upon which they, and their cronies flourished financially in the years to come. It was only a matter of time before men such as Hemmingway acquired honorary board directorate seats to Yohannes' largest big four corporations, which as of today include the above mentioned two arms manufacturing and shipbuilding companies, as well as the fledgling Yohannesische Bundesbank and Yohannesische Börse.

"The torch of the Doomani has returned."

When the sentence reverberated, ever so menacingly, all around the main hallway of Her Imperial Majesty's Foreign Office in the capital city of Ardenfontein, men of Hemmingway's class were naturally inclined to seize the initiative and claim the potentiality of commercial riches such a breakthrough would achieve, tremendously. In all practicality, the liberal wussies may fear the outcome of such a collaboration; such an irreparable damage toward the cause of justice, liberty and liberalism which commercial and trade connection with one of the most oppressive regimes in the world will inevitably brought upon the Empire.

Not men such as Sir Hemmingway, of course.

What could be gained spectacularly - money and reputation - was enough to bargain for, and within twenty-four hours of the Doomani official declaration, men such as Sir Hemmingway flocked their wings in unison, arriving upon the Foreign Office's floor, symbolical with the low tide of passage upon the high seas itself. And it would be that within hours of such a happening; one particular letter was declared by Her Imperial Majesty's Foreign Office pertinent to the Doomani's declaration.

Ardenfontein, Yohannes
Northeast Gholgoth

Associated representative
Government of Doomingsland

Dear Sir/Madam,

Extraordinary representatives and honoured plenipotentiaries of the Doomani government, the Empire of Yohannes has noted the declaration of your represented government upon its intention to, once again, join the innumerable ranks of the international community. Please allow me to introduce myself; my name is Julius Frej Shriver, and it is in my capacity as the Minister of Foreign Affairs of Her Imperial Majesty Garnet til Alexandros to represent the Empire of Yohannes, therein.

Thereunto lies the reasoning behind why this letter has reached your desk. As you may well have known, the Empire of Yohannes has maintained its course of foreign neutrality for more than thrice a generation. It is upon such a platform of common understanding and peaceful approach that the Empire of Yohannes has constructed the sufficient foundation which her commerce and trade required for the enrichment of her economy.

As of the present, the Empire of Yohannes is, alongside the General Social Republic of Questers, Empire of Automagfreek, Protectorate of Lyras, Second Empire of Anemos Major, and Free Republic of Lamoni; one of the world's major exporters and participants in armaments trade, shipbuilding and commercial shipping as well as electronic goods. Yohannesian creditors-issued monetary fund is currently widespread overseas, accountable for the foreign direct investments in over four hundred nations.

In recognition of Doomingsland's long period of isolation, I would like to offer my sincere and most humble invitation to your represented government to join our ranks. Only through the establishment of such an interconnected network of trade that not just Doomingsland and Yohannes, but also that of others which we as a community, desirable or not, shall mutually catapult and drive toward the enlightening path of prosperity in commerce.

It is with the above future possibility that I would like to humbly request the establishment of a diplomatic mission; in the form of an embassy representing the Empire of Yohannes within the national and territorial sovereignty of your represented government. Furthermore, I would like to offer your represented government, which hold a rather distinguished record and institutional expertise in the field of land warfare, to assist the Empire of Yohannes in her quest to increase the institutional efficiency as well as framework of her land service branch; that of the Commonwealth Army.

I and my represented government await the official respondance of your represented government.

Sincerely,

The Rt Hon. Julius Frej Shriver
Minister of Foreign Affairs

[OOC: Edited 1 time]

[Vhammpyr]

"I am afraid my Master will not allow those whose eyes he deems..." he paused for a moment, glancing back at Sybele's honor guard, "Unworthy, to gaze upon Him. Rest assured, Your Majesty, you shall treat with him this day. But first, as is our custom, a feast in your honor."

The queen and her entourage passed by the Doomani honor guard without incident. The faceless soldiers stood there, unmoving, even as the Wolven scanned them in an anticipation of an attack. Their heightened senses would reveal to them that the men that stood before them were just that- men. Yet something about their scent was slightly, peculiarly off. Nobody could quite put their finger on it, yet there it was all the same. Perhaps they would discover the reason, though it was more likely to remain a mystery. After an uneasy journey down the black path, the group strode up the steps of the keep and through its entrance, which stood some thirty feet high and was wide enough for twelve men to walk abreast.

Before them stood a hall great and vast, carved from the same strange material the tower itself was; it extended back impossibly far. The vaulted ceiling was reminiscent of a mighty cathedral, with images of heavenly warfare carved into its very stone and studded with gold, silver, and all manner of precious jewels. At the far end of the hall stood an enormous carving depicting an innumerable armed host knelt in homage before a mighty golden figure with the silver wings, who stood upon a hill before a bleeding sky. Like the honor guard and like the statues that stood watch outside, the being had no face, though rather than a silver shield in its place was a burning red radiance whose origin could not be determined. It was visibly taller than the people depicted in the carving, standing as tall as five men. This being wielded a massive double bladed battle axe; blood dripped from its silver blade, pooling at the being's feet. Before the party lay a clear path edged in gold. As with outside, the side of the path was lined with both soldiers and statues; these statues were identical to the ones perched upon the columns, though in this case they stood on marble pedestals.

As the group continued on, they reached the center of the hall. There was a large circle, sunk slightly into the ground and surrounded by steps, that one could enter it from any direction. Their mysterious host beckoned the group to step down into the circle. When the last man had stepped on, the ground itself seemed to move; the circle lurched upwards towards the ceiling, and the whole group was carried ever higher. Above them a hole just large enough to accommodate the elevator slid open. Finally, the elevator slid through the precipice, coming to a stop. The group now found itself in a massive, circular room; windows fifty feet high lined the walls, allowing in the ambient light from outside. From the ceiling hung nine enormous braziers from which great fires burned in a large circle, further illuminating the room. Half a dozen long marble tables were laid out in the room; these were set upon platforms of varying height, with the most prominent table at the center. At the center of that table was a throne of sorts, a high backed golden chair with plush red cushions. From out of the shadows at the edge of the chamber stepped a hundred silent figures clad in white silken robes; comely young women all, with raven hair and pale blue eyes. These converged in lock step towards the group, and they beckoned the members of the group towards different tables, each according to his rank.

Queen Sybele herself was lead by their host to the most prominent table and seated upon the throne; her highest advisers were seated beside her, though the bald man in blue robes took a seat at her left hand. Before the guests, the dishes, chalices and silverware had already been laid out. Queen Sybele's own set of silverware, dishes, and her chalice differed from the others in that hers were made of gold and not silver.

He clapped his hands, and out from the shadows stepped a hundred more serving wenches: these bore great plates of all manner of roasted meats and breads, which were placed upon the tables. Chalices were filled with fine wine, though Queen Sybele and the vampyrs in her entourage were offered blood as well. The bald one raised his own chalice,

"In my Master's Name, I offer this feast in honor of Sybele, Queen of Vammpyr!"

Sybele fixed her gaze upon the little man, serpent eyes unblinking, scarlet nails slowly tap, tap, tapping on the marble table. She casually reached over and grabbed one of the blue-eyed slaves, pulling her towards herself and ever so lightly brushed her lips along the woman's wrist.

The servant winced as Sybele's incisors slit her veins, the shallow cuts barely oozing a few drops of blood. The Queen dipped a nail into it, and, tasting, smiled. "Hmmmm, cinnamon and bergamot, with a hint of rose. Delightful." She pushed aside the proffered cups of blood and asked, "Would it be possible for this woman to be my...companion...for the duration of my stay here?"

Her Wolven guards, salivating heavily, could barely restrain themselves. The roasted meats were acceptable, but what they craved was freshly-killed flesh, the memory of life still resident within.

The Vhammpyric Nobles sat impassive, still sizing up the innumerable Doomani statue-guards. But they, too, were feeling the pangs of the old, familiar hunger. Contrary to popular myth, vampyrs didn't need to feed daily. About once every six-to-eight weeks was adequate, although a snack every now and then was not unusual.

Again, Sybele smiled. "Oh, but I forget my manners. I want to thank you, little man, for your and your Master's sublime courtesy. Sybele does not forget a good deed done for her."

As she spoke, she held on to the servant's wrist..........

[Doomingsland]

Vhammpyran Delegation

"You certainly may, Your Majesty," he replied with a smile.

The poor servant girl appeared, surprisingly, totally unfazed. Were one to gaze into her eyes one would see nothing but emptiness; it was as if she were virtually an automaton. Glancing over towards the ravenous Wolven, he continued to speak with the same pleasant smile and diplomatic tone,

"Though I would suggest, Your Majesty, that you see that your beasts are kept on a leash most short. My Master loves His daughters dearly, and I fear great wrath were harm to come to them."

The feast continued on for nine courses; when it had finished out marched an army of scantily clad dancer girls. Sybele's host, however, stood, and bade the queen follow him.

"My Master would have words with you now, Your Majesty."

----------

The Yohannesians received the same cryptic response as the others: COME.

----------

Ambassador Kareya, like the others, was met by a bald, slender, black-eyed man in blue robes and an entourage of faceless soldiers. "Esteemed representative of Tehraan, on behalf of my Lord and Master I welcome you to Doomingsland. On His behalf I thank you for accepting His invitation. Please, I bid you follow me, that you may accept my Lord's hospitality. If you have any questions, I would be honored to answer."

[Vhammpyr]

The Queen of Vhammpyr and Aeternu wiped the corners of her mouth daintily and stood as her Wolven commander pulled back her chair. Turning to him, she said, "Praetorian Lucius, make it clear to your people that there is to be no harm done to any in this room. We are here as the esteemed guests of the King of Doomingsland. Understood?" The great beast bowed in silence, his long, greyish-brown fur sweeping the floor. As he straightened, he asked, "Until there is danger, M'lady?"

Sybele looked him in the eye. "You have your orders, Commander." The telepathic link to her Wolven troops settled their concerns. Facing Baron Neriis of the Vhammpyrian province of Sakuntala, she said, "M'lord Baron, you, Baron Eltaab, and Count Reyor will accompany me to the Master of this place. Once in his presence, you will step back twenty paces."

Neriis nodded, his filthy, matted hair covering his horror of a face. "As you wish, Majesty." A small smile pulled at the corners of his slit of a mouth.

"I am ready, O most gracious host. But before we proceed, I must have your name."

[Tehraan]

Kareya was slightly disturbed by the bizarre visage of the Doomani. He didn’t presume these people would be anything but ordinary, but this was something else entirely. There was something off about them, as if they were less than human and it made Kareya uncomfortable as he watched them black eyed creature interact with him. Despite his best efforts to suppress any prejudice to something that reminded him of stories about demons and evil spirits that presumable lurked among mankind. He kept his demeanour as unfazed as possible regardless of the circumstances.

“Greetings, I’m Ambassador Kareya Nikam, I represent the Hegemonic Union, we come in peace bearing no ill desire or thought and are humbled by your welcome of us into your land.” He spoke in his best English, a phrase that was recited more than often in his own language when invited into the home of a stranger. Which naturally was carried over into diplomatic speech when Tehraan became a modern nation.

With the end of his sentence the whole delegation made a costumed bow to their hosts, but nobody else but the ambassador said anything at all, they remained as stoically silent as they could. But although Kareya could easily asked hundreds of questions that coursed through his head to the little man, he choose to stay silent unless spoken too for the duration of the welcome and as a result they simply followed the directions of the Doomani host.

[Doomingsland]

Vhammpyran Delegation

"I am the Voice, Your Majesty," he replied, bowing dramatically.

The group continued towards the rear of the dining chamber where a pair of high bronze doors stood; these were cast open, revealing a vast gilded corridor with high arched ceilings, wide enough for twenty to march abreast. A crimson carpet was laid out down a black marble floor; carved into the walls of the corridor were more faceless sentinels, and in front of these stood live soldiers armed with ten-foot tall glaives. Unlike the honor guard that had met them outside, these men were clad in silver-trimmed golden plate armor. Though at first glance they appeared identical, upon closer inspection one could see that each man's armor was personalized: one man had a scorpion emblazoned in rubies upon his chestplate, whilst another had the unfurled wings of an eagle in silver and bronze with chromed skulls on his knees. They were tall, as well, for humans: not one of them was shorter than seven foot.

The corridor ended in a depressed circle, much like the one they had found in the greeting chamber: an elevator. This one, however, was much smaller: at its center was a golden sun, and this was surrounded by inlaid silver symbols written in an alphabet and language as yet unknown.

The Voice turned to the party,

"Her Majesty must continue on alone from this point."

He beckoned her towards the elevator...

------

Like the other parties that had been welcomed, the Tehraani delegation proceeded down the long entrance hall to an enormous elevator, which took the whole group up to the dining chamber. As before, members of the delegation were seated according to station; as before, out marched the serving wenches, and the feast began in earnest.

"If you have any questions, Ambassador, I would be happy to answer them," the man, seated to the Ambassador's right at the head table, spoke.

[Vakolic]

[[ooc:I'm late! Why am I always late to rps...]]

Vakol 1: a magestic homage to technology and vakolicci power.
Glowing, its transmitters and receivers broadcasting and receiving signals: counter-intelligence and communication, espionage and as a hub for the thousands of its lesser spacebourn brethrin.

But now, the oddest signal for a long time had been received by the great spacecraft: telling the vakolicci haven to come to an unknown mountain in a region formerly known as doomingsland.

Doomingsland: a vast expanse of barren, rocky desert...not the slightest signs of life had been seen from the desolate country, as the world slowly forgot about the former international menace that had been doomingsland.

The vakolicci and doomani had never had any significant relations, for good or for ill. They had simply ignored each other until one day, the doomani just went dead.

But now, as they said so clearly, and, as many vakolicci were complaining to the Della Barecci family who provided most of the tv servvice, were interupting peaktime tv.

But, in the council of the 400 houses, the high institution that decided all of the havens affairs, was mainly of anticipation.

"We, are now at the forefront of international affairs. The haven is making allies left right and centre, and our military is as sharp as a knifeedge."
As Ronan O'clane spoke, he revelled in the applause and cheers of his fellow vakolicci.
"And now, the message from doomingsland. As a great power re-emerges, we are invited to join them at the time of re-emerges."

The haven was a very well-ordered nation. It's people obeyed the president, and the presidents house, without question, but still democracies great movements roared around him to atempt to replace him.

But, while he was in power, he ruled supreme. But doomingsland had managed to get behind all of Ronan O'clane's mental defences, he was yearning to go to doomingsland...to see what this newly emerged shadow of a great power could offer the haven and it's people.

As he heard the comments of his advisers, he silenced them with a wave of his hand and told his personal slave, Jana De Luraxien to send to doomingsland a proclamation "The haven has heard you. We are comming."

[u]3 hours later[/i]

The 2 jets, painted with the great ship of the haven approached the monstrosity of brazen mountain...its fortress-like structure doing nothing to change Ronan O'clane's cinicalism. As the 2 jets circled the mountain, Ronan knew what they had to do..."Set us down," he told the pilots.

12 minutes later
The 16 figures walked slowly from the small aircraft: 2 8-foot tall giants of men, Ronan O'clane and Xantriel Della Barecci. The 2 high men of the council, there golden crowns shining in the light of the moon.

Behind them strode 14 men: slight but obviously powerful. They carried there weapon of favour: the vkl-919 machine gun. And, if the doomani made any threat towards their masters, they would feel their xenophobic pain.

[Harkonna]

The command deck of Harkonnan Orbital Command Station "Pelops," or, if one preferred to go by numerical designations, "HOCS-T-A," had been a bustle of fervent activity since the first 'pulse' of incredibly strong radio waves bombarded the vast sattelite array. The huge influx of raw, redundant data from an entire sector of the massive string of sattelites that comprised PHASE I of the array itself had temporarily overwhelmed the on-board systems, before the computers quickly assessed the aforementioned redundancy, and gave a swift order to all sattelites receiving the transmission to cease transmitting non-unique data to their parent stations. Regardless, the incident had certainly left a considerable impression on the various command staff aboard the station- enough to warrant an emergency communique back down planetside, to the HNID [Harkonnan National Intelligence Division], and the HMHC [Harkonnan Military High Command].

Faint whispers from the past of a "Doomingsland," filled with fear, and unabashed terror, warranted an immediate investigation, to see what intelligence on the nation could be dug up from external sources, and indeed, from Doomingsland itself if they could manage it. Nothing so crude as an incursion, or expedition. No. Instead, HNID agents began to lean on foreign historians, pressing them for whatever intelligence they could offer on these "Doomani." It seemed a pithy name, but from what they could glean, they had been a rather fearsome and hateful empire, on the level of the infamous Krayven Corporation- perhaps even exceeding it, in terms of the potent misogyny, and blind, yet focused religious dogmatism. Such an emerging threat, quiet for so long, would be a most troublesome thing. It would pay to take every opportunity available to prepare to react in whatever fashion necessary to such a violent empire's emergence ...

While HNID agents continued to press on whatever contacts they had, still willing to talk, or pillage databases and libraries alike for information on Doomani military tactics, social structure, and similar articles, the Tantalus array, too, had set to work analyzing what it could of the nation itself. Advanced optics, thermal sensors, and top of the line radar, and LADAR systems scoured the surface of Doomani, attempting to cut through to smog with their prying 'eyes,' peering through holes to catch glimpses of a facetless, bleak industrial landscape. From what they could glean, the entirety of the nation was a massive military factory complex, bristling with fortifications- covered in shifting sands and great drifting clouds of death and soot. It was a fearsome sight, but unsurprising. When a nation like this 'disappeared,' it was rarely into a forgotten stupor ...

Harkonnan Officials had to admire the feats of engineering, and dedication it must have taken to systematically eradicate the environment, whatever there was within the desolate nation even before this conversion. It was not unlike Harkonna itself, readily bristling with checkpoints and fortifications, both governmental and private- covering the landscape like some curious fungus. In Harkonna's case however, the fortifications and cities did not eradicate the environment, but rather seemed to integrate themselves within it. But that, was another matter entirely.

While this was transpiring, the Harkonnan Supreme Commander, one Sahreah Natalie Callahan, and the Parliament itself, comprised of Military and Corporate Commanders and CEOs of the most successful caliber- had been called into an emergency session, regarding a proposed reaction to the transmission. A conclusion was made swiftly. They would respond of course, and press Harkonna into a state of readiness. With a nation like this, it was not whether or not they would inevitably seek to crush others under their heel, but rather ... When. It would be foolish to not better assess the situation from the ... Ground up.

---

CLASS EIGHT (OF TEN) RADIO BROADCAST, STANDARD COMMUNIQUE PATTERN, TO DOOMINGSLAND.
PROJECTED FROM THE TANTALUS ARRAY BY EXPRESS ORDER OF SAHREAH NATALIE CALLAHAN, DESPITE FREQUENCY INTENSITY WARNINGS.

"Harkonna has heard the first of your news. We wish to parlay."

[Vhammpyr]

Vhammpyran Delegation

"I am the Voice, Your Majesty," he replied, bowing dramatically.

The group continued towards the rear of the dining chamber where a pair of high bronze doors stood; these were cast open, revealing a vast gilded corridor with high arched ceilings, wide enough for twenty to march abreast. A crimson carpet was laid out down a black marble floor; carved into the walls of the corridor were more faceless sentinels, and in front of these stood live soldiers armed with ten-foot tall glaives. Unlike the honor guard that had met them outside, these men were clad in silver-trimmed golden plate armor. Though at first glance they appeared identical, upon closer inspection one could see that each man's armor was personalized: one man had a scorpion emblazoned in rubies upon his chestplate, whilst another had the unfurled wings of an eagle in silver and bronze with chromed skulls on his knees. They were tall, as well, for humans: not one of them was shorter than seven foot.

The corridor ended in a depressed circle, much like the one they had found in the greeting chamber: an elevator. This one, however, was much smaller: at its center was a golden sun, and this was surrounded by inlaid silver symbols written in an alphabet and language as yet unknown.

The Voice turned to the party,

"Her Majesty must continue on alone from this point."

He beckoned her towards the elevator...

------

Like the other parties that had been welcomed, the Tehraani delegation proceeded down the long entrance hall to an enormous elevator, which took the whole group up to the dining chamber. As before, members of the delegation were seated according to station; as before, out marched the serving wenches, and the feast began in earnest.

"If you have any questions, Ambassador, I would be happy to answer them," the man, seated to the Ambassador's right at the head table, spoke.

Queen Sybele nodded, apparently satisfied by the answer given her by the Voice. She glanced at her nobles for a second and then in silence stepped into the elevator that would take her to the Doomani Master. She had questions, to be sure, but she was far more interested in the Master's thoughts concerning the resurgence of Doomingsland. What and why were at the top of her list. She was wondering what his list contained...........

[Doomingsland]

The elevator gently lurched upwards, and then shot up into the ceiling; it was moving for quite some time, and Sybele could feel her ears pop as it gained more altitude. She was being taken to the very top of the keep. When it finally reached the apex, Sybele found herself in yet another massive chamber. This one was quite different from the others; wide, uncluttered, and most strangely there didn't appear to be any walls, though there was a ceiling. Or rather, there appeared to be nothing between her and the outside, though it certainly felt climate controlled. In every direction were the mountains; the sun was now setting amidst this backdrop, creating a sight that was both beautiful and caused the ambient light within the chamber to be slightly sinister. The floors of the chamber were polished black marble, and like the others the ceiling was vaulted, though it did not contain any of the ornate carvings seen elsewhere. Despite being the proverbial holiest of holies, the Master's Chamber was surprisingly spartan.

She had stood there for perhaps ten seconds, taking in her surroundings and looking for her absent host. Some thirty feet away, towards the side of the room that looked over the edge of the mountain, the floor appeared to move; a piece of it lifted up, and with it a plush seat, forming a table of sorts.

Then without warning, a voice sounded; it sounded like a thousand voices calling out at once, and it called to her:

PLEASE, COME SIT.

She approached the table, wondering where the voice had come from; as she drew nearer, she could see that the walls of the room were in fact glass. Strangely though the glass seemed to be moving as if it were a liquid; it was barely perceivable at first, but as she sat down the likeness of a face appeared upon the glass. It was not a projection; the glass itself moved to form a nose, then two empty eye sockets, and then a mouth, chin, and cheeks. The light of the fading sun filled it, radiating out from its eye sockets, and it seemed to glow. It was the face of a man, and not unpleasant to look on: high cheekbones, a strong chin; it could have been an ancient artist's depiction of a god. Its lips moved as if to speak, and then the voice that sounded like a thousand voices sounded:

WELCOME, SYBELE, QUEEN OF VHAMMPYR. WELCOME TO MY HOME.

--------

A message was received by the Harkonnans: COME.

--------

As with the other parties, the Vakolicci delegation found themselves before a black tower on a white field. The doors were cast open, and out marched the honor guard, and after them their host, who looked remarkably like the Voice and the other blue-robed, bald men with black eyes.

"Esteemed representative of Vakolic, on behalf of my Lord and Master I welcome you to Doomingsland. On His behalf I thank you for accepting His invitation. Please, I bid you follow me, that you may accept my Lord's hospitality. If you have any questions, I would be honored to answer."

[Vakolic]

"Yes, I do happen to have a question," Ronan said in his thick northen vakolicci (OOC: think rl scottish) accent.
"~We've travelled halfway across haven, in a jet that I've had to buy, learn to pilot in 30 minutes and get here. Why can't your 'lord and master,' whoever he may be, have the decensy to come out and greet us himself."

A vissible glare came into Xantriel's eyes as he heard Ronan's awkward, possibly alliance-hurting, uneconomical question. Added to the fact that it would be better for himself if Ronan died a very horrible death, he just wanted to get out of the cold.
"Of course, we would be glad to meet the ruler of Doomingsland, and enjoy his hospitality. However, I, also am entrigued as to whom this man may be."

Practically dragging Ronan with his eyes, xantriel and the soldiers followed the honour guard and the blue-robed man into the tower.

[Harkonna]

Upon receiving the transmission, it would be almost an insult to say that the Harkonnan reaction was swift. No, it was instantaneous. Aboard Pelops, and her primary depot, a full battalion of Harkonnan Shock troops was mobilizing, as was the bulk of the Pelop's spatial combat wing. The Supreme Commander of the Federation was being risked here, after all. And it would do nicely to have their arrival be in force. When it came to nations this militaristic, it paid to speak in languages that both parties could understand. Here, it would seem that the most common, poignant message would be Harkonna's sheer military strength.

Mobilization of a shock battalion was an incredible sight, to say the least. Rows of Assault Dropships released their docking clamps, and maneuvered elegantly away from orbital depot, followed by their Heavy Gunship counterparts, spiraling swiftly down, locking their navi-computers on target for Doomingland. Orbital Comms were alive with chatter, as the craft's undersides glowed a faint orange. The heat shields of the troop transports, and weapons platforms were more than enough to protect the crew from being roasted alive- but the g-forces were still having an unmitigated effect on the troops. Thankfully, most of the descent process was automated, making the task much less arduous that it might have been otherwise.

Far behind the landing craft, sleek orbital/atmospheric fighters, and tactical bombers sped earthwards, their descent slowly curving and decreasing in speed as they hurtled towards Doomingsland, flying low, and audaciously raking across half the country at high speed, before peeling around to passively enter formation around the airfield, doggedly prowling the airspace around it for potential threats.

Already, the HNID was poring over the telemetry the combat aircraft had gathered, piecing together the beginnings of an image composite of the region. Irrespective of these goings on, the landing craft continued their descent, having now been given the 'all clear' by the advance aircraft. From the ground, it looked as if a shower of meteorites was streaking towards the airstrip, but, it would soon be quite apparent that the still half-glowing craft were anything but. They landed with extreme precision, in several organized lines across the strip. The large folding hatches- great slabs of heat shielded, ablative armour, slowly raised up- revealing the ranks of approximately a thousand soldiers. They stepped out in unison, a great stomp as they wheeled about and came to attention. The rows of faceless, heavily armed and armoured troops was fearsome, only made moreso as several light tactical 'Mechs were dropped casually onto the tarmac by hovering heavy gunships overhead. These too seemed to stiffen, and come to a rigid attention.

The lead gunship settled down in front of this array of military power, the rear hatch opening to reveal a cadre of officers, clearly commanders, by their markings, and the supreme commander herself, Sahreah Natalie Callahan, of Harkonna. As soon as she set foot on the asphalt, the ranks of troops immediately snapped a rifle salute- a great cacophony of movement in unison rippling across the area. 

The supreme commander herself, as well as her commanders, looked no different from the soldiers themselves, apart from the advanced communication suites built into their armour, and the clearly heavier make of the carapaces. Their faces, too, were masked by eyeless, faceless alloy helmets. Even without their armour, it was clear that not a single one of them was under 6'5". The supreme commander herself was an imposing 6'9", her aides ranging from 6'7" to 6'11". It was very obvious that Harkonna had some sort of genetic enhancement program in place. Though, the extent of these alterations were completely unknown at this point. No one had managed to capture anything but a bunch of fried circuits, corpses incinerated inside the slagged suits, from Harkonnan battlefield casualties.

Callahan spoke fiercely, her voice harsh, and grating through the modulator of the helmet.

"We have arrived."

[Yohannes]

The Yohannesians received the same cryptic response as the others: COME.

Though a deep feeling of suspicion and anxiety linger within the mind of the designated Yohannesian ambassador-candidate through the long flight from Gholgoth to the nation of Doomingsland in the region of Haven, Dr Alfred Sonorous has readied himself for the worst which would happen following his arrival. It was of no doubt that the notorious historical record which successive past governments of Doomingsland have imprinted upon the chapters of past precedence has placed the nation high on the list of the most dangerous nations to visit in Yohannes. Surely, the many stories of travesty and horror whispered by the few who have escaped the nation's cage have all concluded upon the fact that the dark, abyssal legend of the Doomani was not simply a myth.

It was the fact.

All verifiable evidence - such as Doomingsland's past, long struggles with its neighbour the historical Commonwealth and Empire of Questers - points to Doomingsland to be taken seriously. It seems most likely that, matching the pattern which its past governments have made elsewhere - the life of the chosen representative of Her Majesty's Government would be at risk. The probability of harmful consequences cannot be understated. It was, of course, one of the most notable factor behind Dr Sonorous' horror when the father of two young daughters discovered that he was chosen - out of all the other two hundred and fifty-three candidates - as the ambassadorial representative of the Empire to Doomingsland.

Thanks to the well-preserved tradition of accepting one's nomination by Her Majesty the Empress - rejection of an appointment has always been regarded as a dishonourable deed - Dr Sonorous was forced to accept the nomination. Thus, it was on that cloudy day that he sat brooding of his fate; though it was without question that his primary task, and of course, worry, was the slim chance that Her Majesty's proposal of commerce and trade would be considered as acceptable by the corresponding governmental representative of Doomingsland.

What seemed like an eternity was in fact only a flight of two days. And it was with such a heavy heart that he made his way towards the exit door.

"Remember... I am a representative of the Crown... it is not fathomable that I shall be harmed, even by the likes of the Dumanis, surely...?"

The designated proposed ambassador looked around, and it came as a slight surprise to him that the place was fully deserted; not a single trace of civilisation - in the proper way a Yohannesian would have think of - can be seen all around him.

Dr Sonorous stood there, awaiting the arrival of Doomingsland's representative.

[Vhammpyr]

Sybele stared impassively for a second or two at this......Master......then sat in the offered seat. Saying nothing, she reached into a sleeve of her gown and pulled forth a vial which she dabbed here and there on her neck and wrists. Replacing the vial she sat back, at her ease, and crossed her legs.

"M'lord Master of Doomingsland. How gracious of you to bring me into your presence. I have seen much over the centuries. Palaces great and mighty, nations of glittering cities and great armies, kings, queens, potentates, emirs, and the like. But I think that I am most impressed with the Doomani understated sense of unmitigated power and might. Your technology is apparently far ahead of any other nations' I've yet encountered." She fell silent for an instant, then continued.

"Foremost in my mind is what, if anything, we can do for each other. Quite honestly, Vhammpyr and Aeternu have ...technology...very different from Doomingsland. What most of the barbarous world's countries call "magic". Ours are nations steeped in the ancient lore of the Sorceror-Priests of Set, the Warrior-Kings of old Acheron, the vampyric bloodlines of aeons past. We move in between the worlds seen and unseen. Yes, we have our machines, mostly military in nature. Every now and again we need to move against those idiotic nations who think to best us with their paltry and inferior cultures." She halted, smiling, incisors gleaming.

"But, forgive me. I digress. Doomingsland gives the impression of being invincible. I like that in a country. And it is within that mode of reference that I propose an alliance of some sort, a tying of our respective nations together on a level of mutual reciprocity."

Again, that enigmatic smile. "What's mine is yours, Master of Doomingsland. What say you?"

[United Nations Alliance (Ancient)]

All across the UNA radio and communications systems went offline and the Doomingsland message was heard by everyone. Some people started to freak out and thought it was the end of the world, the military was investigating how highly encrypted military and government communications equipment could be compramised like this. An order went out to all communications relays and the main communications HQ to start triangulating the transmition and to see to finding out how this breach happened.

--------
UNA Communications HQ, 5 minutes after the transmition was recieved

"Re-triangulate the transmition!"

"But sir, we've retirangulated it 5 times since we recieved it, it keeps coming back to the same location"

"I don't care! It can't be possible, Doomingsland is a myth, and legend! And if it isn't it should be uninhabitable if the stories remain true!"

"Fine, retirangulating yest again...and suprise suprise it came back as-"

"Doomingsland, damn it...okay alert the Counsel, they need to hear this"

"Which one?"

"All of them, it is of concern for them all I believe"

"Rojer that sir"

------
UNA communications HQ, 30 minutes after the Military Counsel was alerted

Imperial Fleet Admiral Wolf Xalian and Republic Fleet Admiral Kalnas Astradi both walked into the Communications HQ after they recieved the alert. "Comms Specialist Ryan, report!" Wolf said. "Sir, at 1700 hours we recieved a transmition from Doomingsland, after retirangulating it 6 times we are sure that we have the correct location" the Comms Specialist, and head of the Communications HQ, said. "Play back the message" Kalnas said, both her and Wolf showed no emotions regarding this news.

"WE ARE RETURNED. LET THOSE WHO WOULD TREAT WITH US COME FORTH TO THE MOUNTAIN OF THE VOICE, THAT THEY MAY HEAR THE GLORIOUS NEWS."

Wolf looked at his counterpart. "Any thoughts?" he asked. "A lot, and none that you haven't had regarding this I am sure" she replied. They both looked at Ryan. "Get satalite images of the location, I want to see what is going on down there" Wolf said. After 10 minutes the images appeared on the big screen. "Satalite controller, zoom in on 02.03.09" Wolf said. The satalite image zoomed in and they saw it, aircraft that where clearly of another nation, as well as people moving around. "Seems other nations recieved the message too" Kalnas said. Wolf nodded and sat at the nearest communications terminal and sent an ecrypted message to Doomingsland

------

To: Doomingsland
From: United Nations Alliance
Subject: Message recieved and understood
Encryption: National or Military leaders eyes only

To whom this may concern,

You message has caused some what of a problem with our communications, being that for a few minutes we lost all communications when your trnasmition came through. After a few minutes of triangulating and checking satalite images of the location we ahve decided to pay you a visit. The Emperor and Prime Minister wont be visiting, instead we shall be sending our nilitary leaders to treat with you. Expect our visit in the next few hours.

[Doomingsland]

Vakolicci Delegation

The host simply smiled in response to the two strange foreigners. "Ah, my Master is far more than a man, as you will see for yourselves soon enough. Come, a feast has been prepared in your honor..."

-------

Harkonan Delegation


As with the other parties, the Harkonan delegation found themselves before a black tower on a white field. The doors were cast open, and out marched the honor guard, and after them their host, who looked remarkably like the Voice and the other blue-robed, bald men with black eyes.

"Esteemed representative of Harkona, on behalf of my Lord and Master I welcome you to Doomingsland. On His behalf I thank you for accepting His invitation. Please, I bid you follow me, that you may accept my Lord's hospitality. If you have any questions, I would be honored to answer."

Oddly, he made no comment on the extremely well armed entourage accompanying Callahan. Nobody seemed particularly fazed by this. He paused for a moment, "Although I would ask that you leave your...machines outside," he gestured towards the war mechs, "wouldn't want to scratch the floors, after all."

------

Yohannesian Delegation

Ambassador Dr. Sonorous found himself on a mountain adjacent the Harkonans, with identical construction. The greeting he received was no different; a slender, black-eyed, blue-robed man offering the hospitality of his mysterious master and a battalion of faceless soldiers as an honor guard. He recieved the same tagline everyone else had:


"Esteemed representative of Yohannes, on behalf of my Lord and Master I welcome you to Doomingsland. On His behalf I thank you for accepting His invitation. Please, I bid you follow me, that you may accept my Lord's hospitality. If you have any questions, I would be honored to answer."

------

The UNA received a response shortly after sending their own transmission: COME.

------

Vhammpyran Delegation

The glass face seemed to contort as it pondered a response; finally it settled, a wolfish grin coming across its lips.

"Queen Sybele. You come to my home with an offer of your friendship; my friendship and that of my children I give to you gladly, and with it the Glorious News," the thousand voices said.

It paused for a moment, the face contorting further, yet returning to the same wolfish grin; its voice now sounded with ten thousand voices, all of them enraptured in an unearthly ecstasy.

"The Final War is upon us! War for a thousand years! And with it Oblivion! Rejoice, Dear Sybele, for you now count its Heralds among your allies and shall have a most prominent place in the Eternal Kingdom!

"At my bidding, my children have prepared for the War that will End All and bring all under the Domain of Heaven. An Age of Strife followed by Eternal Peace.

"This is why my children and my Kingdom have remained silent for two centuries, for this is the sole duty of the Doomani, my Chosen."

The voice shifted, the grin disappearing; it sounded more calm, more measured, yet it still sounded with a thousand screaming voices.

"Fear not, Dear Sybele, for I shan't seek to do harm unto the Old Gods whom you serve, for in the Eternal Kingdom they shall sit as my own blood brothers.

"This Divine Word I reveal to you with my own lips."

[United Nations Alliance (Ancient)]

The UNA jets approach the landing strip they had been sent to. As they came in to land Fleet Admiral Wolf Xalian and Fleet Admiral Kalnas Astradi stood up and, when the jet landed, they stepped out. "I wonder how long this place has been habitable?" one of the fighter pilots asked. "Was it even uninhabitable? Remember the stories where always myths and legends...maybe b eing uninhabitable was part of it" Wolf said.

[Vakolic]

"Jaerne (ooc: vakolicci translation: yes), more than a man, eh? OK, I'm prepared to believe you for a while, because my stomach is telling me that it would be wise," Ronan said.
He did not like the look of this situation and he was not prepared to accept it all at such short notice. Yes, he'd go along with this madman, but it all seemed a little too convenient to him, a feast in there honour? They'd only arrived 20 minutes ago.
And his 'master' seemed very disrespectful.
Yes, he was prepared to have the doomani lead the way, but if anything happened to him then the world would know about it.

[Harkonna]

Along with Callahan, there were four other Commanders, each seemed to have their armour tweaked every so slightly (or considerably) to fit what one would assume was their combat preferences. In fact, if one looked closely, they could see that although there was a common theme among the troops, each and every one seemed curiously unique, their armour and armament precisely gear to their capacities and battlefield role. Even the weapons seemed to have been cobbled together out of modular pieces of varying manufacture- all designed to work easily with each other. "Standard Issue" seemed to be more of an abstract concept rather than the rule among Harkonnan forces. Even the tactical 'Mechs were customized to a considerable degree, some sporting heavier armour and anti-armour weaponry, or other with a more pacification-geared setup.

Callahan raised one hand, and lowered it, the battalion coming off of attention in unison. Callahan, her four commanders, and a platoon of fifty troops marched forward, approaching the man that they had identified from their spy sattelites as "The Voice." The HNID had been carefully observing each of the delegations, their arrivals, their very words, lip-read from live telemetry, feeding relevant information to the Supreme Commander and her forces. The listened carefully as the man introduced himself, watching the Doomingsland Troops taking up position around them. Harkonnan forces seemed uncannily cool under pressure. Perhaps it was chemical stimulants administered by the suits, or perhaps it was just how battle hardened these shock troops in particular were. Even so, engineers were already doing passive bioscans on both the voice, and the soldiers, and a handful of elite HNID agents slipped into the group were thoroughly recording the goings on for later review. Callahan then responded bluntly.

"I have several questions, Voice. The first, is what exactly you are. We have observed an entity identical to you greet each of the delegations. I would assume that you are either an artificial construct, or a biological replica. Perhaps the equivalent of an automaton. I would assume, as such, that the soldiers here are of a similar ... Manufacture. Second, is the extent of your fortifications, and the purpose of this facility. Our sattelite feeds have confirmed eight fortresses in this mountain range so far, the surfaces of each identical to this, and each attended to by a delegation from a foreign nation. You may answer as we walk. The 'mechs will indeed be left outside."

The female exuded an uncanny aura of ferocity, and indeed, being one who had lead a nation of war against hundreds of foes over the past quarter century, it was doubtful that said aura was unjustified. She was no petty warlord, no insignificant tyrant. Callahan was the pinnacle of Harkonnan achievement and skill. Any lesser race would have considered her a God to be revered. A God of war. And yet, in Harkonna, she was merely the rightful head of state, her position earned by battle and skill. And the next to take her place would only be stronger, and Harkonna itself would only prosper further ...

[Doomingsland]

"An astute observation, Supreme Commander. I am nothing so crude as a 'biological replica;' rather, I and my brothers are the result of centuries of careful crafting and creation by my Master. I suppose you can say that in a way I was created by him, though bred would be a more accurate term; bred for the purpose of serving as my Master's eyes, ears, and mouth when dealing with...visitors." He paused for a moment, a slight smile crossing his lips, "My guardians, they are not like me. They are just men. Men of exceptional ability and motivation, but men none the less," depending on the sophistication of the Harkonan bioscanners, they would soon realize that the Voice was, unlike his so-called guardians, more than a man: his brain activity was noticeably higher than the average human's, and he was augmented. His eyes were not the ones he was born with; it could be very well that his duty of serving as his master's eyes, ears, and mouth was far more literal than one would initially be lead to believe.

"This place you see before you is my place of duty. I suppose you could call it...an embassy, of sorts. As to the fortifications...I fear I am not privy to the specific details. You may rest assured that this mountain range is adequately fortified."

As with the previous parties, the delegation strolled through the greeting hall and was taken by elevator to the dining chamber, where a feast had already been prepared. As usual, the guests were seated according to station, with the Voice at the right hand of the Supreme Commander.

When the guests had been seated and the first course of roasted meats and bred had been brought forth and the wine poured, the Voice made his toast:

"In my Master's Name, I offer this feast in honor of Supreme Leader Callahan of the Harkonans!"


-----

The Vakolicci were lead through the entrance hall up to the dining chamber where the feast had been prepared. When the guests had been seated and the first course of roasted meats and bred had been brought forth and the wine poured, the Voice made his toast:

"In my Master's Name, I offer this feast in honor of the leaders of Vakolic!"

-----

As with the other parties, the UNA delegation found themselves before a black tower on a white field. The doors were cast open, and out marched the honor guard, and after them their host, who looked remarkably like the Voice and the other blue-robed, bald men with black eyes.


"Esteemed representative of the United Nations Alliance, on behalf of my Lord and Master I welcome you to Doomingsland. On His behalf I thank you for accepting His invitation. Please, I bid you follow me, that you may accept my Lord's hospitality. If you have any questions, I would be honored to answer."

[Vakolic]

"How did you know that we would possibly come to this meeting??" Ronan asked, between mouthfuls of food. "The vakolicci have been almost as isolationist as the doomani over the last few years, since our defeat of bavungria. We only came out of isolation when we founded the sovereign league. How on earth could you know that the vakolicci haven even new about international affairs."

"So, this 'master' you speak of. You say he is more than a man," lord Della Barecci remarked. "What is he then?"

[Harkonna]

One of the engineers, noticeably one due to the dull orange markings along segments of his armour, and, of course, the scanning/repair equipment on his person. If one were particularly astute, they would see that this particular engineer was kitting various self-assembling field machinery kits, allowing troops to deploy various useful, automated structures on the fly in battle. Generally, these troops, aside from officers, were the mainstay of any Harkonnan force- reinforcing the rear line, and proving fire support for assault troops.

A soundless exchange took place as the engineer held out the bioscanner, and tweaked it a little, tapping the screen for emphasis before returning to an analysis of the Doomingland Trooper's armaments. Although it seemed as if it was soundless, in fact, the Harkonnans body armour allowed them to communicate on a heavily encrypted local UHF radio network, using VHF to communicate with the orbital arrays, bouncing them off of their systems for long range communication with other units. As they proceeded up the elevator, Callahan remarked on her findings.

"My engineers tell me that you are augmented to a fair extent. We too, are augmented in such a way, though, in many others as well. Biologically. Genetically. Harkonna strives to create a race that is more efficient, more effective. And of course, more diverse. Those unable to serve, are instead added to our collective diversity. Added to our ... Pool of human resources, as it were. And when they eventually die off, as non-citizens, we no longer need to deal with their drag towards our goal. A few more generations, say our scientists- and Harkonna will have eliminated genetic disease. With efficient nanotech on the bleeding edge, it may be only a few months before we have eliminated disease as a whole. But, enough of our achievements. Voice. Are you merely an appendage for another entity? If I am to take an educated guess about the logistics of maintaining a nation such as this, it would take an incredible feat of computational power without an extraordinarily diverse government. I believe your Lord is a conglomerate entity- either a fusion of many biological minds, or a proper artificial construct. Have I ... Hit near the mark, as it were?"

She talked as they stepped off the elevator, only to be greeted with a lavish feast. As they sat, the troopers, and commanders looked uncomfortably about. They had been offered food, but Harkonnans in field armour had no need for nourishment. Nutrients and 'filler' were consistently dripped into them, keeping them reasonably full, and in a state of optimum nourishment. After the initial discomfort had passed, they simply decided to opt out, merely sitting politely, and offering their food to the serving girls that had brought it in, on letting it sit in front of them as they silently chattered among each other. The only audible voices were that of Callahan and the Voice himself as they discussed his Leader.

[Tehraan]

Kareya, being presented with a wealth of food that he hadn’t expected, was dumbstruck. It wasn’t uncommon for a dinner to be held on diplomatic occasions, but never had he experienced it in a way like this, it had an almost bizarre feel about it. He could tell by the faces of the delegation that they had similar thoughts, yet not wanting to insult the host joined in on the feast as if nothing was wrong. And there wasn’t, they were certainly hungry enough.

He turned to the man besides him. “There something that comes my mind. I’ve read the history before you turned to isolation and I notice it has changed considerably. What have you been doing before you choice to send out that message?”

[Doomingsland]

"I do believe my Master would approve of your most noble goals of purging the weak from among your flock; it is something we Doomani are...intimately familiar with," he did not elaborate; it was not his place to do so. "As to what sort of entity my Master is, well; entity may not be the right word. It suggests something less than what He is, something that lacks his...divinity. Deity, perhaps. Yes. That is a most appropriate word to describe Him in your language..."

------

The Voice turned to Barecci, a smile crossing his lips, and spoke rather nonchalantly, "Why, he is a God of course."

------

"We have been bettering ourselves as a people under the guidance of Our Lord, Ambassador Kareya."

[United World Order]

Ordernite Aero-Space Command(OASCOM), City of Arabia
August 20th, 2012

"Command Director sir, we have an unknown radio feed coming from an unknown location. Permission to track the feed sir?" A OASCOM Intellegence officer said as Command Director Devan Ashmyr approached and stroked the beard on his face as he turned to another officer wearing a headset as he nodded giving the sign for the officer to play the message over. The entire room went silent as the message begun to play throughout the room.

WE ARE RETURNED. LET THOSE WHO WOULD TREAT WITH US COME FORTH TO THE MOUNTAIN OF THE VOICE, THAT THEY MAY HEAR THE GLORIOUS NEWS.

Devan's lips slowly formed into a smirk as he took a drag of the ciggerate in his mouth. A isolation state arising from the depths of the shadows showing it's teeth. It was silent expect for the sounds of running computers and the air condition within the room. "Alert the Internal Bureau, send them that same message and let them handle it" he ordered as the officers got to work relaying the message to the Internal Bureau back in Berlina.

The Fortified Fascist State of The United World Order
Die Fortified faschistischen Staat der Vereinigten Weltordnung
Lo Stato fascista fortificata del Nuovo Uniti Ordine Mondiale
In Muniuntur Fascist statum C Cornelii Mundus Ordinis

---

Recipient: The Nation of Doomingsland
Subject: Attendance
Encryption: High

---

We shall be arriving shortly. As we have been invited.
Sincerely signed,
The Supreme Commander of The State Victor Klubtz