[SC Only] Red Snow

[Chargren]

"We understand your dilemma, High Marshal," Vau said with a small smile. "I believe the Iryllians will be facing a similar issue on their side as well. I believe, however, that we would indeed be able to make an offer to host the peace talks. The Queendom of Chargren wants very much for this war to be over and for peace to return to the region. I have no doubt that my Queen will agree to help that along in any way we can."

---

"The High Marshal seemed to be receptive to the idea, and willing to talk peace, though with conditions," Vau said to Lord Henrai Baccus later, via the satellite video connection on the diplomatic plane. He and Mei had left the Myraxian capital a an hour or so earlier, and he was making his report of the results to the Queendom's Lord Councilor. "Obviously, she doesn't want Myraxians in Rygan, and doesn't want to go to Forqona either. She has requested that we act as hosts instead, given our neutrality."

The Lord Councilor paused for a few seconds. "It's possible," he said slowly, "but I don't want to promise anything concrete in the way of a time table or a location until the Iryllians get back to us. Once they do, we can start planning things then."

He gave the Chargrenite Ambassador an apologetic shrug. "At the moment, it's up to our friends Llyelin and Falkhurst, and whatever influence they can-"

He suddenly turned away from the camera as someone off screen called his name. There was a hurried exchange, which Vau didn't catch, but then Baccus turned back to him, smiling this time.

"Well Jonathon, I have good news. Falkhurst just contacted us to say the negotiations are a go. Our sources are also reporting that the Iryllians are being given orders to begin a slow withdrawal to the south, with orders to do anything they can to stall a Myraxian advance in their wake."

"Really? That was fast," commented Vau. "I was under the impression that Iryllia was an extremely slow-moving place. Odd. But, in that case, I'll get the notices out to the parties and we can start figuring out where to hold all of this."

"Agrell, I'd assume, but we can figure that out later," said Baccus. "Just inform them that both have agreed to it, and to start assembling their teams. We'll keep them updated as to the where and when of the talks." He paused for a second. "And good work, Jonathon. Maybe this endless nightmare will soon be over."

"We can only hope, sir," said Vau with a smile. "End transmission."

---

Dispatch to High Marshal Sharn Nykona,
Myraxian High Command

And

Gen. S. D. Llyelin,
Iryllian Office of External Affairs

To the respective governments of Myraxia and Iryllia,

I wish to express our most sincere gratitude for agreeing to discuss peace, and the hopes of Queen Falko and the rest of our government for the success of the initiative. Now that both parties have agreed to talks, we will begin making the arrangements for the time and place, though it's likely that Agrell will be the best choice for them. Iryllia has indicated that it will take them at least a week to assemble their delegation, and I would guess that Myraxia will need a similar amount of time to gather theirs. If either party has any requests about where the conference is held, please make them known, so that we may best accommodate the needs of all parties.

I wish to once again express my sincere hope for a conclusion to this war, and I look forward to seeing both parties at the peace talks.


Yours,

Ambassador Jonathon Vau,
Chargrenite Diplomatic Corps

[Federation of Aligned Species]

A small speeder zooms through a field of tall grass. On it is a figure in a worn brown cloak. He is focused and speeds up. On him is an FAS slave collar, worn by the enslaved species hidden from the FAS public eye. He is getting closer to the border, only one kilometer away before his speeder gives out and he crashes. The speeder dips nose first into the ground, throwing him off the bike and into the ground. Whirling over is head is the bouncing speeder before it explodes and causes a small fire. The pilot stands up slowly holding one arm with another. Slowly he limps forward towards the border.

[Chargren]

Two weeks after both parties had agreed to peace talks, the Iryllian and Myraxian representatives were set to arrive in the Chargrenite capital of Agrell. They would be landing at the governmental airport on the south side of the city, then being brought by car to the Royal Palace, which would be where the peace talks would take place. In preparation for the potentially region-altering talks, the Royal Guard had doubled security in and around the Palace while the Office of Special Intelligence had deployed its myriad of agents throughout the city and put its contacts in the surrounding regions on high alert for any possibility of interference from outside parties. There was a tremendous amount riding on the success of the talks, and Queen Falko did not want a situation like what had occurred in Nouvel Acadie happening in Chargren.

With the preparations for the meeting completed, all that remained was for the belligerents to arrive....

[Myraxia]

The Myraxian delegation arrived first, shuttled in a Myraxian made Kizen-Laroy KLt-755 escorted by a flight of carrier borne fighters from the Gates of Oblivion, stationed just outside Chargrenite national waters. Upon landing, a team of marines disembarked first, led by a Lieutenant who after confirming the security arrangements with the Chargrenites, gave the all clear for the delegation to disembark. Marshal Nykona was the first to dismount, followed by Sub-Marshal Fyrev (looking very uncomfortable in his dress uniform) acting as her second.

Fyrev's first glimpse of the Royal Palace across the city was an impressive one - such buildings simply did not exist in Myraxia any more. Nykona, however, took it in her stride - as Marshal for Logistics she had often traveled to other countries to secure trade agreements. As they walked to the car, she turned to her second. "Try to not to let your jaw drop quite so low, Narael. You're going to have to get used to this, and I need you focused for these talks. "
"Yes, Marshal. Of course. " He hurriedly pushed a blanker expression on to his face.

[Iryllia]

With a strained wail of its engines the plane screeched down onto the tarmac with a protesting shriek. The aircraft itself was relative unremarkable, similar in style to some of the more private looking jet liners in some of the terminal bays. The main thing setting the craft apart from others already landed was the white rose roundel on the hull and wings standing out from the two tone grey and blue coat. As the thing touched down, the pilots anxiety was clearly visible through the windscreen. The machine slowed, the pilot began following the instructions of the ground crew, taxiing the plane down the end of the runway and into a berth towards the end of the runway.

---

Llyelin sniffed as she stepped out the door. "The air's cleaner of here." She mused, stepping onto the first step with a creak. She looked around, the sky was grey and solid. Like a sheet of metal. A breeze was blowing hard enough to tear paper from an inattentive hand. The airport was much the same as any other. Drab with large blocky buildings frenetic ground crews scurrying about their business. History would be made here. Whether it would mean a damn thing or not didn't really matter to her. Falkhurst sniffed loudly behind her. "Smells wet." Llyelin rolled her eyes, taking her first steps down towards the nervous looking Chargrenites. "That's because it's been raining dumbass. I do hope you intend on not being this blunt during the talks. Or do you not understand what diplomacy is?" Falkhurst just stayed silent with the third member of their party, resplendent in his armour. "I don't think he'd know what diplomacy was if it slapped him in the face with its cock." Tras snorted.

---

"A limo! A fucking limo! How long has it been since we've been in a limo huh?" Tras grinned, delighted at the effort the Chargrenites had done for them. "Last time I was in Nouvel Acadie." Llyelin mused. "Though that didn't turn out too well..." She shrugged, Falkhurst just stared impassively at his documents. "Tras, it's unbecoming of a man of your stature to be so awestruck."
"Bah, it's humbling." He chuckled, "Anyway, a General shouldn't lecture me on my behaviour. It's unbecoming." He mocked.

---

A palace. A glorious palace in which to make history. For better or for worse only time will tell. The Iryllian delegation stepped out of the limousine. They shook hands, smiled their smiles and moved towards the gardens. Many eyes watched and wondered.

[Chargren]

Once both parties had arrived safely at the Palace, they were brought to the quarters that had been set aside for them to sat in for the duration of the talks. The delegations were both located in the older wing of the Palace; the Iryllians close to the gardens, while the Myraxians were in rooms overlooking the harbor on the other side of the wing. The negotiations would be held in the newer section of the Palace, where there were several meeting rooms which would be suited to host the delegations. And throughout the entire Palace, the Royal Guard maintained a constant watch over the entire scene.

---

"Now that both parties are here, I want to get things going as soon as possible," Queen Falko said to Lord Baccus as they walked down the corridor from the daily Council briefing. "This war has already been going on far too long as it is, and the longer we wait the more likely things are to just devolve into a stalemate."

"Certainly," Baccus agreed, "and the longer things take, the more the situation might spiral out of control. I'm also concerned that one side might regain momentum and decide that it doesn't need to talk peace. That would be a disaster, especially now that they're both willing to talk."

"Hmm, yes, I agree," Falko mused. "At the moment I think Nykona, at least, does want an end to the war, and our dear friends Llyelin and Falkhurst are at least going to negotiate, if nothing else. In order to get them to sincerely try for an actual resolution to this, though, we might have to bait the pro-peace faction a bit. Or possibly squeeze them, depending. A lot of this is riding on if our two friends can overcome the resistance from their own government to a peace deal."

"And there's the problem," sighed Baccus. "It's unlikely the Myraxians are going to agree to peace without some sort of concessions, and its almost equally unlikely that the Iryllians are going to want to give any. We're going to have our work very much cut out for us."

"Don't we always though?" Falko said back with a grin. "That's what makes it fun!"

"I think I feel another headache coming on..." sighed Baccus. "Just please tell me before you do anything sudden this time is all I ask."

"Of course, of course," Falko said, waving dismissively. Then, with sudden seriousness, "I want this to succeed as much as you do. This war has torn apart our region for far too long, and destroyed far too much. It has to end."

Baccus paused, recognizing the determination that had seen Katida Falko selected from among her siblings to be the next monarch. "Yes," he said after a few seconds. "It must. And we'll make that happen."

They both resumed walking down the corridor, Baccus sending messengers to inform both delegations of the scheduled start of the talks the next day, and to invite them to a state dinner that night, if they so pleased. Fate willing, the end of the War of Red Snow would begin the next morning.

[North Covenant]

whoops

[Iryllia]

The Iryllians passed on the dinner invitation, citing a want to adequately prepare for the beginning of negotiations the next day. The butler had said that they were very forthcoming, friendly even. They spoke about how wonderful the city was and how honored they were to stay in the royal grounds. The views were excellent and the food even more so. They smiled and smiled but never moving from the door frame. Their most insistent apologies. The butler had smiled, recounting the encounter, just very wonderful people. It's hard to think they were fighting a war at all...

"Right." Llyelin turned from the door, an exasperated look on her face. "You're the one with the master plan here. Tell me, what do we actually want from this?" She looked at Tras, who threw back a laconic gaze. "Oh, I don't know. Peace sounds pretty good."
"This is why I'm the diplomat and you're not."
"This is why I'm the Field Marshal and you're not." Falkhurst chuckled in the corner, laying out several documents on his desk. "How about," He paused for a second and both lanced glares his way. "How about we actually discuss, instead of passive aggressively flirting with each other hmm?" The two remained silent. "Right, first off, a cease-fire might be practical. A grace period for us to withdraw our troops. After that? I'm open to discussion." The two continues glaring. Falkhurst just shrugged, "Just a suggestion." He muttered, returning to his paperwork. "Right. It's a start, I'm sure we can both agree to that." Tras looked pointedly towards Llyelin, "The Myraxians that is, they'll certainly want some compensation. Peace? I know they wont bend any knee to concessions."
"That'll be because you started the bloody war."
"No no, our valiant efforts were to support the oppressed peoples of Myraxia in their rebellion against the government."
"You invaded the south while they fucked around in the north!"
"Haven't you ever heard of divide and conquer?"
"They were all dead by the time you got fifty kilometers inside the borders."
"And their valiant sacrifice allowed us to push up to the capitol."
"Which you then got pushed back from, leaving Kemenkov to die!"
"Kemenkov, unlike you, understood the necessity of the situation and the fact that in war, nothing ever goes perfectly to plan." The stare Llyelin gave Tras could have melted through a foot of steel. "Look, we'll negotiate the cease-fire, after that we'll see what they have to offer. Okay?"
"Fine, look. This needs to end okay? Whatever scheme or shit you've cooked up or whatever. This needs to end, otherwise there wont be much of an Iryllia to get back too okay?"
Okay."

---

The night passed, the security watched and nothing particularly happened. Llylein slept. Tras made a note of exactly how many royal guards, snipers and agents were patrolling around. He counted a grand total of thrity six guardsmen, twelve sniper spotter teams in various locations and three very suspicious looking cutlery staff having a smoke in a shadowy corner of the garden. Falkhurst was awake most of the night, preparing the variety of official documents and continuing to sort through the pile of reports, filling them away in one of several briefcases as he processed the lot. When the aide knocked on the door to collect the delegation, Falkhurst was sitting, tired eyes in his chair. Llyelin and Tras had been going over some final points in the center of the room. Tras, resplendent in his full regalia, Llyelin looking somewhat more astute. An officer compared to the Knight that was Tras. Falkhurst yawned, collecting up the days briefcase and following the two out into the hallway. He asked if he could get some coffee, a small aide scurried off down a flight of stairs. He smiled, despite the nervous tension he could feel in the air, this was where he was meant to be. A diplomat. Not a generals liaison. The day was going to be a very good day.

[Myraxia]

The meeting room was small, yet tastefully decorated - much as the rest of the Palace was, as the Myraxian delegation had discovered in their initial tour; being kept out, obviously, from the private chambers of the Royal Family, but this was to be expected and no offence was taken. The security arrangements were also surprisingly tight, but then, reflected a pensive Narael Fyrev, that wasn't entirely surprising. Sharing a continent with nations like Myraxia, Iryllia and Valyrien, it was only to be expected that the Chargrenites would have a competent security force.

Snapping back to the present, he resisted the urge to look round at the junior Lieutenant reeling off the list of demands that he and the Marshal had come up with the night before.

"Firstly, A ceasefire between all relevant combatants, followed by the total withdrawal of all Iryllian and Iryllian-aligned troops, along with affiliated personnel, from Myraxian territories. Secondly, a reduction to the tune of 80% in the toll paid by Myraxian shipping through the Iryllian strait. Thirdly, the Iryllian navy will be restricted in tonnage(exact specifications will be discussed at a later date). Fourthly, the Iryllian government will provide financial compensation for all damages caused to Myraxia and the Myraxian people. Finally, the presence of Iryllian military personnel in all land between the official borders of Myraxia and Iryllia is strictly prohibited. "

Fyrev watched the Iryllians across the table from him. They looked impassive, their faces giving nothing away.

[Iryllia]

"That the guy?"
"That's the guy."
"I always thought they'd be uglier."
"I always thought that about you." Falkhurst coughed politely, indicating his displeasure at the whispered exchange going on behind him between two of the most important people in the nation. One of the Myraxians had stood, and was reading off a list of demands like a shopping list. So drab, so dull. They really were a humourless bunch but that's Rusina for you. Falkhurst paid particular attention to the officer in the front. Fyrev. He'd been promoted since the last time he looked at the reports and he certainly looked awkward enough. There was the Valyrien party, doing a good impression of a goth rock band that he'd been particularly fond off in his youth. Those puppets from Drekhi. They looked pale and sickly, like they didn't get enough sunlight. He could hear the Bandoans bickering to his right, quiet enough so the other side couldn't hear but it was getting on his nerves.

He stood. "The first point, I think we can all agree on however," he paused and stared pointedly at the Valyrien party. "This can only work if all parties participate. Additionally, I think you need to include the negotiation of a corridor from Rygan to Iryllian controlled territory to facilitate the removal of the surrounded combatants. I am very sure that you wish too see this through as much as I do." His gaze turned to Fyrev. "While I will acknowledge that accidents can, and will happen. Any act of aggression will be treated in kind. Also..." He mentally sighed, hearing the Bandoans complain. "I'm sure our friends here, want to facilitate the return of their prisoners. However that is up to them."

"The second point. I think we can all agree that the Iryllian Toll is an important part of the Iryllian economy. Our prices are fair and just. An eighty percent reduction seems a little steep. We do have a country to run here and we can't just wave Toll fee's just like that now can we? Trade is important. So, I suggest something nearer the seventy percent margin. I think we can all agree that it is fair to do so. No?"

"As for your third point. It seems rather antiquated doesn't it? This isn't the age of the battleship or the dreadnought. A two-thousand tonne vessel can do far more than any behemoth over a hundred thousand tonnes could ever do. It seems somewhat superfluous don't you think? While I am open to discussion on the topic. To my ears it doesn't seem all that necessary. As I'm sure our allies will agree." His lips tightened. While he wished to be fair and honest, he wanted to cut the Bandoans out of this as much as possible. A prospect seeming less and less likely.

"Your last point seems reasonable, if ambiguous. Borders change you know? Take, example, the DMZ between us Iryllians and our dear friends the Chargrenites. Clearly defined points to help control the flow of traffic between the border. What you have stated in your clause. While I understand is just a draft. Is terribly ambiguous and entirely open to interpretation. There is a lot of unclaimed land between out two nations. Perhaps more simply an exclusion zone of any military traffic between our borders? Iryllian units may not approach within., say two hundred miles of the Myraxian borders and visa versa."

"As a final matter. It feels unjust. We have not lost this war. We set out with the noble goal of assisting the Myraxian people, at their request, in the struggle against their government. We fought valiantly for their freedom yet their forces were crushed. Leaders killed. Unjustly. Now that we understand that this war has brought wreck and ruin without hope of building a better future. Simply asking. Nay. Demanding concessions from us seems a little... Rude? Don't you think? War is hardly black and white, this isn't the old days where good pitted against evil in desperate battle. There are never clear victors anymore. So I feel like, trying to simply proclaim yourself victor in a much more complication conflict seems a little naïve." He pursed his lips. staring down the opposition. His mind cast towards the Chargrenites and how they'd cast their light on this.

[Valyrien]

The Valarisk delegation had entered the meeting hall. Backs straight and with a supercilious expression. Most of them were easy on the eyes, those horribly scarred looked like they could've been. One of the Valari emissaries cought Falkhurst's stare with a curious expression and head cocked to the side. She flashed him a smile and winked with the one eye that wasn't covered with a bloodied bandage. The woman was carrying a large, dark banner featuring the Valyrien sun, the pole resting comfortably against her shoulder.

Stâhlfalk, having previously been discussing matters with members of the Myraxian delegation in perfect "common language" turned to the Iryllians and spoke with a firm and worn voice... In Valar. "The lackies of the major factions have no place at the negotiation table. Said delegations will be removed from the meeting hall before any further negotiations can take place." A translator uttered at a stumbling pace... Not many know Valar, and those that did had trouble. Stâhlfalk's voice had been sharp and there was a look of disguste in his eyes as he looked at the Iryllian delegation, though it was a cold and "polite" disguste.

"The illegal occupation of Myraxian territory is driven by Iryllian expansionism and not some idealistic revolution fueled by Myraxian terrorists and traitors the Iryllian government used as a casus belli." Stâhlfalk stated with a cool tone. "The notion that the Iryllian delegation could negotiate from an equal standing is laughable at best when your nation's resourses are near exhusted. The Valyrien delegation do not require for Iryllia to surrender, but support the Myraxian demands about compensation for the murder of their former leadership and untold damages done to the Myraxia populice."

With a flick of the Valari's wrist, two Valarisk soldiers moved forth from the delegation carrying a lavishly decorated rolled up map of northern Rusina. "The Great Stratocratic Empire of Valyrien have a single term, and that is the acknowledgement of the following territories formerly known as "The Northern Facist Ohio Empire" being divided between Myraxia and Valyrien. The savage people being in dire need of aid and guidance from the noble Valari and honoured Myraxian people.

http://image.prntscr.com/image/4f232670993145dcb965832584512412.png

[Chargren]

Lord Henrai Baccus, Lord Chancellor of the Queendom of Chargren and a lifetime career diplomat, had to use all of his willpower to crush the urge to sigh deeply at the opening remarks by both parties. As well as at the Bandoans . He was rather wishing the additional parties hadn't attended, at the moment.

"Hôg-Ôverste Stâhlfalk, if we could please hold off on your demands for a time," asked Baccus, "as of right now the first priority is to negotiate the cessation of hostilities between the two major powers, Iryllia and Myraxia. I understand that you also have a part in this, but I ask that you be patient for the time. And, "he continued crisply, "demanding that people be thrown out before talks have even actually begun is a bit hasty."

"Now, I believe, Colonel Falkhurst," Baccus said, directing his attention toward the Iryllian, "that it isn't a case of who the 'victors' in this are. Personally, I'd argue that there are no victors at all; just two sides who have had enough of smashing themselves against each other and want out of this mess. However, the fact remains that Iryllia has invaded Myraxia, and caused a tremendous amount of damage to the country and its people. If you want this war to end, there needs to be some willingness to acknowledge that."

"The first thing that we believe needs to be addressed is a cease-fire, effective as soon as the details can be set. Stopping the fighting should be the first priority; once that's done, we can go about making it permanent."

"For a military-exclusion zone, the model that Chargren and Iryllia has worked quite well since its inception. A modified version, with substantially increased distances and procedures, would be something to consider as a means of fulfilling Myraxia's fifth condition. It would need to be worked over more carefully, certainly, but it would be a place to start from."

He paused, looking at the two sides arranged across from each other at the table.

"The issue of reparations is what is likely to dominate these talks, however, and in order to make any progress here, I need willingness to be realistic. From both sides."

[Iryllia]

"Lord Baccus, you paint us in a bad light. However I do agree that us Iryllians are the aggressors here. The Myraxians and Valari are fierce fighters, so some collateral damage was inevitable." He smiled thinly. "The cease fire. Yes, seems somewhat self explanatory no? Just stop shooting at each other. I'm sure everyone here can manage that. As I said safe extraction of Iryllian troops from Rygan and the removal of all Iryllian troops from sovereign Myraxian territory in what? Two months?" His gaze drew over the parties present. Stâhlfalk practically spat venom. Fyrev just looked tired. Lord Baccus exasperated. The Valari banner-woman continually tried catching his eye. Falkhurst ignored the injured soldier. "The cease-fire, and perhaps eventual peace is of course foremost in our minds." He swore he saw Stâhlfalk cringe when he said that. "Only the Myraxians and the Valari have been demanding concessions. While we're willing to bend a knee, us being the aggressors here. We will not kneel."

"We are the ones being reasonable here. We have not made any untoward demands, we simply want this to end. The opposing side does have some rights to concessions, which we are willing to agree too but they are horrendously over stepping their mark. I think, you, Lord Baccus, will be an excellent mediator in these talks." The thin smile again. "I feel that I'm getting ahead of myself. The cease-fire. As I have already stated, the key points for us are the extraction of Iryllian forces from Rygan, unmolested by any other party. Then the extraction of all personnel from the area. Until we can agree to this I don't think any party should be making any demands."

[Myraxia]

Fyrev, seated at the front of the delegation alongside Marshal Nykona, leaned forward to speak his part whilst his CO sat there smirking slightly.
"You will have your ceasefire, Colonel. Your soldiers will not be harmed as they withdraw. Unlike you Iryllians, Myraxians are familiar with the concept of honour. We are also willing to accept the honourable Lord Baccus' suggestion of a DMZ modelled after that used by the Chargrenite people. I feel it is also worth pointing out that Iryllia is the only country on Rusina - even in the Charter, to the best of my knowledge - whose neighbours have felt it necessary to establish a DMZ facing. Does this not speak volumes of the character of their nation? "
He sat back, and gave a respectful nod to the Valari delegation. "My esteemed colleague, Hôg-Ôverste Stâhlfalk, also raises an important matter. The wild northern lands require, especially in the face of the Iryllian menace, responsible stewardship. We demand that this claim is recognised. In addition, we will not submit on our other points - the damage that this unjustified occupation has caused will take years to repair, before even touching on the cost in terms of resources. Compensation must be paid in full for damages caused."

He leaned forward again. "However, the Colonel does make a valid point - this is indeed as he says, no longer the age of the battleship. With this in mind we amend our third point accordingly to include a limit on the number of aircraft carriers that Iryllia is permitted to operate - say, three? In addition to the aforementioned tonnage limit. "

"But, in accordance with our allies request, we will not provide response to any further negotiations until those nations who are not directly required to be here are removed from the table. That is all. "

[Chargren]

"In that case, with both parties agreeing to a ceasefire, Iryllia can begin withdrawing their troops from Myraxian territories immediately," said Baccus, "with the withdrawal deadline still needing to be decided on. Was your suggestion of two months a legitimate offer, or just a general indication, Colonel?" he continues, looking to Falkhurst. "The period will need to be reasonably short, but not so much as to make the Iryllians unable to withdraw. Further review of the state of things may be required before we should set a fixed date for its completion. Regardless, however, the withdrawal can begin as soon as both sides are informed of the ceasefire."

"Now, Sub-Marshal," he said, turning to address Fyrev, "the future of what was once Northern Ohio can be discussed as well, but what do you mean by your last statement? So far as I am aware, all of the nations here are or were at one point involved in the war, for however short a period that may have been, even the Bandoians. As I understand, they wish to negotiate the release of their men that you have prisoner, but that can be done later on in the discussions. The major participants must be dealt with first before we can focus on that."

[Valyrien]

Everything Stâhlfalk had said sounded cold and rephersed without a hint of emotion, almost as if the statements held no meaning to him. It would've seemed as if the Valarisk delegation had showed their hand... Interested only in furthering their own interests and not genuinely caring about the suffering of the Myraxian people in the slightest, or anyone else involved for that matter.

The injured soldier pouted with her lips in an excessive manner to display some modest disappointment over Falkhurst disinterest. "SMACK!" The sound of Stâhlfalk's boot hitting the floor and the woman snapped into attention. Her face was relaxed, but concern bordering on fear stirred in her eyes as the Hôg-Ôverste shot a short glance at her. "It would seem all parties of worth has reached an agreement concerning the ceasefire... Despite the Valarisk and our honourable Myraxian colleagues demands concerning the perticipants of the meeting..." The last word seemingly tasting sour in his mouth as Stâhlfalk returned the nod to Fyrev.

"The Valarisk delegation purpose a recess in order for all the parties to discuss their conditions and renew their vigor with refreshments for futher negotiations..." The Hôg-Ôverste more declared than requested. "And..." He lingered on the word sweetly, "To allow the rabble to exit and return later when their lesser concerns can be adressed."

[Iryllia]

Falkhurst felt the sudden and alarming need to exhale once he stepped out of the room. A pent up release of apprehension escaping from his lips. "What's the matter?" Llyelin called sweetly from behind him. Taking Falkhurst towards a more distant corner with Tras in tow. "Can't handle a bit of negotiations?" Falkhurst stared dourly, brushing her hand off his shoulder. "I deserve a promotion for this, You try facing some of the most powerful figures in the world as only a colonel."
"You're not getting promoted for this. Uh, what's his face?"
"Fyrev"
"Thank you Tras. Fyrev, is only a sub marshal."
"-Which is equivalent to General? Or similar." Falkhurst cut in. Llyelin put up her hand. "Technicalities, I think the Valari are of a similar rank." Falkhurst continued to stare, he noticed out of the corner of his eye the Valari delegation exiting the room, the flag bearer winked at him. "Look, you two, Let us focus of what we have at hand. Since you don't seem terribly wanton to help, at least advise me on what to do, as a good superior officer should do." The Myraxian delegation passed, deep in conversation. "Well..." Llyelin mulled the word over while Tras stood impassively. "Even if we can't wrangle a better naval deal, who says we listen anyway? We've got more building now than the treaty might say we can have. So no to that. Once we break for the day, I'll have Tras here beging the withdrawal and put the ceasefire into effect."
"Will you?"
"Yes, regardless. Seeming as we don't have much leverage here. Just lessen the blow as much as possible. Alright? Okay. Also, it's unbecoming of an officer of your stature to be courting lower born officers of our enemies."

[Chargren]

"Well?" asked Queen Falko at an informal dinner meeting of the Royal Council later that night. "How do you think it went?"

"It could have gone better," said Lord Baccus wearily, eating his dinner of sauteed fish and mushrooms. "Myraxia opened with most of the expected demands, including full reparations and a restriction in naval tonnage for Iryllian ships, while Iryllia countered and tried to get out of offering anything at all. And then there's the Valarisk delegation -" he paused to swallow "- who started demanding the removal of the "lackies of the major factions" - while not removing themselves, I might add - and then made a joint Myraxian/Valarisk claim to the territories that used to be Northern Ohio."

"So, about what we expected then?" asked Lord Ian Fenevich, the Lord Justice, as he chewed on his chicken breast covered in homemade sauce (he was a rather picky eater).

"Essentially," Baccus replied. "These two have been going at each other for decades, even before this mess. They're both going to drag their heels quite a lot, even without the Valarisk egging on the Myraxians to be as tough as possible."

"Sounds like they might be here for a while then," mused Lady Anja Narukami, the Lady Exchequer, as she nursed her hamburger with one hand and used a fork to repulse Lord Roth from stealing her french fries with the other.

"It seems that way, yes," agreed Roth, enduring a sharp rap on the knuckles to seize a pair of fries. "Personally, I tend to agree with the Iryllian - Faulkhurt, was his name? - about the naval tonnage restriction. That doesn't mean particularly much these days, honestly. There's not much point in having something like that, and it's just one more thing for them to argue over."

"Yes, his argument did make sense," Baccus concurred. "I'll see if I can convince them to let that one go. It will just waste time, at this point."
"The main thing we need to do right now," said Falko, as she chewed absentmindedly on her curry rice dish, "is ensure that the ceasefire goes into effect and is working, and that the Iryllians are withdrawing as promised. Following that, the toll reduction and repayments can be discussed - maybe we can figure out how to roll them together somehow, as a means of paying for damages over time rather than as a single lump sum. It would let the Myraxians have the cash the need to rebuild, and the Iryllian team could spin it as a victory to their superiors back home."

"That could be conceivable," mused Narukami. "I doubt they could be convinced to put the two together into one, but maybe establish exactly what needs to be repaid, establish the toll reduction, then suggest that the toll could be further reduced, or even eliminated, and the deductions could contribute to the repayment. The only issue is, with Iryllian also having to recover from the war, the government might decide that it wants to keep as much of its income intact as possible and be stubborn about the toll, or about repayments." She paused to take and finish another bite of her food. "Regardless, it's certainly worth a try. Giving ground on the tolls might also convince the Myraxians to lower their demands for repayments, which I'm sure the Iryllians would like."

"Well, it's all well and good for us to decide all of this," Baccus half-grumbled, "but it really depends on how stubborn everyone decides to be."

"That it does!" laughed Falko. "We have to remember who we're dealing with here. Neither side is usually much for negotiations. At least not with words." She grinned at Baccus's exasperation. "Well, they've already agreed that a ceasefire would be best for everyone, so that's already something. We'll just have to see where things go tomorrow."

[Valyrien]

"I hope it suits your tastes, General..." Stâhlfalk swished the dark liquid around in the glass before sipping the brandy. He savoured it in his mouth for a long time before swallowing. "You are dismissed. Leave the bottle..." The Valarisk Hôg-Ôverste ordered the soldier that had recently filled their glasses. The man made a short salute and closed the doors behind him, leaving the room empty except for two. "It's a rare treat the Hôgmarshalk herself rarely can indulge in..." The man said as he placed the glass on a wooden table, the leather armchair making a murmering protest at the shifting of weight.

Stâhlfalk felt more pleasant to be around, warmer, even friendly, though it was impossible to put a finger on what about his behaviour had changed. His face was devoid of emotion and his tone as cold as it had been during the negotiations. The man continued "The berries of the Svartbladsbuske are left till winter and then harvested, making the final product much sweeter and removing much of the bitterness you'd normally find in a soldier's ration." he more mused to himself than explained to Falkhurst.

"Sadly Valarisk gastronomy is not the reason I invited you. It would be a waste of both your and my time." Stâhlfalk paused as he picked up a leather binder, but was content with simply drumming his fingers against the top as it rested in his lap. He stretched his hand towards a box and plucked a thin, but long cigar. "I hope you do not mind." He said and lighted it before reciving an answer. "May I offer you one?" He said whilst presenting the box within arm's reach of the Iryllian General.

[Iryllia]

Falkhurst reclined, glass in hand with the firelight glinting off his uniform, he struck an imposing figure in the twilight of the room. His teeth glinted as he smiled. "It's a very..." His hand motioned as he pretended to find the word. He was somewhat nervous at this meeting, not in the fact that he was alone. That he was perfectly happy with, to be away from those two argumentative dictators was refreshing, especially now of all times. "Harsh, yes. Harsh drink."

He nodded along with the Valarisks musings. Taking no small satisfactions in the undertones of his grumblings. A twitch, minor, undetected by the firelight in the shadows of his face, He was certainly used to being ignored yet it did not mean he liked it any less. Stâhlfalk was an interesting man, a puzzle, to Falkhurst. While anyone is mellowed by drink it does affect in different ways. He loved being around drunk people, they gave away secrets so candidly, with little pressure and while Stâhlfalk himself was far from it, the officer was significantly more relaxed, far easier to read and most importantly. Not bored.

"Shame," He replied to the passing comment. "It seems like such an interesting topic." He leaned forwards as the binder was picked up. The firelight now picked out his face in full relief. Falkhursts green eyes glinted, deep wells of black surrounded by stripes of jade on a field of white. Subtle scarring ran extensively down the left hand side of his face, extending from the hairline to jaw. High cheekbones and a sharp chin gave him a cruelly handsome look, harking back to the days of old aristocracy as his namesake suggested. His chair barely whispered as he leaned forwards, accepting the proffered cigar with a gracious nod of his head. "You honour me, with fine drink and a good smoke." He spoke with a flourish, lip almost curling as he spoke. "And while this activity itself is most certainly pleasurable. It is not in fact the reason I was brought here now was it?" His tone was inquisitive, a hint of insolence.

From his pocket he retrieved a small matchbox, striking the match revealed for a moment, the portion of his face left in shadow. It was as one would expect much the same as the left side of his face. The same subtle scarring ran over his cheek and down his neck. The smoke wound its way lazily up towards the ceiling and he inquired. "I imagine this to be the sort of place for history to be made. A dark, smokey room between two gentlemen who understand how all this works, so what's in the folder?"

[Myraxia]

The rooms provided for the Myraxian delegation were both well furnished and well stocked with food and drink - neither of which the visiting delegates were used to. Fyrev uneasily reclined in a high-backed leather chair, shifting awkwardly against the unfamiliar material. "So... how do you think that went? "
The woman across from him smiled. "I think, Fyrev, that the Iryllians have no intention of keeping any promises they make here. They agreed far too easily to the terms we laid out - yes, they protested, but that was mostly for show. They'll use the opportunity to withdraw their men, fob off the Chargrenites with platitudes and promises, and sign off on whatever treaty these negotiations come up with - but they won't keep to it for long. They know it, we know it, and I wouldn't be surprised if the Chargrenites know it as well. "
"So what exactly -, " Fyrev paused, and started again. "What exactly is the goal of these negotiations then, ma'am? "
"We need the time to rearm as much as they do, Narael. This peace won't last - it was never supposed to. "

--

Outside, a pair of Myraxian marines stared down their Chargrenite counterparts - despite the delegations protests, their hosts had refused to leave them to their own devices - but had conceded to remaining outside. One of the Myraxians - a Private, by his insignia - without breaking eye contact, spoke to the other. "I wonder if they've seen any combat? Wha'd'you reckon, Sarge? "
"Doubt it, Rynael. Now shut up. "
The Private - Rynael - grinned, and popped his lips. "How about it, boys? " He spoke to the Chargrenites. "Seen anything? Gotten down and dirty in the mud? Or d'you just sit here in this fancy palace all day guarding fancier people? "

--

Nykona continued speaking, scribbling in her notebook as she did. "We'll drop the tonnage limit, get things rolling quicker with this treaty so we can all get back to the actual business. " She tore out a page and turned to a nearby marine on guard duty. "Corporal, take this to... Baccus, I think, the Chargrenite. "
Turning back to Fyrev, as the marine exited the suite, she continued. "I'd like to speak to him privately before we resume tomorrow. Now, dinner? I don't have the taste for these local dishes - too rich. "

[Valyrien]

The officer and her aide had roamed the halls, light gray leather binder under her arm and a cigarillo burning in the corner of her mouth. With her dark grey uniform loosely buttoned and sleeves rolled up, she looked... less proper than she'd done carrying the banner during the negotiations. The two Valari rounded a corner and Natashja saw the Myraxian and Chargren guard. "Finally.." She muttered, relieved to have finally find the Myraxian delegation and blew one of the loose locks of hair out of her face. "Surprised, look... Surprised..." The thought slowly forced itself into her thoughts and even slower into action as she sensed a slight tension in the air. Her brow, the one that could be seen, slowly arched to create a puzzled expression in order to hide her thrill of possibly seeing a fight brake out. Though her pale red-ish pink coloured eyes beamed with expectation.


There was quite a few things "off" with the Valari slowly sipping his brandy, smoking and the slow, but constant tapping against the leather surface of the folder. His complicated personality could have been expected of a Valari since they rarely let outsiders to peek through their facades, but his physique was very strange for a high-ranking officer. His body was slender and not as well-maintained as others of his position, and strangly he did not bear any signs of mutilation. Stâhlfalk's light green, sharp and energtic eyes set in the darkened, tired hollows of his face was rather unnerving. Too young for his aged exterior, suggesting he's sacrified something other than limbs for Valyrien.


"With a few strokes of the pen, it could be anything I want it to be." Stâhlfalk said with a vague, but intended sense of disdain in his tone.

[Iryllia]

"Anything... You, want it to be?" Falkhurst reclined, looking hurt. "You make it sound like I have no say in the matter." A wisp of smoke joined the steadily gathering cloud hanging about the rafters. "Since you invited me here, you hold the cards and you seem to be making the decisions around here. So that puts me in somewhat of a sorry spot does it not? Since I don't know why you called me here expect for some politically, morally dubious agreement and pact signing that may or may not involve blood rituals and sacrifices. I can't comment on how you Valari do things up there. It's certainly different to us. Perhaps a cultural exchange is in order? Though I can't imagine it'd be very pleasant for both sides. Does more than four hours of sunlight kill Valari?" He smiled thinly, meeting Stâhlfalk unsettling gaze, a joke that did more to build the tension than sever it. The consistency of the air between them turned from cold butter to mildly warm steel.

[Valyrien]

"It does, though as nice of a spot one could ask for." Stâhlfalk answered, completely ignoring the later half of his statement. "I will see Valyrien on the other side of this conflict as a victor, not only with seasoned meat, but a stable future as well." The words being uttered in a tone with increasing harshness. "Valyrien would not see you, Iryllia, too weakened by these negotations, nor would we have Myraxia leave with nothing to rebuild their strength... The fires you start between yourself keep you minds too occupied for the notion of spreading it to my home and we would see this status qou kept. We are prepared to offer Valyrien as neutral party to oversee that the terms we decide on are fullfilled, or claim that we are, as might be preferred.

[Chargren]

The two Chargrenite Royal Guards stared back at the Myraxian marine private unmovingly, offering no answer to his question. Undeterred, he laughed and continued. "I bet they know which fork and knife to use here better than their weapons too. Which one is it for salad again? The big one or the little one?"

"That would be the outermost one, private," a deep voice rumbled. "And I would appreciate if you would refrain from trying to goad my men while you're here." Private Rynael looked to his left to see who had spoken and nearly jumped when he saw the man in full Chargrenite combat armor standing next to him. Standing well over two meters tall, he towered over the Myraxians, yet had appeared beside them without them even noticing his presence. "Now, the two over there," he said, addressing the two Valyriens who were watching, "what is it that you need?"

---

Lord Baccus sat at his desk, looking over his notes on the day's proceedings, when he heard the knock at the door. Putting down his notes, he stood and opened the door to see the sergeant of his Royal Guard squad standing at the door, along with a Myraxian Marine. "Message for you from Marshall Nykona, sir," he said, indicating the piece of paper the Myraxian had.

"Ah, of course. Thank you." He nodded to the Marine as he took the paper looked it over.

A private meeting, hmm? he mused to himself, looking over the note. Well, I should hear what she has to say.

"Thank you for this, Corporal. You may tell the Marshall that I would be happy to meet tomorrow beforehand. My office is open to her whenever she may wish." The Marine nodded, turned and walked away, toward the Myraxian quarters. With a nod to his sergeant, Baccus turned and returned to his desk to resume where he left off in his notes.