Of Skin and Scales (PRIVATE)

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Quisling stared at the monsterous being. Finally he gulped and said, "Your majesty, I hope this is a trick. If not, do you realize what this means?" He turned to face the King. Outside, explosions and gunfire rocked the ground. "We are both Christians. How does this-" he pointed at Juvon- "fit into God's word?" Anton Quisling stared at the King for several moments. Suddenly a wild look came across his face.

"It is the end times! That Alien outside who is hacking away at your would-be-assassins is the antichrist!" Quisling's eyes bugged out of his head and he tore his phone out of his pocket. Quickly dialing a number, the ambassador held the device to his ear. A smooth voice answered. "Ambassador Quisling! This is Rolf von Shirach, the Grand Duke's secretary. What can I do for you?"

"Get me to the Grand Duke! This is urgent!" Quisling barked back. There was a long pause, until finally a hoarse voice answered. "My liege. Surely you have seen the reports; a coup, and the sudden arrival of aliens!" "Yes, ambassador, I have heard." Quisling relaxed a bit. "I have witnessed them first hand. Your majesty, there is an alien king outside of the bunker I am in, and I am convinced that he's the antichrist! We must destroy him before it is too late!"

The grand duke mumbled back an unconvinced reply. "Your highness, please think about what I've said!" Quisling ended the call and immediately dialed another number. "Quisling here! I want all of the men you can muster to get to the palace! There has been an attempted coup, and there is an otherworldly being here taut must be... eliminated." He ended that call too. Turning to Foley, he said, "That was the embassy. A Stoßschutz crack team should arrive soon to destroy the demons. Don't worry your majesty; we are safe.

Quisling looked at Juvon. "As for you! A servant of the Devil? You deserve death!" Quisling reached into his pocket and removed a small pistol, which he kept for safekeeping. Aiming it at Juvon's head, the ambassador said "Your highness, with your permission I will execute this servant of evil, so that you will be safe!"

[New United States of Columbia]

Before Quisling or Juvon could do anything stupid, Foley disarmed Quisling, grabbed him and Juvon's heads, and smacked their heads together.
"Have you two lost your minds!?" Foley shouted angrily "You, Quisling, automatically assuming they're servants of Satan WHEN I TRUST THEM TO BE IN THE SAME ROOM AS ME AND MY FAMILY!?"
He then turned his attention to Juvon.
"Don't think that I am going to spare your scaly ass from crititisism just because I trust you! There is much I can criticize! You use what are, indeed dark and anti christian powers, and then expect us to be just fine with it!"
He stopped there if only because a Columbian military officer opened the thick metal door and informed Foley that the officers were expecting him.

The Leiutenant looked at the map of the city when he heard the location being crackled in over the radio. He traced and marked the location on the map. He gave the signal. The cannons spit fire towards the heavens.

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Quisling stared up in shock at the King, his pistol falling to the floor. "Surely you can make the connection, your highness. The antichrist will have the power to make whole nations bow to him, before they even realize who he truly is! These aliens have deceived you! They will impress you by defeating this coup, earning your trust, and you will fall under their evil influence! Even a good Christian like you can be deceived, if he does not listen to the Lord!" The ambassador backed up from the King, and reached down, picking up his pistol and holding it limp in his hand. "Please see reason, your grace, lest you and with you all of Columbia fall under Satan's influence!"

Outside six hulking black SUVs, all heavily armored, roared up to the palace, Capilean Stoßschutz soldiers in full riot gear and clutching assault rifles hanging off their sides. As soon as the vehicles bucked to a halt on the palace's perfectly manicured lawns, the men leapt off, and all thirty of them began sprinting towards the grand building's entrance way. Gunning down a few lightly-armored enemies just inside the palace, the group proceeded and was joined by five more men holding rocket launchers. A team of power-armored Columbians barred the entrance to the throne room, and as the Stoßschutz extraction team neared several dropped to the floor, torn apart by the enemies' high powered laser gattlings. But instantly five rockets smashed into the unfortunate plotters who guarded the doorway, and they were all smashed apart by the impact.

Barreling past the charred remnants of the enemy squad, the extraction team rushed into the throne room and were met with chaos. Instantly the Capileans recognized their special target; a demonic figure looming over the fight. The group spread out, taking positions behind cover and gunning down any enemies they saw. The five soldiers with rocket launchers blasted apart groups of enemy soldiers before focusing on their primary target. Aiming precisely, the five soldiers fired simultaneously at the monstrous being, and five rockets sped towards it.

Meanwhile, the footsoldiers of the crack team fanned out, their numbers now reduced to twenty-two. Six pushed their way to their target, and switching their guns to full automatic, began to fill it with dozens of magazines. The rest rushed out of the building and towards the bunker. Reaching the secure place, four men burst in and pushed past an officer while the rest kept watch outside. The soldiers entered the bunker with their guns raised; they formed a semi-circle around Quisling and the High King, keeping their guns trained on Juvon. Quisling saw his chance and took it. "There is another one of the demons!" he shouted almost gleefully. The four Stoßschutz men glanced at each other and then raised their guns until they were level with Juvon's head. "High King Foley, we will eliminate this demon and then get both you and Ambassador Quisling to a more secure place, away from these... things."

[Dyste]

Tensions were raising the bunker, causing Juvon more annoyance. He didn't seem bothered by Foley trying to hit this other human's head against him, it didn't hurt, but he still growled at him. Again with these 'Satan' and 'Christian' remarks. What on earth did they mean by those? He surmised it had to deal with the local religion. Were they really so arrogant in their assumption that everyone had heard of their faith? Worse yet, did they seriously believe anyone not of their faith was a monster? That was a dangerous way of thinking, one that he had heard many nations use to impose their will on others. "For one thing, my powers are not 'anti-christian'. They are based on natural biology and physics, and involve..." but he realized that they weren't even listening.

Before he had realized what had happened, it appeared that this minister had called people to point guns as them. But that was not what finally broke him, "What did you call me?! I AM NOT A DEMON!" Juvon seemed to be genuinely offended by this remark more than anything else said so far. "Demons are evil creatures who kill innocents and corrupt people! They are no friend of Dyste, I can assure you of that!" While he had never personally seen a demon, he had heard the tales of the demon attacks in Mystria, and his king's efforts to stop them. It seemed at least these people were aware of demons, at least, just that while they took many forms, draconic creatures were not one of them. "If you truly wish to have a proper discussion, you can start my not trying to kill my king, failure as your feeble attempts will be to do so!"

With regards to attempts to kill Tyroth, his perception was keen enough to see the rockets firing. Unbeknownst to the soldiers, this was in fact one of the least effective ways to deal with a Draconid; the power armored troops were closer to that. There were a multitude of ways he could deal with projectile weapons that exploded upon impact, but he naturally chose the one that most relied on instinct. Taking a deep breath, he spewed a breath of purple flames at the missiles, causing them to explode before they reached him. "Fools! Your silly shooters are useless against me! Flee now, before I make you myself!" He turned his sceptre into a chain, able to fire at a distance; not much for attacking, but enough to, say, grab a rocket launcher from an opponent.

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Royal Palace

---

The soldiers gaped as the rockets that they thought would tear apart their target exploded in the beast's flaming breath. The men with the rocket launchers started to stumble backwards, but an officer wielding a pistol shouted them down. "This abomination is no match for us! Destroy it!" he spat. The men fanned out, taking up multiple positions so as to catch the "demon" in a deadly crossfire of rockets. Once again they fired all at once, and more futile missiles hurled themselves at Tyroth. The men who had been wasting ammunition on the Draconid monarch stared at him, amazed, and then began to scurry away from the foe before he could slaughter them. The same officer who had steadied the rocket-wielding soldiers caught sight of their retreat and ordered them to destroy his target. The usually suicidally brave Stoßschutz troopers gulped and trotted back towards Tyroth, raising their assault rifles and once again spewing lead at him.

Meanwhile, in the bunker, the Capilean troops facing Juvon listened while the creature argued with them. Hesitantly they began to lower their guns. Anton Quisling stared at them, perplexed. "What are you doing! I ordered you to kill that monster!" he barked. One of the soldiers turned around to face his superior. "With all due respect, sir, perhaps we should detain this... thing, before we do anything drastic. The High King seems to trust him. Quisling paled, and his eyes bulged. He seemed ready to argue with the Stoßschutz man, but finally nodded, fuming. Two of the guards stepped forward with handcuffs. "Please don't resist. This is merely a security measure; we need to get all of you out of here," one of them said. The others escorted Foley out; Quisling lingered. "Don't think you've escaped, demon!" he said to Juvon. He spat at him before following Foley out of the bunker.

Once outside all of them broke into a run towards the front of the palace; the thunder of battle drowned out all other noise. Fifteen of the Capilean soldiers stood guard as the rest ushered Foley, Juvon, and Quisling into the black armored vehicles. Hopefully they could get everyone out before those orchestrating the coup knew what was happening.

[New United States of Columbia]

Royal Palace

Foley stared at the guards Quisling called in with surprise. Even though he did almost at one point call for the deaths of his King he NEVER considered killing Juvon. Thankfully they had enough sense to not shoot at him. As he left he swore he heard Quisling call Juvon a "demon".
Great idea Foley thought insult a creature that can literally fry you.
As he got in the armored SUV he looked to see Juvon shrunk to roughly human size. Wanting to learn more about the Draconid, and wanting to try and relieve some stress, he asked Juvon a simple question.
"What do your parents do for a living? Are they nobles of a sort?"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Gladium shouted with surprise as he watched the Capileans shoot at Tyroth "CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE! YOU'RE SHOOTING AT FRIENDLIES!"
He had been, a second ago, executing wounded traitors that sided with the coup. Now, it appeared, he was trying to stop World War IV (if the 2nd War for Columbia counted as WWIII)

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Royal Palace

---

Ambassador Quisling was pushed into the same SUV as Juvon and Foley, a fact that clearly annoyed him. At least the beast was restrained. Six Capilean soldiers in riot gear piled in after them, keeping their assault rifles trained on Juvon. Anton was puzzled when Foley asked the demon if his parents were of the nobility. "You mean the aristocracy of hell? This demon cannot have parents- surely you can agree that this is an agent of the Devil, your Highness?" Outside the rest of the group of Stoßschutz soldiers climbed into the other two SUVs and the whole group began speeding towards the Capilean embassy compound, violating innumerable traffic laws along the way.

Back inside the palace the remaining members of the extraction team were busy throwing everything they had at King Tyroth. The officer who had been egging his men on turned to face Captain Gladium. "Gladium? Is that you? What the hell are you talking about?" shouted Captain Rupert Richter, a man that had visited the Royal Palace many times as part of Quisling's security detail. Before the power-armored officer could respond one of the Capilean soldiers began throwing smoke grenades all over the place. Within seconds the throne room was covered in a white fog, adding to the tremendous confusion. Capilean, Royal Guard, and putschist began bumbling around in the dense smoke, attempting to continue the fight despite that horrendous drawback.

[Dyste]

Royal Palace

In the bunker, it appeared that Juvon had some friends at least. Before he got too furious at this Quisling to fight back, Foley at least seemed to be trying to calm him down. "Nothing of the sort, Your Majesty; my father is a sculptor and my mother is a chef. But my grandmother is a prominent civil servant and a Sage - that is a title given to a learned person, I think you use something like 'doctor' for it." Jylah Infernos was the Minister of Culture, and a close friend of the queen, who he had recalled visiting the Academy on multiple occasions, though he himself had never spoken to her.

It seemed Quisling remained unconvinced of his good intentions. "Tell me, if I were a demon, why have I not attacked the king or any of you yet? I have had a multitude of times I could have. And if I had such powers, how would you be able to stop me?" He had read that most demons were resistant to most types of weapons, with cold iron and holy weapons being the most effective.

Meanwhile, Tyroth was dealing with some problems of his own; these bullets might not have been able to pierce his scales, but they certainly hurt. "This - ow - is getting - ow - ANNOYING!" In a weird way, he respected their bravery, but this could not be permitted to continue. Fortunately, help arrived as an armored figure of seven feet ran in blocked the bullets with its own body. The being was a creature of stone, wood and iron; Buckler, or 'Bucky', was not alive in the traditional sense, but rather an animated construct under the control of the king. "About time you showed up," the king, getting a reprieve, again launched his counterattack, aiming to disable the firearms instead of killing the soldiers. In spite of everything, he did understand that this was a mistake and desired to stop the assault. Grabbing the nearest assailant's gun, he crushed it in his hands, "Sorry, but I have had quite enough of being shot at for one day."

It appeared that Gladium knew one of the people trying to attack him. "If you had been paying attention, I have actually been trying to stop the members of the coup from reaching your king!" But someone had been foolish enough to throw some smoke grenade his way. In spite of his vision being impaired, he could still recall where the soldiers had been firing from, and using a mix of their weaker aim and Bucky's guarding, he worked his way towards other soldiers to disable their weapons as well.

[New United States of Columbia]

Royal Palace

Gladium looked at Richter in shock. Normally he appeared to be a capable captain. This wasn't one his finer moments.
Before Gladium could respond, however, smoke grenades by the dozen went off.
"Who the hell threw those smoke grenades! Whoever did I'll have his ass for dinner!" Gladium shouted as he started stumbling to wherever Tyroth was to try and keep him from attacking the Capiliean troops.

Inside the SUV Foley smiled upon hearing about Juvon's family. As he turned his attention to whatever blurred buildings he could see outside he muttered "Yes . . . He'll do nicely for her . . ."
After a minute or two of staring out the window he asked Quisling a few questions
"Why, exactly, do you believe these individuals of being demons? And, if I may ask, just where the hell are we going?"

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Royal Palace

---

The soldiers looked up in shock as one by one their rifles were torn from their hands and crushed. Richter swore at both Gladium and Tyroth's comment and began stumbling through the smoke towards the entrance of the palace. "Let's get out of here!" one of the Capileans shouted, and the usually stoically brave Stoßschutz men rushed out under the cover of smoke, terrified by the seemingly invincible figure before them. As the Capileans fled the scene the smoke was slowly beginning to dissipate, providing a clearer line of vision to everyone. With the Capileans gone the enemy again had the upper hand, though the coup was a failure at this point.

Quisling straightened his tie and turned to answer King Foley's questions first. "Your Highness, we are going to the Capilean Embassy Compound, a secure place where you will be safe from whoever orchestrated that coup and we can detain this... Juvon, is it?" He cast a dark glance at the Draconid. "And why do I believe he is a demon?" the ambassador continued, shifting his gaze back to Foley. "Well, these beings- who are clearly other worldly!- suddenly appear, showing their demonic powers to your grace, and are just in the nick of time to save you from the coup- earning your trust.

"If that is not enough evidence for you I suggest your reread your scriptures." Quisling turned to Juvon. "The answer to that is obvious. Of course you would not kill King Foley at the first chance, for then you would have all the Earth come down upon you. You will grow to be a trusted friend of his highness, slowly corrupting him from the inside and beginning to influence Columbian politics. Now, as we were being jostled around in that bunker, I was guessing your plan. To create Satan's kingdom on Earth, Columbia will unify with another great power, to create a New World Empire. Ten more nations will join you, all enemies of Israel..." Quisling droned on for the longest time, explaining that Tyroth and Juvon would deceive Foley into becoming a tool of Satan's, a puppet to ready the world for the Antichrist.

"We can still stop this, my liege. We can stop the End Times, if we do it now. If not, you will fall under this being's influence, and one day the sudden realization that you have doomed the lives of millions upon millions of Christians and Jews will come upon you.

[Dyste]

Royal Palace

Tyroth sighed in relief; he really did want to avoid harming these people if at all possible, and it seems they were dispersing. They had won... for now. After the smoke allowed him to see properly again, he moved towards Gladium, clutching his chest, "Seems I am a bit out of practice; if I was still adventuring on a regular basis, I doubt any of that would have hit me!" He was panting a bit however; while none of the weapons where making him bleed, he most likely would've have bruises if he had skin instead of scales. "Do not worry, I shall be fine. But are you injured? I tried my best to draw attention to me, but I was a little distracted when the bullets came." He wondered how Lissah was getting by, she was almost as tough as he was when she had her armor on and had more allies to aid her. Bucky walked over with the king, "I know he is not much, and frankly he is getting a little outdated, but Bucky here can still hold his own."

Meanwhile, in the SUV, Juvon was getting annoyed once again by Quisling. And more terms he didn't understand; 'Israel'? 'Jews'? Whatever the matter, it seemed clear that he was mixing up devils and demons. It was the former that would do a plan like this, demons were not that subtle by any means. They were just interested in destruction, not corruption. And if he was a devil, why would he so blatantly make himself to look non-human in a human land? But he chose not to bring this up, aside from ultimately being semantic by this point Quisling would likely consider it proof he was indeed a demon, in spite of the fact that Dystans were taught about such things specifically so they would not be trapped by these creatures.

"Let me ask you something, Quisling. In your eyes, are humans the only race that can be proper sapient beings? If you saw an elf or dwarf, would they be demons to you as well? If so, than does that not make you - what is that term you use... oh, yes! - racist? Certainly I am different from you, that cannot be denied. But if you are simply judging me based on my appearance and natural traits, then I would say you are the one corrupting His Majesty's views, not I!" He almost was about to accuse Quisling of being a demon himself, but he caught himself before he went that far. He really had no proof of that, and even if he was one, he wasn't sure he had anything he could use against him.

... or did he? He recalled reading that devils and demons hated the touch of silver, and that was one of the reasons Dystan currency was made of it. When the SUV hit a bump, he 'accidentally' dropped a few coins out of a pocket in his cloak, silver discs that had Tyroth's head in profile on one side, and the House of Blackfang Coat of Arms on the other.

[New United States of Columbia]

Gladium gave a nod in the affirmative to Tyroth as he slid down against one of the few standing walls. He was sore all over and wouldn't be surprised if he had several broken or fractured ribs from his run in with one of the power armor troopers.
"Anyone have some Med-X or a Stimpak?" He called out.
He then gave a look at Bucky. He laughed upon seeing him.
"Poor bastard looks like a good shot from a Tesla Cannon or a Rocket Launcher would take him out! Tell ya what, once this shit's over and Foley agrees to working with all of you's, I'll see if we can't get you some proper All-Columbian Power Armor! Best armor you can get unless you work with the Germans!"

Foley looked at Juvon's coins with interest. He picked one up and examined it. He then looked at both Juvon and Quisling. Their constant accusations and arguments were making him consider taking up the bottle. He pocketed the coin to examine later.
"Quisling, shut up about this nonsense of Juvon being a demon or this coup being a sign of the end times because, as the Lord said in Mark 13:32-33 'But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the Angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come.' Therefor isn't it a bit blasphemous to claim it is the end times with certainty?"
And with that he turned his attention to the driver.
"When will we arrive at the embassy? Juvon appears to be as exhausted as I am."

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Capilean Embassy

---

Quisling could have countered Foley, but he was more focused on Juvon. "An elf or dwarf? I am sure no such things exists- but if it did, then yes, I would assume that it would be sent by the devil! It is not 'rascist'- I would assume so because I am a Christian, and I cannot believe both in the word of God and the lies of otherworldly beings who are obviously deceivers!" Suddenly, as if to answer Foley's question, the SUV jerked to a halt. The doors opened and all three of them entered the Capilean embassy. The entire compound was surrounded by a barbed wire electrified fence which rose ten feet off of the ground.

A number of square, concrete buildings surrounded a tall, elegant one which was the actually embassy. Several black helicopters were lined up on the rooftop of one of the larger concrete structures. The whole place was swarming with heavily armored security personnel. Two Capileans wearing black suits and earpieces approached the group, trailed by five more men in riot gear. The first of the men in business suits stepped forward. "Ambassador!" "Schwann." Quisling turned to Foley. "This is Security Chief Phillipp Schwann. He will be making sure nothing touches us while we remain here.

"Now, will you please take, uh, 'Juvon' to Cell Block A, Schwann. Put him in one of the nicer cells- he appears to be friends with his majesty here- feed him, and then take him to solitary confinement and interrogate him. Thank you." Schwann, who was a big, hard faced man with piercing slate-grey eyes and neatly clipped light brown hair, obeyed and he and the other suited man frog-marched Juvon away. Quisling and Foley heard a loud rumble and watched as one of the helicopters lifted off and went in the direction of the palace.

Back outside the palace the six men had assembled in a half-circle facing the palace, pistols drawn and aimed towards the ruined structure's entrance. Their commanding officer, Captain Rupert Richter, had sent word to the embassy to get a helicopter to them as fast as possible. Within a few minutes a black chopper had descended behind them and all of the Capileans climbed in. The vehicle took off, steadied itself in midair, and then turned to face the Royal Palace. To ensure that all the surviving orchestrates of the coup were dead, regardless of the surviving monarchists who might be inside, the helicopter launched all six of its missiles straight into the building, gutting the once magnificent palace and showering whoever might be inside not only with fiery death but also with tons of rubble.

[Dyste]

Capilean Embassy

It seemed this embassy was to be their current place to stay, but Juvon's resentment of Quisling was increasing. And finally, he had to put his foot down. Being put in a jail cell yet again, even a nicer one, was intolerable. Instead of following Schwann, he planted his feet down and did not budge from his spot.

"NO. I refuse." He spoke with a snarl, just as angry as the demon accusations. "YOU, Quisling, do not get any say in my life. I have had enough of being moved around, put in cells and interrogation. I shall follow what His Majesty wishes, but any commands from you regarding me shall be ignored. I do NOT recognize your authority as Ambassador. Only the King's words matter to me." He looked over at Foley, his voice softening, "Your Majesty, what is it you wish? I will go with them if that is what you want, but if you want me to stay, I will stay."

Royal Palace

Tyroth laughed at Gladium's suggestion, but did not reject it outright. "I doubt you have a suit of armor that fits me, but maybe with some work with my technical advisors back home we can fix up something suitable for my frame." Looking over at Bucky, he slammed his staff into him, causing a dent. The damage healed itself after a few seconds. "You may be right about Bucky in some respects, but he has his uses. Actually, another nation I have met recently has been offering updates to him to get him more modernized..."

Before he could continue, Lissah rushed in with some soldiers, "Your Majesty! Something very wrong is happening; some people seem to be evacuating, and as your bodyguard, I am obligated to get you out of here!" She didn't know about the missiles, but there had to be some reason why the mood was changing.

Tyroth knew, however, that he couldn't just leave the soldiers on their side to their fate. He had to get them out. "I do not think we have enough time to get to the shelter, and since I have not seen it, I cannot teleport people there... but I can take people outside. Everyone, if you wish to live, come with me!" Drawing a circle on the ground, he got ready to move everyone willing to the outside of the castle. He knew such a sudden transport of so many people would leave him weakened for a while, but with those healing options he could get be well enough to get everyone either to the shelter or wherever Gladium considered the better option. When Gladium was ready, he was to teleport them.

[New United States of Columbia]

Capilean Embassy

If Juvon thought he was the most fed up with Quisling, he was wrong. Foley looked as cross as a man could be. He glared at Quisling and gave out in a low growl:
"Quisling, as nice as it is to see you so concerned for me, this is not how you go about teaching the Lord's Word! He shall bunk with me! If you refuse or disobey my DIRECT ORDER I will phone the Grand Duke and send you packing to some miserable hellhole in Asia! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD!?"
He then turned his attention to Juvon softening his expression and tone as best he could.
"If that is alright with you, of course."

Royal Palace

Just as Gladium bore witness to Bucky's regenerative ability he shook his head.
"You hit him. There's a big difference between that and-"
He shot at Bucky repeatedly with his Plasma Defender, turning one of Bucky's arms into radioactive green goo.
"This!"

The troops that had "followed" Lissah looked exhausted and on the verge of collapse. Gladium shook his head at the sight.
"No wonder we needed your help," he said indirectly to Tyroth "when these are the best Columbia has."
He managed to get himself to stand after he injected a Stimpak into his legs. He barked orders at the other remaining Guardsmen. As they all (or, more accurately, everyone who could fit into Tyroth's circle) packed themselves in like Sardines Gladium noticed the Capiliean Helicotper shooting at them.
"TYROTH! WHATEVER YOUR DOING DO IT NOW!" he near screamed at the Black Fang as he leapt onto Lissah, forcing her underneath his power armor suit as the missiles gutted the building and caused the Throne Room ceiling to collapse ontop of them.

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Capilean Embassy

---

Anton Quisling was of Nordic descent and stood a few inches taller than the High King at 6'5'. He remained unfazed as Foley attempted to shout him down. Taking a deep breath, the Ambassador responded. "Your majesty, I think this is a matter of much importance. However, if you insist, I will allow 'Juvon' here to roam free- provided you grant me a favor. Do you not think it strange that on the same day you met these creatures that a coup was launched? We should interrogate Juvon- without the use of force or intimidation- you know, questioning is a better word. But anyways, purely for security reasons, we should at least question him."

Secretly Quisling knew that Foley's threat was empty. During the past year he had weeded out his security corps so that only officers loyal only to him were here; even if Foley did contact the Grand Duke, no one would obey his order. Quisling would have gone, rogue, sure, but by that time these demons would reveal themselves and Hans Wilhelm would know that Quisling had been right all along. Schwann's right hand was splayed across the silenced pistol that was hooked into his belt; should this creature resist any longer, a good shot to one of his limbs would subdue him.

The helicopter, satisfied with its work and sure that everyone inside the palace had been slaughtered, swerved upwards and sped towards the Capilean embassy. Landing on one of the many helicopter pads in the compound, Richter jumped out and made his way to Anton Quisling's quarters, a secure bunker. He had received order via radio to report there as soon as possible. The dimly lit room was filled by a large wooden dining table, around which all of the embassy's officers except for Schwann, the Security Chief's deputy Reitz, and Quisling himself.

[Dyste]

Capilean Embassy

Juvon breathed a sigh in relief; in spite of his size and anger, he didn't know if he had it in him to harm these humans. "Your Majesty, I am most grateful for the offer, and I accept it." He knew he could trust Foley enough; while he did not intend the silver test for him, it did at least prove that he at least was no demon or werebeast (not that he believed those existed here anyways).

He did wonder what sort of thoughts went through these humans' heads. He did take a class in Telepathy, the art of reading thoughts, but it was a rather difficult art, and usually required both physical contact with the person and their consent in doing do. For now, he supposed he just needed to understand by the words they spoke rather than the ones they didn't.

Royal Palace

While it would overexert him further, Tyroth tried his best to increase his teleportation area of effect to include as many soldiers as possible, before the ceiling was to fall on them. With a flash, they were no longer in the castle, instead about a kilometre away from it.

"Gah... I hope... you are all... alright..." Tyroth fell to one knee, panting; as they were not mammals, Draconids were incapable of sweating, but he most likely would've if he could. "Guess I'm... a little out of shape... hah..." granted, he did have a bit of a gut, but his muscles tended to overshadow that.

"Lord Tyroth!" Lissah grabbed the arm of her king, helping him up, with Bucky grabbing the other arm; while his arm seemed to have partially repaired, it was warped and misshapen. "That took a lot out of you, didn't it?" She put the arm over her back, her armor showing some damage but still holding up. "Gladium, right? His Majesty will be fine with some rest; doing things like that takes energy like any other action. You know the place better than I, where should we go?"

Tyroth breathed in deeply. "Looks like we will have to repair Bucky later, that gun did a number to his arm. Either way, Gladium, thank you for the help. Were I still adventuring, I might have recommended you for honorary membership in my party. And for the record... some food would also be nice..." in spite of everything, he was most relieved that he managed to save as many soldiers as he did.

[New United States of Columbia]

Capilean Embassy

Foley gave a small smile to Juvon before he gestured for the Draconid to follow him. He walked past Quisling and headed for their guest rooms. He'd been here before a few times and knew where the guest rooms were.
After he entered the rooms he collapsed into one of the armchairs and watched Juvon closely. As he did so he pondered how effective his plan was. And as he watched Juvon his cheeks turned red if only because he was rather embarrassed to see Juvon only wearing a cloak and FINALLY noticing his lack of proper lower garments.
"Uh, Juvon," Foley asked "could you . . . Could you at least wrap a towel around your eh . . ."

Somewhere in Washington

Gladium rolled off Lissah. As he did so he was happy to see that, whatever Tyroth did, worked as he saw blue sky and not, say, the collapsed rubble of a marble ceiling.
He stood up, attempted to brush the dust off his armor, and then looked over the other Guardsmen. Some were collapsed onto the street, looking exhausted, while others were checking their equipment, looking like they were going to wretch up lunch, or were just dazed and confused about how they magically got there.
He then turned his attention to Tyroth. Poor bastard was out of shape, he noted, and then noticed Lissah's race. He was about to ask just what the hell they were when he heard a sound he dreaded.
The sound of vehicles and energy weapons being powered up.
"Tyroth you idiot!" Gladium growled as he turned around.
What he found were two tanks, a few IFVs, a Lewis VTOL outfitted with rockets and a Gatling laser, two or three VTOLs that were the transport variant with a 5mm Minigun on the nose and two as side turret mounts, and several dozen non power armored and a dozen power armored soldiers with weapons raised at them. They were originally marching through the middle of Washington when they heard the groups sudden pop into existence.
"Drop your weapons!" One of the soldiers called out "or you will be killed for treason to the Republic!"

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Embassy

---

Quisling's lip twisted as Foley and Juvon brushed past him. "You'd better show up for questioning in half and hour!" he called after them. He turned to face Schwann and Schwann's deputy, Ernst Reitz. Turning to Reitz, who was a smaller, hot-headed man with beady brown eyes and a dirty blond hair, he addressed him. "I want both of them watched at all times. Everything they say and do must be recorded." Reitz nodded and rushed off to the control room, where video monitors displayed all areas of the compound. "Phillip, I trust you got the memo?" Anton asked his security chief as the pair began a brisk walk towards his private quarters. "Yes sir," Schwann answered gruffly. "You will tell Reitz all the details after the meeting. This is of the utmost importance."

Exactly twenty-five minutes later Quisling had finished telling his officers of the aliens' demonic nature, and after answering their questions most seemed convinced. There were a few skeptics, but Anton could deal with them later. As long as Richter, Schwann, and Reitz believed him they could keep the others in line. Quisling had assured all of the men that soon the demons would reveal themselves, shattering all doubts. The ambassador began to walk towards Foley's room, ready to interrogate Juvon. Now the Ambassador just had to figure out how to destroy that demon and all of his kin.

---

OOC: Sorry for the shorter post, I just don't know what else to talk about.

[Dyste]

Capilean Embassy

Juvon was confused for a moment, "Er, around what? I do not understand... oh..." He used a spell to transfer part of his cloak into a wrap along his lower area. It was not like his 'parts' were even visible, but he didn't wish to cause Foley any more stress.

The young Mage-in-training shook his head, "Sorry, human customs are still new to me." He knelt on one knee to him, so they could be at eye level. "Thank you, your Majesty, for all your help. I know I have been a burden, but I am grateful for your efforts to keep me safe."

Somewhere in Washington

Tyroth's and Lissah's relief washed away when they saw the forces. "SILENCE!" the Orc yelled at them; it wasn't magic, but it did catch them off-guard enough for everyone to get their bearings. With regards to their weapons, Lissah's axe and Tyroth's staff were conspicuously absent.

"Hey... give me a break... I just fought several... people... even power armor..." It was unclear whether Tyroth was talking to Gladium or the forces, since either one worked in context.

"Look, I know you don't know how teleportation works, but we can't actually see where we are going," Lissah seemed more annoyed at Gladium's remark than the Republic forces. "Teleporting that many people in such a short time is really advanced, I certainly couldn't do that many. With that amount, the only options would be a relatively short distance or at an established place, like back home-" she sighed as she realized. That was of course their method of returning home after they had settled things, but they intended to do so after they had gotten Juvon. "Look, I am sorry, but just as you must serve your king, so must I. As a bodyguard, his safety comes first for me, and I cannot let these people take him..."

"Lissah... cannot leave yet..." the king spoke, before being cut off again.

"We can send soldiers to get Juvon, like we should've to begin with, if it comes to that," Lissah spoke, "But right now, I have to think about you. You have my sympathies, Gladium, but this is not our fight. We have to withdraw out of here." she prepared the spell, much simpler than the one Tyroth had used, "... unless you have some sort of idea how to get out of this? If not, I'm afraid that this is goodbye."

[New United States of Columbia]

Embassy

Foley gave an awkward smile at Juvon.
"You're not a bad burden. You seem nice enough."
He paused and, as an attempt to be friendly, stroked and patted Juvon's muzzle, hopping he wouldn't mind.
"Forgive me if this seems awkward but . . . Before things went horribly wrong did you enjoy your stay with my family and I?"

Washington

Gladium was about to pull out his Plasma Defender and shoot Lissah for threating to abandon them after all the shit they've been through when he heard it.
Someone discharged their weapon.
For several seconds (to him) time was still as a horrific realization hit him like a freight train.
Then . . .
"FIRE!"
Laser and Plasma shots rang out. Screams of horrific agony as guardsmen were torn to shreds, turned into piles of radioactive goo or ash, and smashed apart in violent ways by power armor troops.
Gladium was effectively running on autopilot as he did what first came to mind:
He shoved Lissah and Bucky aside (and, in Lissah's case onto the street), scooped up Tyroth in a bridal carry, and sprinted as fast as his power armor servos would go into the nearby Hilton Hotel. He smashed through the front doors, scanned the lounge for the staircase, and ran up it two steps at a time.
"KEEP YOUR DAMN HEAD DOWN!" He shouted at Tyroth "AND YOU DAMN WELL BETTER REMEMBER MY MEN'S SACRIFICE FOR THIS!"

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Embassy

---

Quisling decided to visit the control before checking up on Foley and dragging Juvon off to be interrogated. When he entered the room, which was covered in control panels and video monitors, he was pleased to see Reitz looking over the shoulders of two of his men, who were nervously watching the screens. All of them turned to greet Quisling, and he returned the exchange. The Ambassador peered at the screens in disgust. "He's talking to that thing like it's normal. Like it's one of us!" "Yes, and he's been doing that ever since we got here," Reitz commented. Anton wrinkled his nose. "Good work so far, keep it up," he said as he left.

Next was Juvon. He met Schwann outside of the guest suites and then the pair stormed up the stairs and through the hallways to the penthouse, which was reserved for visiting heads of state. Quisling rapped on the door before unlocking and opening it. Schwann instantly walked over to Juvon and began struggling to get the demon into handcuffs. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but we are here to question Juvon as we arranged." The Ambassador leaned out of the doorway, looking for someone else in case this got out of hand. Seeing two guards still in riot gear coming down the hallway, he motioned for them to come to him and then turned back to face Foley.

One last black Capilean helicopter was on its patrol, looking for any enemies of the state who might have escaped the palace, when they saw a huge firefight taking place in the middle of the city. Swerving off course, the chopper descended into the city, right in between a towering Hilton Hotel and a comparatively small bank. The pilot, one Artur Pfeffer, shifted uneasily in his seat as he identified the enemy forces and took aim with the six missiles his bird was carrying. "Alright, you boys get down their as soon as I launch the missiles!" he shouted back to the four man team that was ready to jump down into the street. Pfeffer took a deep breath and then pulled the trigger.

In the blink of an eye all six missiles shot off in different directions and plowed into their targets, sending tanks careening off onto side streets with their hulls smoldering and enemy soldiers flying into the air. The four armored troopers jumped out of the helicopter and hit the ground running, taking cover and sending fire into the gigantic pile of smoke and ash where an enemy force had just been; there might be some survivors. The chopper did the same, peppering that area with waves of lead from its dual mini-guns.

[New United States of Columbia]

Embassy

Foley was startled at first when the door was opened. He then saw Quisling and heard him talking about interrogating Juvon. He growled at Quisling "We didn't arrange shit, Quisling!"
He then saw Schwann attempt to handcuff Juvon. Foley promptly lost it. He grabbed Schwann, threw him onto the floor away from Juvon, pulled out his .45 pistol, aimmed at the Ambassador, and shouted:
"GET AWAY FROM MY SON!"

[Dyste]

Embassy

Juvon purred at the muzzle patting, rather enjoying it. "That is fine, we actually like it." For the first time in a while, he actually seemed to be in a good mood, having been pretty lousy for a while. The question caught him off-guard, but he thought about it for a moment; all things considered, once he got to the castle things were good for the most part. "Your family and servants have treated me well during my time in your palace. I can say I quite enjoyed myself, your children seemed to like me well enough and you were quite generous. All in all, if that attack did not happen I was going to tell my king to try and maintain ties, since I did not want that to be the last time I saw you or your family."

But then Quisling barged in, asking for questioning. And then Foley called him his 'son'. Wait... SON?! What was he thinking? But he couldn't think about that right now... he had to stop the king from doing something rash. "Stop... STOP! Your Majesty, I will do the questioning, please!"

Washington

Tyroth may have been worn out, but he enough sense to use Bucky as a shield to protect people as long as he could, which admittedly wasn't for very long, before the shield guardian fell to pieces, before disappearing, back to the Institute for repairs. So much for his 'secret weapon', but then again, it did serve a purpose...

It allowed Lissah, pushed to the side, to get back up and fire a few beams of light before causing a shield to appear in front of her. While it wasn't as strong as the one Tyroth had put, it helped to stop some shots, though her armor got hit a few times. Apparently whatever her armor was made of was stronger than Bucky was, but damage to it was piling up. "GET SOME SHOTS IN, THEN RUN!" she shouted to the guardsmen, knowing her shield wouldn't last for long. In spite of her willingness to leave to get her king to safety, she didn't like the fact that she had to make that judgement call; as a Paladin, she was duty-bound to do good, though her first priority was the king above all else.

... of course, those people who she supposed were affiliated with the people who fired on the palace were attacking now. The most infuriating thing was, she wasn't sure if they were actually here to stop the members of the coup or them. She ran a bit of a risk doing this, but these people were too much to deal with normally, and while she could flee the other soldiers could not. "For the love of... WE ARE NOT THE ENEMY! STOP FIRING ON US!"

For his part, Tyroth was too tired to really resist Gladium's efforts to take him to the hotel, though he noted the strength of the armor, seeing as he was even heavier than he looked. He made a reminder to himself to reward Gladium for this, though he wasn't sure how yet.

[The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile]

Schwann fell to the floor, surprised at Foley's reaction and caught off guard. Quisling backed up, his eyes wild. "Foley! Think very carefully about what you're doing! Please!" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Phillip Schwann pry the closet's rod out of its socket and creep up behind the mad king. "Please, your majesty!" Anton pleaded, buying himself time. Suddenly Schwann sprang up and shouted "Maybe this will knock some sense into you!" before swinging the metal rod at Foley's head. There was a sickening crunch as it connected with the back of the High King's skull and the man dropped his gun, swayed about, and finally crumpled to the floor.

Quisling stepped forward and snatched the gun, bringing it level with Juvon's head. "Don't move." Just then the two troopers burst in. They stared in shock at Foley's body. "This thing has gone mad, and attempted to kill the High King," Quisling said. "Put the whole base on alert, and order all personnel to proceed to Fort Perry Nuclear Missile Silo." This time he spoke to Schwann, but he kept his eyes fixed on Juvon. "Now, you two escort both of them to a secure transport, and take them to Fort Perry." The two riot troopers, still in shock, stepped forward with their assault rifles trained on Juvon.