Johrua - A Fantasy Faction Sandbox [IC • Open]

[Ihury]

JOHRUA
A Fantasy Faction Sandbox RP

OOC Thread
Theme: Gustav Mahler - Symphony No. 5

The Office
of the
Central Council of Ministers
of the
Johrid Empire

Twenty First of January, NE1190

　On behalf of HIH Nihei Anamuna, Crown Prince of the Johrid Empire, and of the imperial family, this Council, having acknowledged the most sorrowful passing of HIM Kanuri V Anamuna, Emperor of the Johrid Empire, hereby declares the Funeral of HIM the Emperor to be on the Twenty Seventh of January of this year, 1190 of the New Era, and the Coronation of HIH the Crown Prince as Emperor to be on the Twenty Ninth of January of this year, 1190 of the New Era.

　Foreign dignitaries seeking to attend the official proceedings shall convene in the Palace of the Straits on the Twenty Sixth of January, where lodging shall be provided. The official proceedings shall last until the First of February of this year, 1190 of the New Era.

　Long live the Emperor.

...

25 January, NE1190
9:45PM

Imperial Palace of Eunau
Hall of the Emperors

By the night of 25 January, the lying-in-state of the late Emperor Kanuri V had been wrapped up, with the palace guards locking the doors of the palace and leaving the surprisingly small imperial family alone inside the massive stone and quartz halls.

The Imperial Palace was built by Emperor Inauhu III Eunomia between the years 679 to 681, at a time when the Imperial Family numbered in the hundreds, at its peak reaching almost half a thousand members. Given that the main family and the closest of the collateral branches resided in Eunau, having a palace of that magnitude made perfect sense.

Upon the death of the final Eunomian emperor, however, a series of power struggles and betrayals had left the Johrid Empire in the hands of the tyrannical Emperor Arnesti I Anamuna, 66 years old at the time of his coronation, patriarch of the Anamuna branch of the Imperial Family, and a man who had long had his eyes on the throne. By the end of his first year in power, the other houses of the Imperial Family had been exterminated, and only the Anamuna remained. Consequently, the size of the Imperial Family drastically shrank, and by the time of Kanuri V's death, only four people remained in the Imperial Family; the 49-year-old Empress Dowager, who was not eligible to take the throne on account of her being born to a commoner family prior to marrying into the House of Anamuna; Kanuri V's 80-year-old elder brother, Prince Inauhu Anamuna, who also had never been in the line of succession owing to his being born blind; 17-year-old Crown Prince Nihei Anamuna, who would become Emperor Nihei VIII in just four days; and 13-year-old Prince Narin, the Crown Prince's younger brother, who was soon to become first in line to the throne.

Tomorrow, the Palace of the Straits, located beside the Imperial Palace, would be filled with dignitaries, hailing from the corners of the world to pay respects to the deceased emperor and to attend the coronation of Nihei VIII Anamuna. Before that, a deadly silence had fallen over Eunau, the lights of the central city blinding the darkened heavens, the lowly commoner areas outside dark and foreboding.

Crown Prince Nihei could see the cracks. Beneath the golden throne and the immaculate quartz and marble walls, beneath the splendorous coronation robes he would soon wear, there was one thing that was clear, and became increasingly so as he stood by the magnificent marble coffin of his father, hidden from sight by a simple black drape that engulfed the heavy sarcophagus, unadorned with any of the intricacies and decorations of the imperial vestments.

The Johrid Empire was dying.

“You can tell, can’t you, Narin?”

The Emperor-to-be and his brother pensively gazed upon the coffin. The halls, adorned with the portraits of the 73 previous Emperors of Johrua, lay in a state of silent, numinous night, the eyes of the emperors of old gazing out into the vast marble emptiness. To the right of the portrait of Emperor Kanuri V, right next to the door, was an empty frame; for the past week, Nihei had been spending six hours a day in the drawing room, as the officially sanctioned artist painted his visage upon a sheet of canvas; the day after the coronation, that frame would no longer be empty.

It seemed rather foreboding, then, that the empty frame occupied the final empty section on the wall. No more space existed for subsequent portraits.

“Are you going to be alright?” Narin looked up at his brother and asked.

“No.”

Nihei gripped his younger brother’s hand tightly, still unable to take his eyes off the coffin of his father, hidden under the dark curtain.

“Now that he’s gone... we have nobody to look to but ourselves”, he murmured, thoughtfully and solemnly running his other hand along the top of the coffin.

“What about Mother...?” Narin shakily asked. “Mother... and Uncle...”

Nihei sighed.

“When I become Emperor this Friday”, he said, “they can no longer be there for us. It will be up to me to govern these lands. To watch our backs.”

The sound of the Imperial Palace’s clock tower bells striking ten echoed through the walls and shook the marble pillars to the foundations of the building.

“But Nihei... you only receive full executive power when you...”

“I will do what I can”, said Nihei resolutely, “to rein in the ambition of those men.”

“Those men?” Narin looked worriedly at his older brother. “You don’t mean...”

“Listen to me”, said Nihei, pulling his deeply shaken brother close. The dark curtains covering the windows fluttered softly in the gentle night breeze, as pale moonlight filtered through the ornate bars and illuminated the maroon carpet beneath their feet. “Bad things are going to happen. I have no doubt. But no matter what happens out there, no matter where this leads... I will look out for you. No matter what.

“Now, go sleep. Till the morrow.”

...

---

26 January, NE1190
12:30AM

Third Meeting Hall of the Central Council of Ministers

The Central Council of Ministers of the Johrid Empire
Meeting III of the year 1190 of the New Era

Present:
Sir Dahmon Roquilas - Acting Chairman of the Central Council of Ministers
Sir Ausalm Istelnik - Secretary of Labour, Agriculture, and Industry
Sir Arenduli Astelvia - Secretary of War
Sir Hrustan Thalbraas - Foreign Secretary
Sir Euradjajan Junis - Interior Secretary

Absent with apologies:
Sir Amon Machisuri - Secretary of the Treasury
Father Baridze Amlin - Archbishop of the Arnihist Church

“As Acting Chairman of the Council of Ministers, I hereby declare the third meeting of the Central Council of the year 1190 of the New Era open. Let’s make this quick.”

The sound of papers shuffling filled the large room in which the five men had gathered. Illuminated by moonlight and candlelight, the Central Council (or rather, those who were present) had convened just shortly before the funeral to finalise plans for the week of ceremonies that was to begin the next day.

"I would like to propose", began Roquilas, the tall, tired-looking Acting Chairman of the Central Council, "that Edict III of NE1190 regarding the embargo of information regarding the death of Chairman Artenos be upheld, instead of the proposal by Sir Machisuri we discussed yesterday, and for news of the death to be released only one month after the coronation."

"Seconded", said Sir Ausalm Istelnik, the Labour Secretary, who looked rather like a skeleton. "It would not be good to have the coronation of the Emperor associated with more deaths than necessary."

"All those in favour?"

Five hands slowly rose into the air.

"Carried unanimously", Roquilas declared. "I shall inform Machisuri tomorrow of the change of-"

“I would like to propose”, interrupted Junis, a short, bald, portly man with a hooked nose and an ominous pair of pince-nez spectacles that often caught the light and obscured his eyes, “that for the duration of the funeral, in the interest of allowing the army to better perform its ceremonial duties, responsibility for the security of the city be transferred from the regular army to the Imperial Committee for Internal Security-“

“Objection”, bellowed War Minister Astelvia, who by all definitions was physically and temperamentally opposite of the brooding, sinister Junis. “My men have been stationed all over Eunau for the last nine years. What's the sense in replacing them with secret policemen who have no idea how to-“

“Yes, but those same men are going to be involved in the funeral, are they not?” Junis hissed back at Astelvia with a mocking, barely-concealable grin. “A funeral procession of three hundred officers and a funeral parade of nine hundred men, and then a coronation parade of fifteen hundred for the boy to inspect. Surely... surely... your forces are going to be stretched a little thin?”

“Junis, please r-“

“Thus”, repeated Junis, “I would like to propose for responsibility for the security of the city be transferred from the regular army to the Imperial Committee for Internal Security for the duration of the funeral.”

Acting Chairman Roquilas shakily dithered, but raised his hand after Junis glared at him.

"Four in favour, one against", Junis triumphantly said, cutting Roquilas off before he could even say anything, shuffling his papers and glaring sinisterly at Astelvia, the only one who had not voted in favour of the proposal. "Your votes have been noted."

"Does anybody else have any other... agendas... to bring to the table?" Roquilas asked.

The room was silent.

As if in a hurry, Junis gulped down the rest of his water, stood up, and straightened out his robes.

"We are done for tonight", he sneered. "See you all in the morning tomorrow."

...

"Don't you see? That bastard is using us all."

With the conclusion of the meeting, Interior Secretary Euradjajan Junis had packed up his papers and hastily left to his official residence nearby, but the remaining four had stayed behind in the hall on the insistence of Foreign Secretary Hrustan Thalbraas, an ugly, goblin-like man with hilariously-oversized spectacles. That he could become a member of the Central Council was no less than a miracle; the small, potato-shaped man, who spoke like a ruffian and always dressed sloppily, had somehow fought and backstabbed his way up the ranks from the office of a lowly bureaucrat to the top of the imperial government in just nineteen years.

"Hrustan, nobody needs your politicking", said Roquilas, waving his hands about haplessly. "The whole empire is in mourning. Soon we will be in celebration of the new Emperor. Act... solemn, respectful..."

"Who needs that?" Thalbraas screamed, exasperated. "The last thing this country needs is a crazy narcissist like Junis taking the helm."

"Our country is doing fine", Roquilas protested.

"Our country is slipping down a slope into the dregs, and you're part of the problem", Thalbraas spat back defiantly at the Acting Chairman.

He angrily waved the stack of papers he held in his hand in the face of Roquilas, who towered at least two heads above him, and then at the other two. Roquilas attempted to look firm, but his fear was evident.

"If you bastards are too blind to see it, now's a good time for you to open your eyes wide", he continued ranting. "We're not living under Nihei the Great anymore. I suggest you empty the shit from your pants and take a good long look at what's been going on. I am going to reform this bloated system, whether you like it or not, and if you don't like it, all of you can lick my ass-"

"Thalbraas, that's enough", snapped War Minister Astelvia.

"-or if it's too hard, if your pride is too big, you could just roll down the staircase and split your head open like that old geezer Amro did last week. Don't worry, I'll help cover up your deaths too."

And then Thalbraas, his face purple as an eggplant, angrily stuffed his papers under his armpit and stormed out of the meeting hall.

"See y'all in the morning", he huffed at the remaining three in the room, as he slammed the door behind him.

...

---

26 January, NE1190
8:00AM

Palace of the Straits (a three-storey palace made of quartz and marble, located between the edge of the sea and the Imperial Palace)

In the dead of night, while the Emperor-to-be and most of the bureaucracy fitfully slept, a retinue of Imperial Paladins, bodyguards of the Emperor, had quietly transported the body of Kanuri V Anamuna, encased in its marble coffin, from the main palace to the Palace of the Straits, an older building that had served as the official imperial residence prior to the construction of the new one, and now served as a reception area for dignitaries and a location for convocations between Johrid royals and foreign guests.

At sunrise, the gates of the Palace of the Straits were opened, and the honour guard of Imperial Paladins, clad in their unmistakeable white armour, lined the sides of the road leading into the massive main hall of the palace where the body of the previous emperor lay, awaiting the arrival of the dignitaries.

On the orders of Interior Secretary Junis, as per the meeting held by the Central Council the night before, the main army had been relegated to ceremonial duties, and responsibility for the security of the dignitaries fell upon the Imperial Committee for Internal Security, the feared secret inquisition of the Johrid Empire, which remained invisible, watching silently over the proceedings from the shadows.

In the days leading up to the official opening of the funerary and coronation proceedings, Interior Secretary Junis had organised things such that all attending dignitaries would arrive on the same day, preferably from sunrise till about noon, where they would be treated first to a lunch reception and an opportunity to view the body, and then ushered to their guesthouses to await the subsequent proceedings.

There were those who came before the doors to the palace were opened; they were received by lower-level officials and granted expenses-paid-for stays in official guesthouses outside the Imperial Palace's grounds. Then there were those who came on the first day itself.

In the main hall where the coffin lay, which for now was still empty, were the two young princes Nihei and Narin, the first of them to be crowned Emperor in just four days. Dressed in drab, dark colours, the two cut deeply mournful figures amidst the immaculately white marble, like blots of ink on a blank parchment. Standing outside the hall were the Central Council of Ministers, all seven of them who remained, likewise clad in black.

"I must apologise on behalf of Chairman Artenos for his absence", Thalbraas was heard apologetically explaining to the first few low-level dignitaries who had arrived from some of the Grand Johrid Protectorates. "He has taken ill with an infection of the lungs, and he does not wish to trouble anybody else."

Quietly gripping his younger brother's hand, Nihei slowly walked out of the palace, fighting hard to avoid looking at his father's embalmed body lying in its marble coffin and black drapes, standing out on the steps of the Palace of the Straits, looking out at the field and the gates as the representatives of the multitudinous nations slowly made their presence felt, to see the body of the man who had ruled the fading Johrid Empire for thirty years.

And, more importantly, to assess the boy who was soon to replace him.

...

[Ihury]

26 January, NE1190
8:10AM

Palace of the Straits

The delegation from the reclusive northern empire of Nishikuni was one of the first to arrive in Eunau. Dressed rather incongruously in heavy fur and leather, the three who had been sent to Eunau to pay their respects to Kanuri V and observe the crowning of the new Emperor cut a rather colourful, esoteric appearance, their bronze skin, silver hair, and golden eyes striking amidst the seas of taller and fairer Johrid peoples bearing darker heads of shorter, coarser hair.

Empress Nami of Nishikuni had sent her daughter to visit Eunau on her behalf. 27-year-old Princess Yuhiru, a refined young lady wearing fur and leather armour decorated ornately with the tassels and ivory ornaments of the Nishikuni imperial family, arrived early in the morning at the Palace of the Straits accompanied by two of her retainers, her long silver hair trailing behind her as she approached the gates.

Often, the appearance of Nishikuni delegations was a rather curious affair, with the brown-skinned and white-haired people, standing slightly shorter than most other humans, cutting an almost comical, exotic appearance riding atop their fuzzy horses, which resembled overgrown bushes. The reclusive Nishikuneans seldom made appearances outside their frigid northern territories, preferring to keep largely to themselves, and exporting and importing just whatever was necessary for their survival.

The ascension of Nami to the throne, however, came along with an increased shift away from the neutral, eremitic position of Nishikuni, a shift that was, in more ways than one, the culmination of several decades of displeasure at the increased prices of Johrid commodities and the tariffs thrust upon the few goods that Nishikuni did export. By the time Empress Nami came to power, it seemed, enough was enough for the otherwise quiet Nishikuneans, and it was on the first day of the funeral and coronation proceedings of 1190 that Nami had sent perhaps the most potent message to the Johrids and to the world.

Princess Yuhiru and her two-man entourage had arrived in Eunau on the backs of dragons.

In defiance of an old edict passed in NE616 which forbade Nishikunean dragons from being flown outside its lands, Empress Nami had dispatched her daughter and her retainers to Eunau on the backs of three elegant white dragons, their booming roars echoing through the subtropical air of the Johrid capital as they circled above the Palace of the Straits and, after a display of aerial dragonback acrobatics clearly meant as a display of power, landed in the courtyard away from the other dignitaries.

"Hakuo, look after the dragons. Ichizo, come with me."

As Hakuo, the taller of the two retainers, stayed by the side of the three dragons, which sat tamely on the ground and looked around curiously at the change in setting (some of the other dignitaries looked at them in awe), Princess Yuhiru and her second retainer Ichizo, a 50-something-year-old man with a white beard, headed towards the doors of the palace, stopping only to speak to the Central Council of Ministers.

"A pleasure to meet you", the princess calmly said, tossing her silvery fringe out of her eyes with an elegant flick of her head, as she shook hands and made intense eye contact with all seven members of the Central Council, starting first with Acting Chairman Roquilas (had she figured something out???) and Interior Secretary Euradjajan Junis, and slowly making her way to Foreign Secretary Hrustan Thalbraas, whom she greeted last.

Thalbraas was the only one of the seven who had noticed the manner in which Princess Yuhiru greeted them; she did not remove her glove when shaking hands with them, although Nishikunese cultural etiquette demanded it in formal situations. In addition, she also smiled, a faint, barely-noticeable ghost of a smile, completely uncharacteristic of the usually straight-faced, expressionless Nishikuneans.

And, of course, the most significant of all being the breaking of the 500-year-old law forbidding the flying of dragons outside of Nishikuni's territory.

Though he was short, fat, ugly, and tactless, Secretary Thalbraas possessed something that none of his colleagues in the Central Council had: experience in dealing with foreigners. Unlike the others, who had spent their time at the top cooped up in their grandiose offices, Thalbraas had travelled the world on trips (diplomatic and threatening alike), and had encountered people of many different cultures and traditions in his sixteen years as Foreign Secretary. Over time, he had learned to read small, often overlooked details in the way people of different backgrounds behaved. Nothing escaped his observation.

"It is, indeed, the beginning of a new era", Yuhiru commented diplomatically, speaking in flawless Johrid, though her soft-spoken, elegant mezzo-soprano voice sounded rather mismatched when speaking in the guttural Johrid language. "Hopefully one that serves to better the lives of all our peoples. My mother and my brother look forward to ruling alongside your new Emperor."

"Your paintings are beautiful, milady", said Junis, smiling at the Nishikunean princess. "I happen to have one hanging in my office. Highly masterful and exquisite."

"Why, thank you, Secretary. I'm honoured." There was a slight tint of mildly sarcastic exasperation in Princess Yuhiru's reply. "May I meet with the Emperor-to-be?"

"Of course", said Secretary of the Treasury Amon Machisuri, a stocky and muscular 61-year-old man with a badly-balding pate and goatee, casting a vaguely lecherous ogle at the 27-year-old Nishukunean princess' bust. "Please."

"Go speak to the other dignitaries, will you?" Thalbraas forcefully whispered into Roquilas' ear, tiptoeing just to reach his height. "They're not going to welcome themselves."

The hapless Acting Chairman Roquilas (still known to the world as Deputy Chairman Roquilas) made his way to other parts of the garden, along with Secretaries Junis, Astelvia, and Istelnik.

Accompanied by Thalbraas and Machisuri, Princess Yuhiru Aoki and the retainer Ichizo entered the main hall of the palace, where the young Crown Prince Nihei, ten years her junior, stood dignifiedly, ready to speak to his first royal guest.

...

THE GRAND JOHRID PROTECTORATE OF HAJERUS
Office of HRH the King of Hajerus

25 January, NE1190

The Central Council of Ministers of the Johrid Empire,

　I regret to inform you that due to unforeseen circumstances, I shall not be able to attend the funeral of HIM Kanuri V Anamuna and the coronation of HIH Crown Prince Nihei Anamuna.

　I will be sending Deputy Chancellor Zurab Phrangulisuri to attend the proceedings as my official representative and as representative of the Grand Johrid Protectorate of Hajerus and the Hajerusian people.

　Once again, my deepest condolences on the death of the Emperor, and my sincerest greetings to Crown Prince Nihei, to whom I wish a smooth enthronement and a successful, prosperous reign.

Yours Sincerely,
Anastas II
King of Hajerus

---

[Higher Japan]

Schwarzburg, 21st January NE1190, Confederate year 350

The rapid clicking of boots sounded throughout the palace at Schwarzburg, Crown Princess Valerie quickly walking towards the throne room as 2 Royal Guards, armed with muskets and dressed in the pure white of house Edania quickly followed behind as escort. Upon reaching the throne room, she saw that she was last to arrive as the 3 other reigning monarchs had already arrived prior and were standing at attention, their escorts standing at attention on the side of the aisle and likewise dressed similarly but in different colors. Nethia was represented in a red and black color scheme, Asvia a royal bright blue and Palladium a moderately dark shade of gold. At the side of the throne were 2 more guards, although they held a halberd at their side with grey colored armor.

"Valerie, good to have you here at last. I've called all of you here for a very important reason." Slowly getting up, Emperor Athos got down from the elevated platform holding the throne as his guards likewise followed him down. "Please, come this way." Slowly, each monarch filled out one by one, split by a 'line' which was their armed Royal Guards. Moving down towards the lowest level of the palace, the fire began to flicker and almost went out after god knows how many levels before the lowest level was reached. At this level, many members of the General Staff and it's various department staff were rushing about as a map hung on a massive board placed at the front of the room. It was a map of the Cantarellian northern frontier bordering the empire, all major routes, cities and bases of both sides marked out in either red for Cantarella or blue for the Empire.

New's of the death of the Empire's Emperor was of course both a shock and blessing to the entire military. It was a shock because entire plans, operations and logistics had to be redrawn but more importantly it was a blessing. Without any official emperor to lead and only a council, the entire operation could be redone and the date of accomplishment changed to an earlier date. The winter was bound to go long, most of the General Staff's 'Terra' department had reported as well that snow was inbound heavy this year, but with aviation on their side it shouldn't be too difficult.

"I've called the 4 of you here today because the Empire is crumbling, and it is time for the Confederation to make a move." Athos said to the 4 of them, leading them towards the map as a few arrows marked the route of advance. "Of course, we cannot just use a hammer to smash down a palace door when a mere punch would suffice. As such, Valerie and Maximillian, the 2 of you are to head an official delegation to pay respect to the emperor and deliver this." He pulled out a small letter, marked by a black wax seal of a rose. "Hanford and Yuria, the 2 of you are to remain here, the invasion must go perfectly as planned if it must come to this."

There was no objection or question, the 4 of them only nodding and bowing out as they were dismissed and left with their royal escorts.

Heavy airship 'Helena', 26th January NE 1190, Confederate year 350

"We're bound to arrive soon, please be prepared." The captain of the escorts called out to Valerie and Maximilian, the former sighing as she adjusted herself in her seat. The heavy airship Helena was the nameship of the Helena class Heavy Airships. Measuring out at roughly 160 meters, these airships were some of the war airship classes used by the Cantarellian Airship branch. These vessels could carry a full company of troops alongside a massive payload. Their speed was nothing to laugh about on top of this, cruising at 60 km/h and powered by 12 heavy steam engines with 6 on each side. It had been travelling for a few days since it left Impelis Airship Docks, a feat which was normal for the situation since including the royal escorts numbering 20 and the crew there were only roughly 104 men aboard. Of course, she wasn't without defenses. Certain sections of her body could have either crossbows or muskets mounted onto installed bipods to fire back against any ground forces if she was charged while on the ground.

Around the airship were some smaller variants, measuring out at about 75 meters. These were called the Centurion class airships. These weren't meant for long range expeditions, while the Helena had been sailing for a few days since her departure on the 21st and could continue on for longer, the Centurions were lightly armed and were only meant for short range operations. This meant that while the Helena could be launched from Imeplis Airship Docks, a major military dock close to Schwarzburg, her Centurion escorts had to be launched from the upper limit of the Cantarellian border at Grancia Dock and had to accompany her only when she passed by. They could match her speed at 60 km/h cruising with their 6 engines and smaller size. This resulted however, in them only being able to carry aboard upwards of 100 men with a lack of proper equipment to drop bombs reliably. This meant that their real jobs were to land close to the actual attack Airships and provide covering musket or bolt fire against any possible attempt at a ground assault, while their bottom hatch release allowed for them to drop supplies to ground forces.

Appearing over the Palace of the Straits, the Centurions turned around, currently at the limit of their maximum range including the return range. From the Helena, due to lack of proper docking facilities, a gondola was lowered down as the Helena began to descend. Upon reaching a sufficient height, the door opened as Valerie and Maximilian left, the former in a white gown with an added coat for the colder temperatures alongside a hostler for her flintlock while the latter simply came in his standard armor, although his cape's collar was lined with fur. Following behind them were Royal Guards, in standard armor save for the additional fur coats that they wore in either white or royal blue. They were still armed with muskets, although this time it was armed with a bayonet. After offloading 11 Royal Guards including the Captain the Helena slowly lifted off as it began to cruise above.

"The palace is just as grand as ever." Valerie muttered to Maximilian, turning behind to see the captain of the Royal Guards just coming out of the gondola as she was passed a walking stick, made from the finest wood from the southern cold with intricate carvings marking the entire body. Oddly enough it had no jewels, and there was a line some inches below where the handle ended on the body. Walking ahead and into the palace, she saw the men of the Central Council of Ministers. Approaching them with Maximilian, the 11 Guards and the 2 monarchs bowed in respect before Valerie spoke up. "A pleasure to meet you gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself. I am Crown Princess Valerie Edania, and this is Prince Maximilian Asvis. We are here on behalf of the Royal Confederation of Cantarella at the behest of the Emperor who expresses his regret at being unable to attend the funeral." She quickly scanned over the members, shaking their hands as Maximilian merely stood back, as if on guard along with the other Royal Guards.

Reaching the last member, the Foreign Secretary, she shook his hand, although it appeared with a slightly tighter grip. "I do hope that this new era does usher in peace and prosperity to come, we do also hope to maintain our friendly relations and for both states to prosper under your new emperor." Getting slightly closer down to his ear, she whispered in a slightly stricter, less gentle voice than used before. "Meet us after the processions in the courtyard. It is an urgent affair." Bending back upright, she once again smiled to the members as she bowed slightly before moving deeper into the main hall.

Reaching the main hall, there was a solemn mood within the group as Valerie silently made her way towards the young crown prince and once again as a sign of respect, bowed before him. Although this time, unlike the previous upright bows her bow was that of a Curtsey as she lifted her dress slightly with the bow to prevent it from touching the floor. "It is a great honor to meet you Prince Nihei." She said, no sign of hostility clear. "On the behalf of the 5 royal families of the confederation and the Emperor, we do send our condolences over the unfortunate passing of the Emperor. However, it is clear that we must move on. I do wish you a prosperous and everlasting reign of peace."

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

The airship certainly lacked the elegance that imperial warships usually possessed. Having been at peace for hundreds of years, the empire looked more for splendour and prestige in her airships than actual utility, at least when it concerned the Governate. Imperial warships were sleek and slender, with minimal protrusions and no open fires. This ship, however, clearly deviated from the norm. Not very strange, seeing as it was a Goblin-made vessel. The Goblins, unlike the imperials, were not as much concerned with outward appearance. The grey-skinned folk of the Southern Mountains almost worshipped efficiency, and looks were very much a secondary or even tertiary concern. The ship rumbled and coughed, spewing clouds of black smoke from her bellows, but she kept a steady flight and was quite speedy, which was partially why the governor-general had picked it.

The other was, of course, that the Governate had no warships to spare. Adebast Ludovicus needed all the armed ships he could muster. Everyone in the Governate knew that the Goblins were beginning to get rowdy. Disappearances, street fights, riots… They were happening with increasing regularity. Normally, a sweep of the Guard was enough to keep them under, but the Empire was in such a state that losses in numbers were not easily replaced, and if they were, it was with green recruits, and sometimes whole raw centuries of men, officers and all. The warships of the navy were necessary to fly from Goblin town to Goblin town, making sure men were transported where they needed to be and that the Goblins saw what they were going up against. The Governate had five of those airships at its command, and losing one would amount to a decrease in effectiveness of 20%, which was not tenable.

“We will be arriving at the Airdocks in about 20 minutes, sir”

The harsh tones of the Goblin captain would be considered raw and unrefined by people who had not spent five years in the vicinity of Goblins, but Adebast knew better. The ears of Goblins were attuned to the rattling of machinery and the grinding of gears, which made them such good mechanics. Their vocal cords thus produced a language that was akin to that rattling, which translated into guttural pronunciations of the far softer imperial tongue. The Goblins probably didn’t notice themselves, but it was one of those elements that made people fearful of the grey-skinned inhabitants of the Southern Mountains. The stuff of ghost stories one would tell children before going to bed. ‘Better eat your vegetables, or the Goblins will come down the mountains and eat you!’ The stories of cannibalism were hugely overblown, Adebast knew, although he seemed to be one of the few.

“Thanks, Ratisank” the governor-general said, not taking his eyes from the view he had from the cockpit of the airship. There, in the red morning sun, he could see the faint shimmering of glass of Eunau. The capital city of the Empire looked almost like the sea itself, which shimmered with a similar silver reflection. The harbour was abuzz with fishing cots and transport ships, and blimps and airships dotted the sky above the city. As the airship approached the city, more and more of its landmarks became obvious. Most impressive of which, of course, were the marble and quartz palaces, the Imperial and the Stairs Palaces. Although the city was basking in the light of the early sun, Adebast could not help but discover a faint darkness that loomed over it all, as if a mourning mist had covered it. As if the air itself was solemn.

“Have you ever been to the Capital, Ratisank?” Adebast asked, looking over his shoulder at the Goblin captain. A copper pipe hung from the lips of the creature, releasing a steady stream of thin white smoke into the cabin. As he turned the wheel to make the ship bank, the Goblin shook his head.

“Nah, governor. I have always kept my ship tidily to the Southern Shores”

Adebast nodded, and turned again to the majestic city that sprawled before him. Gods, how he had missed it. It had been two years since he had been there last, and all the memories came flooding back. Running through his parent’s orchard with his sister, and sailing a ship over the tepid waters of the straight, going down for a swim. The city lights at night, were you could get a drink for a copper and spent the evening in good company. Humans he had missed most of all. Most of those sent to the Governate were there for a reason. Concerning humans, it was mostly a full house of degenerates, antisocial loners and dissidents who were better kept far away from the capital, where the Goblins and them could kill each other off. Here, the city was full of life, full of light.

The airship came to a hover just above the Airdocks, a nice name for a grass field with a checker-pattern of hardened roads running through it, all around a central hub from where maintenance teams could operate. It was something else than the elaborate construction of the Spire atop Mount Imperial, where four levels of airships could dock at the same time. Here, it was just a field, which had to be situated outside the city proper in order to have the room it needed to expand. As the years progressed, airship travel became cheaper, and fields like this one had to be used more often. At the pull of a lever, the airship slowly started to descent to ground level, where ground crews were ready to bind the ship with a myriad of ropes. With a shudder the ship touched down on the ground, after which captain Ratisank clapped his hands together in delight.

“We’re here!” he said happily, as the sound of rumbling coal-fuelled engines died out. The Goblin captain shot out the cockpit, leaving Adebast alone for a moment. The governor-general smiled as he looked out the window, but that smile quickly vanished. Outside he saw a carriage coming in his direction, one which he recognised all too well. The personal carriage of Pellius Ludovicus, his father, came barrelling down the hardened paths of the Airdocks, drawn by two splendid horses. Adebast sighed as he saw them approach. He knew what would be following next.

As he exited the craft, followed closely by his Goblin captain, he saw the people who had come to meet him. In a perfect neat little row stood his sister, Brunda, in a perfect black and white dress, their mother and a more solemn brown dress, and their father, with a heavy black beard that obscured most of the lower half of his face. Their looks were telling: his sister and mother were excited, his dad was merely stern, following him with an almost disapproving look.

As he approached them, his sister was the first to break ranks. “Addy!” she shouted as she sprang around his neck. Adebast had to step back a little in order not to topple, but when his footing was secure he embraced her just as hard. After lifting her off her feet for a second or two, he put her down again, straightening his uniform afterwards. For his mother, he made a courteous bow, kissing her on the back of her hand.

“Mother” he said shortly, giving her a boyish smile after straightening again.

“Son” she answered shortly. The two had never much cared about the higher formalities, but they liked to tease one another by behaving very nobly when meeting one another. It was a kind of fooling around other people didn’t quite get.

“Father” Adebast said, ending the row. The two shook hands, and Adebast could feel the tight grip of his father through his leather glove.

“Son” his father responded shortly. With his dad, Adebast never knew if he was fooling around as well or if he was being serious in his formality. There was a moment of silence.

“Oh, Addy, what is that dreadful thing?” he heard his sister say. She was looking with big eyes at the airship, of which the balloon was slowly being rolled up into a more manageable sausage. That way, it could far easier be stored in one of the hangars. To their capital eyes, it must have looked awful. Before Adebast could answer, captain Ratisank had already jumped out from behind him.

“That, milday, is nothing less than a Mountaineer-class skysteamer! Crafted at the drydocks of…”

Before he could answer, the stern voice of Pellius Ludovicus overruled his guttural accent.

“Adebast, it would be better if you reigned in your servants more, lest they speak before spoken to”

There was a tense moment of silence. Adebast was immediately torn. He knew that captain Ratisank was very capable, and that he probably outranked his father in Goblin society. He was of old nobility, after all, while his father was a mere merchant. A proud Goblin, he would probably not allow such a slight without just compensation. On the other hand, Pellius Ludivicus would never bow before a Goblin, and his capital attitudes were extra pronounced in his disdain for other races. It looked as if the captain would jump his father, but before that could happen, Adebast got between the two.

“Captain Ratisank, perhaps it would be best if you stayed with the ship. The local crew might not know how to properly maintain her”

“That’s nonsense…” his father began, but a destructive gaze from his wife silenced him. Ratisank too seemed to weigh his options for a little while, but without saying anything he turned around and went back to the ship. Adebast was relieved, but he knew he had to apologise to his captain later. That would work better if his father never heard about it, of course.

A few moments later, the carriage was trudging along the checker paths of the Airdocks, following the roads that would lead to the Palace of the Straits. The sound of the carriage bumping from left to right was not nearly loud enough to hide the fact that there was an awkward silence hanging about the four people. Adebast’s relation with his father was not the best. Adebast had personally volunteered to become governor-general, as it was a quick way to get into the higher circles of social life without proper connections. His father had supported him at first, but when it became obvious what a backwater the Mountains were, and how little prestige he could win, his father had urged him to come back to the capital, even if it meant giving up a military career. Adebast had denied, and their correspondence had ceased for months. Now, they were on speaking terms again, but it was no secret that Pellius disapproved of his son’s choices. His mother and sister always stood up for him, but there was only so much they could do. Their home was not a democracy. As such, with nothing to discuss that would not immediately start the discussion all over again, the whole ride to the Palace was done in silence.

When they finally arrived at the palace, the doors had only just opened. As was custom, the head of the house, Pellius, would enter first, followed closely by his wife, and then their children. It mattered little that Adebast was actually the reason they had been invited in the first place. Pellius Ludovicus had to be careful to follow the ancient etiquette of the capital, since they were very much seen as new money by the more noble peers of the empire. If he was to establish his family, he could do nothing out of the ordinary, since any step out of line would earn him the ridicule of the gossip chambers of the capital. The man approached the welcoming committee, and extended his hand.

“Pellius Ludovicus, your honours. My condolences with the loss of the Emperor”

Adebast stood in silence, letting his father talk on his behalf.

[The Batavia]

[ RESERVED ]

[Abserdia]

High Chief Vaere
January 26, NE1190
8:00 AM
Tawae

Two hours earlier, green-scales began their 15th day of hard work at building the new royal home.
The loud construction of the palace across the street served as the replacement to his typical awakening.

He spent the early hours writing in Johrid. High Chieftess Tiaes typically helped him with learning the language, but unfortunately, she was elsewhere. The room he slept in was temporary to use while the construction was in progress.

4 days earlier, when the invitation arrived from Johrua, Tiaes insisted on traveling to Eunau to represent Tawae, not to the dying Empire but to any potential allies.
Being both fluent in Johrid and the consort made her an obvious choice, and as such, she was soon sent off with several accompanying bodyguards and a set of instructions from the High Chief.

His blue eyes glazed over halfway through studying. Once it turned 8:00 AM, he sighed, stood up, and exited his room to watch the builders work.

High Chieftess Tiaes
January 26, NE1190
8:30 AM
Palace of the Straits

The four day trip was tiring but at last, Tiaes was finally here.
She spent most of the somewhat rushed trip in the carriage unwilling to exit before she reached her destination, but a short ferry over the strait gave the High Chieftess enough time to reacquaint herself with Johrid culture proper, 10 years after a personal trip.
The green-scaled bodyguards slowly opened the carriage door for the her as she stepped out into the sun clothed in a dress, unusual for Kobolds. The black dress contrasted with her bright blue scales and the way she. In her hands she clutched the instructions from High Chief Vaere, explicitly stating what and what not to do.

Her size too was out of place with the grandiosity of everything else. The gates belittled her and made her feel, for the first time in years, tiny. The palace was breathtaking, impressive, but she felt as if it was more a reminder of the former power of the Empire rather than what it still held onto.
Something so grand has fallen so far and so hard, like a dragon that drops dead from the sky to be eaten by vultures.

She and her three bodyguards, armed with the typical spear and flintlock, had witnessed the impressive shows of power by the Nishikuneans and the Cantarellans minutes earlier. As the green-scales escorted her through the gates and into the palace she remarked in Kobold,
“Maybe we should’ve done something special as well, this looks like a siege more than anything...”

The consort stopped and gave her instructions to a bodyguard when she approached the Council of Ministers with a small bit of hesitation. Her appearance would certainly be a surprise as few would’ve expected a Tawaean Kobold to appear.
She looked up at them with wide blue eyes and spoke.
“As High Chieftess of Tawae, it is a privilege to represent my people on this week of mourning and celebration. I am sorry for the loss of your leader.”
She didn’t curtsy, bow, or shake hands. Her Kobold accent was noticeable but relatively weak compared to other fluent Tawaeans.
She tried her best to appear elegant to the Johrid humans while avoiding seeming weak.

[Hastiaka]

21st January NE1190
The Heavenly Empire of Yuhan | 玉汉的天国帝国
The Forbidden City of Mulin | The Imperial Magistracy

---

The click-clock of the high-heels echoed through the granite and marble floors of the great chamber of the Imperial Magistracy. A long line of column supports adorned with golden dragons flanked the grand hallway of the chamber. At the end of it were the five large seats, four of which belonged to the highest members of the Imperial Magistracy and one reserved as a symbolical throne for the Emperor. Facing them were rows of cushioned velvet benches for the two-hundred others that made up the Imperial Magistracy. Grand Administrator Shen Jing sat at the right hand of the Emperor's symbolical throne. Lady Shen is considered by many as a caring yet formidable and ruthless woman. For a century, the Imperial Magistracy has basically ruled the Empire with the Emperor voluntarily relegated to a ceremonial, neutered state despite him still having absolute power. With the Empire's executive and legislative functions completely under the Imperial Magistracy's control, Shen Jing is the face of the Empire.

The entire chamber was quiet. It was lunch. The magistrates were relaxing themselves after an entire morning debating whether to ban the use of dragon-pots as water containers. The Imperial Magistracy as the central government has denigrated into a state where they no longer discuss issues of national importance and instead are fixated on trivial issues that have raised the eyebrows of the public. As Shen sat in her seat studying tens of thousands of decrees issued by the Imperial Magistracy for the past century. She had just finished reading one hundred pages dedicated to the case of banning the killing of rabbits for entertainment.

A lady, dressed in black attire approached the center, letting out a cough to make the magistrates notice her.

"Your excellencies, I have with me a message considered to be important."

Shen leaned forward, noticing her and said; "What do we have here? What's with the attire? Did you just attend a funeral?" she jested.

"The Johrid Emperor is dead."

As soon as that was said, the entire chamber, once quiet, became alive and erupted into an orchestra of gasps, shock and noise.

---

26 January NE1190
The Imperial Airship Long Qi
Above Eunan, Johrid Empire

The death of the Johrid Emperor was quite the news. Being a direct neighbor to the south, it was in the best interests of the Empire to send a delegation up north to the city of Eunan. The airship was quite revolutionary. It was fairly large and had a cabin enough for a few dozen people. Grand Administrator Shen Jing led the delegation. This left the Empire under the control and supervision of the Realm Administrator Huang Luoyang- a person who's said to be incompetent. During a village mutiny in NE1182 due to rising taxes, Huang Luoyang threatened to raise the taxes even higher.

The Emperor could not leave the premises of the Forbidden City. It was a breach in conduct and he would only be permitted to leave if it was deemed necessary. Accompanying Shen Jing was Gao Yuhan, the Imperial Secretariat or the chief-of-staff of the Emperor and his cousin. Gao also represented the Imperial family and the Emperor himself. During international events, Gao is always present as he serves to be the representative of the Emperor. It is notable however that there are always two representatives of the Empire; one representing the government and another the Emperor.

Soon, the airship was approaching the capital of the Johrid Empire. It was quite an impressive sight to the two. The city was large and cosmopolitan, a thriving city. It wasn't like the Forbidden City, a walled fortress solely dedicated to house the Emperor and the government. There were only around fifty thousand inhabitants of the capital unlike here where there were probably hundreds of thousands of people living on it. As the airship slowly descended into the dock, Secretariat Gao asked Shen

"What's our course of action here today?" he said as the airship rattled quite a bit as it was being fasted to the ground.

Shen smirked and replied; "We make allies, we make friends and we need to make sure we're ready for anything. With the death of a Johrid Emperor comes a time where anything could happen. Especially with a child leading their Empire, it's too unpredictable. We can't make it out alone, we have to be secured. We need to take steps to ensure that our Empire gets out of this greater than ever."

The Yuhan delegation then went down the airship and walked towards the Palace of the Straits. A Johrid official was there awaiting to welcome them. Gao was the first one to shake his hand with Shen following afterwards. The delegation was small, with a handful of elite soldiers escorting them. It was important that they were here since being a direct neighbor to the south, the Eunan still has a degree of influence over the Empire of Yuhan. Ever since independence, the Empire of Yuhan had been a trading partner of the Johrid Empire with agricultural exports being the primary driver of foreign relations.

"I'm Shen Jing of the Heavenly Empire of Yuhan, Grand Administrator of the Imperial Magistracy and this is Gao Yuhan, the Imperial Secretariat and the chief-of-staff of the Emperor Sun Yuhan. We're here to pay respects to the late Emperor. It is a tragic loss for the world today."

[Ihury]

26 January NE1190
8:12AM

Palace of the Straits
Eunau, Johrid Empire

By then, several other dignitaries had crowded into the marble reception hall of the Palace, all of them jockeying for a chance to speak to the Emperor-to-be. Just as Nihei had expected; even amidst the atmosphere of supposedly shared grief and hope for a better age, amidst the temporary laying down of hostilities and the gathering of so many disparate peoples in the marble capital of the single greatest political entity of the past millennium, a war had already begun. A war, the young crown prince saw, with no small amount of malaise bubbling and churning in his stomach, for influence over the dragon in its death throes, every last player eager to exploit the riches upon which it had been seated.

“Just greet them politely”, Nihei discreetly whispered to his younger brother, as the first of the foreigners walked up the steps into the hall of the main palace, barely able to control the anxious fluctuations in his voice. “Take off your glove when you shake the Nishikunean princess’ hand, and... and don’t try to shake hands with the kobold. Just nod. Also...”

Prince Narin gulped.

“Don’t worry so much”, Nihei reassured his younger brother again. “Just greet them if they speak to you.”

The first of the delegates were quick to deliver their condolences to the young emperor-to-be.

First there was Crown Princess Valerie of Cantarella, a belligerent and highly militaristic nation located south of Johrua. This was the first time Nihei had ever spoken to a Cantarellan face to face; his father had never entertained any of them in his court in the presence of the two young princes before. He’d heard people say things about them; Foreign Secretary Thalbraas among others, was noticeably displeased with the way they behaved, and had a whole slew of pejoratives for them in private conversations. Valerie, for one, seemed rather different from the expectation of the Cantarellans he had had in mind, her genteel and refined manner a stark contrast to the reputation for political and military belligerence they carried.

Next to come was Princess Yuhiru of the Empire of Nishikuni, that frigid, silent domain in the farthest northern reaches of the map, perpetually observing the dealings of the worlds in the south without so much as a stir. The significance of them breaking their own taboo and sending their dignitaries to Eunau on the backs of dragons was not lost on Nihei, who surreptitiously shifted his head to take a glance at the white dragons sitting tamely and placidly on the green lawn, under the watchful eye of the princess’ retainer.

“It is my honour to speak with both of you today”, Prince Nihei greeted the two, quickly regaining his composure and taking care to observe the little intricacies with both princesses as he greeted them, gingerly returning a similar bow to Valerie and pulling off his glove before shaking Yuhiru’s hand. The latter, unlike when greeting the Central Council in the courtyard, actually designed to remove hers for Nihei.

“Thank you”, Princess Yuhiru tersely replied, quietly glancing at the coffin and the body it contained, covered to the upper torso by the black drape. "Sad days indeed."

Nihei nodded solemnly and beckoned to his little brother to greet the two princesses. Narin, more reserved than his elder brother and trembling with anxiety, merely nodded and shook hands with the two, but said nothing.

"I look forward to working with the two of you in the future."

...

In the courtyard, the Central Council of Ministers, dressed in long black funerary robes, hurriedly went about greeting the other guests who had arrived for the funeral and the subsequent coronation. As had been expected, there was a huge stream of delegates pouring into the courtyard, though not too much for the Imperial Paladins, who masterfully weaved between the streams of people and ushered the guests here and there to meet with whoever it was they wanted to meet.

"I... I..."

"Dahmon, bloody take charge for once!" Thalbraas once again hissed at Roquilas. "You're the goddamn Acting Chair... no... Deputy Chairman, for heaven's sake."

Before Roquilas could reply, Thalbraas appeared to have snapped, uttering a hasty "never mind" and, gripping him by the elbow, pointed back at the palace and said something. The poor, hapless Roquilas straightened out his robe and quietly made his way up the stairs into the building.

"That dumb animal is so dull, he doesn't know he's alive", Junis murmured under his breath with a smirk.

"Alright, ladies, get on it."

He did not deign to tell the others what the Crown Princess of Cantarella had told him in private. Something told him that this was a little piece of information best kept away from their prying ears, and especially away from Euradjajan Junis. In any case, that would wait till later. For now, there were more pressing things to attend to, like making the foreign representatives and heads of state feel welcome.

Thalbraas himself approached Adebast, the representative for the Goblin Peoples, speaking through his father Pellius. He personally opted to speak with them himself, knowing the complicated history of the relationship between the goblins and the Johrids; no doubt, it would not do to have any of the others attempt to converse with the goblins.

"Thank you very much for coming, my friends", he greeted the goblin and his human father with an amicable smile that revealed a set of well-cleaned but crooked teeth.

That was all. Thalbraas didn't bother adding reams and reams of greetings and well-wishes like many others (and even the emperor-to-be) did. What was the sense in saying all those things that everybody knew were only half sincere? Besides, from his past experiences dealing with goblins, Thalbraas knew they were a race of people who didn't like the two-faced.

...

The Tawaeans, kobolds from the far north, just beside Nishikuni, were received by Secretary of Labour Ausalm Istelnik, a rather average-sized man with prominent cheekbones and a manner about him that suggested, in contrast to the crude Thalbraas, an aristocratic upbringing.

"Pleasure to have you here", he said, smiling a wide, toothy grin. "Our new Emperor most definitely looks forward to working with you in the future."

It was a lie, and both Istelnik and the Tawaeans probably knew it. Tawae had never been on good terms with the Johrids.

"I hope the reception is to your liking", he added.

...

To Lady Shen Jing of the Yuhan Empire went Secretary of the Treasury Amon Machisuri, a tall, beefy, 61-year-old man with a balding head. He firmly shook hands with her, casting a discreet glance at her bust as he did so.

"I... must give you my thanks for coming here today, Lady Shen", he drawled, his greeting becoming more and more long winded as he turned his attention to Gao Yuhan and shook his hand. "Indeed, it is not just the end of an old era, but the beginning of a new one. Johrua and Yuhan have long been close friends, and I will make it such that our relations under His Imperial Majesty Nihei VIII may continue to flourish and bring mutual benefit to us."

Finally done with his long opening greeting, the length of which he was oblivious to, Secretary Machisuri beckoned to the two Yuhan delegates, ushering them to the doorway of the palace.

"Please", he said. "You may speak to the emperor-to-be and view the body, if you so desire."

...

Interior Secretary Euradjajan Junis made special effort to greet the Hajerusian delegation, consisting of a mere two people: Deputy Chancellor Zurab Phrangulisuri and Chief of the Hajerusian Navy Rear Admiral Ileu Surtrsuri. King Anastas II, whether to make a political statement or something else entirely, had excused himself from attendance, and did not even care to send either of his children or Chancellor Athel Nilessuri, a statement that did not escape from the hawk-like eyes of Interior Secretary Junis.

"Ah, Euradjajan, it has been so long-"

"Spare me the pleasantries, Zurab", Junis shot back at Deputy Chancellor Phrangulisuri, looking him directly in the eye. For a moment, the heavy clouds above parted, and his spectacles caught the light of the sun, reflecting little rainbows and covering his deep grey eyes. "Where is your King?"

"His Royal Highness King Anastas II is not able to attend the proceedings as he has taken ill with an eye infection", Phrangulisuri diplomatically replied.

"Nonsense."

Junis smiled at both Phrangulisuri and Surtrsuri.

"Your King is well. In fact, just last night, he received a delegation from Nishikuni led by Prince Yuya Aoki in Alsebin. At this very moment, they are probably speaking with each other and discussing matters of... future trade agreement possibilities between Jun and Ihama, independent of the central government in Eunau."

A silence fell between the three men. Phrangulisuri and Surtrsuri glanced at each other and then back at Junis.

"No", Phrangulisuri finally added meekly. "King Anastas II... has an eye infection."

Again, Junis smiled at the two. Neither Deputy Chancellor Phrangulisuri nor Rear Admiral Surtrsuri were able to maintain their gaze; Junis, in contrast, calmly and almost eerily shifted his gaze from one man to the other, staring deep into their eyes.

"Understood. I shall send my best regards to your King in due course."

With that, Junis quietly turned and walked away to speak with other delegates, leaving the two-man Hajerusian delegation alone amidst the crowd.

...

The more observant of the delegates would no doubt have noticed a man dressed in bright red robes hastily walking through the courtyard, into the Palace of the Straits. Why exactly anybody would turn up in bright red to a funeral reception was not clear; everybody else had, presumably, reserved their more festive-coloured clothes for the subsequent coronation that was to take place after the funeral.

The man in the bright red robe was, of course, Grandmaster Aram Eleuza Selvionas of the Grand Johrid Protectorate of Gyylmatin, the training grounds for the elite Imperial Paladins of the Johrid Empire.

As he entered, the Imperial Paladins stood to attention and lowered their weapons to the floor, a salute normally only accorded to the Emperor himself and foreign heads of state, not to leaders of the Johrid protectorates. Paying no attention to the respects they accorded to him, Grandmaster Eleuza quietly snaked his way through the crowd and walked round the back of the palace, entering through a side door and disappearing from sight.

...

[Kaledoria]

23 January NE1190, in the first hour past midnight.
Outskirts of Akkad, on the Isle of Akkadia,
Orderlands of the Illuminated Ones.

It had taken the messenger from the local Academy a while to find Mikhael Ariel, Illuminatus and Most Reverend Ubiquie Docendi Magister. The Illuminatus was inspecting word of mouth that said, that a local Halfling craftsman forged better telescopes then the craftsmen over at Eridu. It was a clear night and the moon was waning. Mikhael and the Halfling were standing in the backyard and the Ordermaster tried a telescope. While not the best one, it was very close, surely far better, then could be expected from a simple craftsmen with only two apprentices. "Master Hassan, I would very much like to buy this piece for my apprentice. His telescope is just a toy compared to your work. But moreover, I would like to invite you to move to Eridu where you would have access to better materials and could..." - "Master Mikkhael," the Illuminatus was interrupted by a robed figure jumping over the fence. The address indicated that he was a member of the Illuminated Ones himself but one could not tell in the dark of night and he was rudely stopped by the flat of a sword to his chest. Seemingly out of nowhere a bodyguard had appeared and checked the robed figure for weapons. The messenger nevertheless delivered his message: "Master, yesterday Brother Joshua got a message via Palantír, the Emperor has died. funeral and coronation of Nihei VIII are scheduled for the 26th." - "Cephas!" With a small gesture Mikhael called back his bodyguards and friend then turned to the messenger: "That's an incredibly short time. I guess the council has already started preparing?" He pondered for a moment. "I want an entourage of at most eight people - one bodyguard each excluded. Master Yisrael shall be one of them and he should bring along his astrological almanacs. At a turning points like this, Nihei will likely benefit from a new horoscope. And also I want Magister Enmerkar in the group. It will be interesting how Braxious and the Tawae show themselves at such an opportunity and I want an expert on them with me. As for me, I'll be on my ship in the morning." Mikhael weighted the travel options. Calculating an Astral gateway was an unnecessary risk and he did not want to travel with one of the Empire's airships like a peasant either, so the traditional method would be it. The time was just enough: "I'll be at my ship in the morning and have it sail right to Gashur. Should be there tomorrow evening, that's the evening of the 24th! The others shall meet me there at the Academy and we will finalize preparations and travel together to Eunau." He then excused himself from his host and reiterated to the Halfling, that a new and better workshop was waiting for the Craftsmen in the capital of the Orderlands, if he was willing to move. Then the men left.

...

January 26, NE1190
Palace of the Straits

The delegation of the Order of the Illluminated Ones arrived, 8 humans and a Dragonborn in their black robes, the red and gold applications removed or covered. The nine guards, that more or (in the case of the two Orcs) less discreetly shielded them wore black overcoats over their dark blue armor.

The first sight to behold were the Dragons, waiting on the lawn. Magister Enmerkar, the Dragonborn seized the opportunity: "Brothers, those are Nishikuni dragons. I saw some of them during my trip to the north 22 years ago but wasn't able to examine one up close."

Then it was on Mikhael to split from the group and speak to Nihei VIII. Even Cephas (who had previously spoken to the Imperial Paladins to declare their weapons and inform himself about their limits of movement) remained with the Paladins guarding the parameter. Patiently Mikhael waited until the Prince had time for him. "Your Imperial Highness,I'm honored to be here," he addressed Nihei with a deep bow, "Mikhael Ariel of the Order of the Illuminated Ones. We last met during the New Year's celebrations '86. My condolences on the loss of your father. I'm looking forward to your coronation and if you allow, I would like to have an audience later tonight alongside my Grand Diviner, Master Yisrael Dikla. Important events like these leave an imprint on the weaves of fate and with your permission, he would create a new horoscope for you."

[Higher Japan]

Main hall, 26th January NE 1190, Confederate Year 350

"Likewise." Valerie replied, smiling gently as she shook Narin's hand. Composing herself, she picked up her walking stick as she straightened out her bow slightly. "Prince Nihei, if you wouldn't mind, would you care to meet me in the courtyards after the procession? It's an urgent matter and I'd rather not do it here." She said, for a split second looking over to the coffin as she said the last part. This time her tone was much more serious, forceful, as if she wasn't asking, but rather just straight demanding that he appear at the courtyard after the processions. Once done, she bowed out and left, returning to the courtyard.

Once in the courtyards, she looked around for a moment as she reached for something under her dress through the leg slits that she had designed onto the dress. Pulling out a small champagne bottle, she promptly pulled out a small knife alongside it as she ripped the cork out before just straight drinking from the bottle. "Valerie, we're-" "Maximilian you can kiss my ass I'm sick of him already. Can't believe the Emperor ordered us to send an ultimatum rather than just straight pushing forward, they've already stopped me on the airship, don't stop me now. Trust me Maximilian, the theatre that the Johrua empire is going to burn, and when it does, the Confederation will soon take center stage." Valerie rattled off, drinking in between some of her sentences as Maximilian could do nothing but watch before she eventually passed the bottle over to one of her escorts. "Either way, let's just get this whole affair over with. You know that bloodshed won't help any-"

Valerie chuckled for a moment, this time slightly darker as she looked straight at him with eyes that could challenge death itself as she pulled him down for a moment before letting go once she was done with what she said.

"In this world, it's obviously the strong that survive, as a knight and more importantly a man I hope you understand that taking this shit from a woman."

Grancia Docks, 26th January NE 1190, Confederate Year 350

"Double time damn it! You over there, be careful with them!" Hanford shouted, quickly causing the workers to almost drop the carriage of bombs as they quickly began to move again after a short moment. The entire docks, once quiet and only handling the low patrol traffic that came in was now abuzz and alive with activity as workers rushed around moving ammunition and ordinances. Officers and soldiers were also moving around, this time into the airships once they were prepared as some of the admirals went around doing final checks. By now the Centurions had already taken off and were on their own standardized patrols set prior. Standing on a gangway overlooking the entire docks, Hanford sighed as he looked over to one of his assistant officers. They merely shake their head. It isn't time yet, the ultimatum has not been delivered. But now it was almost too late, with a build up of everything from Helena class Heavy Airships to Cygnus Class assault airships and the Edelweiss supply airships

The Cygnus class Assault Airship, a marvel of what the Confederation could do en mass. Standing at 125 meters out with a maximum crew complement of 150, it was the main workhorse of the Cantarellian Airship Armada. They were of course fitting of being a workhorse for their capabilities. They could fly from Grancia all the way to Eunau, drop a full 1,000 kg payload, spare some time to fire their 57 mm artillery unit at the city before flying back. However, they did have one issue and that was how long they could last. They had 12 engines, albeit of the standard type rather than the heavy engines the Helena class possessed. This meant that they could go faster at a rate of roughly 120 km/h if it was pushed although the standard 60 km/h or battle speed of 80 km/h was preferred. As such, they weren't designed to last long like the Helena and her food storages, meaning that these ships had to usually come home fast after dropping their payloads before their 10 day rations are exhausted.

The Edelweiss however, was a completely different ball game. They were the backbone of any fleet, any fleet must at least field 5 of them to even operate at any sufficient level. They don't carry any weapons nor payloads, but rather bring around necessities such as ammunition and supplies for troops on the ground. They could either lower themselves, a feat possible with their 100 meter length or they could release down a few gondolas carrying supplies to either other airships or ground troops. This meant that in terms of survivability, they could outclass the Helena when their crew was only an upwards of 130 men since control was simplified and most were there to handle the supplies. However, they could only push 25 km/h even with their 10 engines with the capacity of almost 12,000 kg of supplies at maximum weighing them down.

Soon, the armada was to take flight once the news from the 2 of them had come back, and soon, the Confederation would be at war once again after 350 years.

Johrua-Confederation border, 26th January NE 1190, Confederate year 350, 12 a.m

"We're almost there Princess Yuria." An officer said to her, now in full armor as the cape that used to hang from her hips were now draped across her shoulders. Her helmet's design was simple, a standard curve with multiple holes placed to provide her the ability to breathe, see and speak. At it's tip, her hair was sticking out from the helmet, almost acting like the Penacho more commonly seen on other helmets. Coming to a stop, she turned back for a moment. Most of her men were tired out and weary. It was time to set up camp. "We'll set camp here, prepare to move at any moment once the signal is given."

As camp was slowly getting set up, Yuria looked at her map for a moment. This was risky, she was meant to be a diversion as the zeppelin armadas would bring in paratroopers but even with 1000 men under her combined command with her deputy Prince Victor Palladium, she was still afraid. Afraid that her force would be wiped, despite the fact that they were only a few kilometers from the docks and could easily receive the signal to begin, she understood the risk. The empire wasn't foolish by any measure, moreover these men were weary and had to rest. Last she heard, the Helena was closing in and that meant it was almost time for her to move out.

Sighing once again, she continued to observe her map, deputy and brother at her side as she began to review plans once more throughout the night.

[Ihury]

January 26, NE1190
8:17AM

Palace of the Straits
Eunau, Johrid Empire

“My pleasure”, Nihei shook hands and returned greetings to the representatives of the Orderlands, beckoning to Narin to do the same. He caught a quick glance at Princess Valerie as she hastily and almost rather rudely left the hall of the palace, before quickly returning his attention to the nine Illuminati who had come to greet him.

“It would be my honour to see… your horoscopes for me, after the coronation”, he added, with a gentle, almost pained smile. “Do help yourselves to the refreshments.”

Catching the gaze of the almost forlorn-looking Acting Chairman Dahmon Roquilas, Nihei gestured at the tall man to come over, before leaning down to whisper in Narin’s ear, “Stay with Chairman Roquilas for now. I need to attend to something.”

“The Cantarellan princess?” Narin’s voice darkened almost knowingly.

Nihei nodded calmly. Then, straightening out his cuffs and adjusting his gloves, he added to the representatives of the Orderlands, “Please excuse me for now. The Crown Princess of the Cantarellan Confederation wishes to speak with me.”

As Nihei left, Acting Chairman (known as Deputy Chairman to those not in the know) Roquilas strode over to where the Orderlands delegates stood, having at last assumed a statesmanly air.

“Thank you very much for attending this procession”, he said, bowing to them and shaking their hands firmly.

…

Crown Prince Nihei and Foreign Secretary Hrustan Thalbraas had, simultaneously, headed over to where Princess Valerie of Cantarella was loitering with her retinue, the general area in which they stood reeking strongly of alcohol for some reason. While Nihei walked firmly towards the Princess, Thalbraas stood his ground a pace behind his emperor-to-be, sizing up the members of the Confederate princess’ group while subconsciously peeling his fingernails.

Stopping just before Crown Princess, Nihei gazed resolutely into her eyes.

“You wished to speak with me, Princess?”

…

---

January 26, NE1190
8:19AM

Phra Jussuri Castle
Alsebin, Kingdom of Hajerus

The meeting between Prince Aoki no Yuya of Nishikuni and the leaders of the Kingdom of Hajerus had been kept largely under the table, given that Eunau was hardly likely to approve of such a meeting, given the nature of the subject matter they had planned out.

Unlike with the delegation that had been sent to attend the funeral of Kanuri V and the coronation of Nihei VIII in Eunau, Prince Yuya and his three retainers arrived in the quaint, spirited port city of Alsebin on the backs of Nishikuni’s famous hairy horses, opting not to fly in on the backs of their dragons as Yuya’s sister Princess Yuhiru had done.

There was no sense in breaking the taboo for its own sake, after all. Such gestures only had meaning when not used in excess.

Upon his arrival at the gates of Alsebin, Prince Yuya was received by the second son of King Anastas II: Prince Del Anastassuri. Though they were roughly similar in age, one could not find two more different people; Prince Del was a six-foot-one hunk of beastlike muscle, while the five-foot-six Prince Yuya had a more slender, feminine air about his figure. Interestingly, while Prince Del had been trained since birth in the liberal arts and philosophy, Prince Yuya was a military man.

They caught on well, however, despite it being only their first meeting, and while awaiting the arrival of King Anastas II to Alsebin, the two quickly struck up conversation.

“Here, have this.” Yuya offered a little token to Del, who accepted it with a grateful twinkle in his eye; a little yellow flower, shaped rather like a chrysanthemum, but with longer petals and a more intense smell. “It’s a dried narukitorigamibana.”

“That’s a long name”, Del remarked with a staccato laugh. “Natoru…”

“Narukitorigamibana”, Yuya repeated, chuckling along, his laugh a softer, more refined chirp that contrasted sharply with Del’s forceful guffaws. “Flower of the Songbird God, in your language.”

“Ah, I see.”

Yuya stopped to hand his bow (an intricately-carved rosewood longbow bearing several inscriptions and insignia in gold leaf) over to his retainer, though he kept his simple short sword by his side (more for decorative purposes than anything else).

“Usually, we use these to make evening tea, but when I was training to become an officer of the Dragon Corps four years ago, my old commander taught me a little trick”, Yuya explained to Del, as they slowly strolled into the Phra Jussuri Castle, a little fortification hewn out of granite and situated in a vantage point that overlooked the sea. “If you want to prevent fungus from growing on your feet when you’re out in the field, just crush these flowers and mix them with ginger powder and a little bit of puffwort syrup, and then rub it into your feet before you put your socks on. Works like a miracle, I tell you. I still do it to this day.”

“Interesting. Very interesting.” Del nodded and puckered his lips.

“By the way, I don’t suppose there’s any drink in this building-“

The conversation between the two princes was interrupted by the sound of agitated footsteps running down the stone staircase; it was one of the castle attendants, clutching a sheet of paper onto which a message sent via crystal ball had been anxiously scribbled. Cocking his head, Prince Del turned to face the attendant.

“What is it?” Prince Del asked. Prince Yuya looked curiously at the attendant.

“Your Highnesses… I do apologise on behalf of the King”, the attendant heaved. “His Royal Highness is unable to meet you today. He is discussing urgent matters of security.”

…

8:20AM

Pavles Pavlessuri Castle
Jun, Kingdom of Hajerus

The Chief of the Hajerusian military had specifically requested to see King Anastas II, insisting that his meeting take priority over all others.

General Mora Darchisuri, a fearsome 66-year-old man with a steely gaze, a mane of white hair brushed sleekly backwards, and an average of two facial expressions a week, was not one who enjoyed making small talk. Never had he ever requested priority meetings with the King, except on occasions of the utmost importance. Consequently, Anastas II knew that if the Chief requested a meeting, then he’d better arrange for that meeting.

“Good morning, Mora”, greeted the King, his thin black hair and fat moustache combed neatly despite it being early in the morning; evidently, he had been preparing to go out when the General had called. He and the General had known each other since their younger days in the military, and were on first-name terms (from Anastas’ point of view, at least). “What brings you here today?”

“Intelligence disseminated from the office of War Secretary Astelvia mentions an increased presence of Cantarellan troops at the southern border of the Johrid Empire”, said General Darchisuri, handing Anastas II a document. “Normally this wouldn’t be a cause for attention, but they’ve chosen to do it just a few days before the coronation of Nihei VIII.”

King Anastas II took the paper, perched his reading glasses on his nose, and scanned the text several times over. The information provided by the Secretary of War’s office was brief and hardly comprehensive, but anybody familiar with the atmosphere wouldn’t have been hard-pressed to make certain connections when told that a sizeable fleet of heavily-armed zeppelins had been mobilised near the border.

“Either they are expecting an invasion by the Johrid Empire”, General Darchisuri continued, “or they are preparing to invade the Johrid Empire.”

The King slowly put the document back on his desk.

“Awaiting your orders, Your Highness.”

“We shall wait and see”, Anastas II replied, removing his reading glasses and placing them in his pocket. “I would not like to act hastily and risk angering either Eunau or Schwarzburgh too soon.”

…

[The V O I D]

Tau'Vedra
The Kingdom of Vedra

January 25, NE1190

---

“Mother,” Voss Thu'tan spoke to his mother, the Queen, in a soft tone as she watched the servants check his measurements, “Why must I go?”

“Because, Voss, the Kingdom of Vedra has been friends with Johrua as long as I can remember. Why, the late Emperor was a mere child when I ascended to the throne a number of decades ago - and his father before him, I knew as a child myself. I will not be here forever, Voss. As you are the Crown Prince of this Kingdom, you must befriend the to-be Emperor and honor the late Emperor of Johrua. In this way, when you are crowned King, you will have since forged a long-standing friendship with the current Emperor - and perhaps his child, as well,” Mother replied, smiling softly. When he didn't answer her, she sighed, “Besides, it would not do to alienate the Empire at this stage. Not unless they did something provocative.”

“And what of Daliah?” Voss couldn't help but ask. When a servant beckoned him to turn, he turned and was able to look at his mother more properly, “How does she play a role?”

“She is close to the to-be Emperor's age,” Mother answered him, a casual shrug as she moved to stand more in his line of vision, “Perhaps, something will come out of the coronation party.”

“You intend for her to have a bastard?” Voss couldn't help the disdain that entered his voice. Mother couldn't possibly be insinuating that about his younger sister, and yet, he still felt angry at the idea.

“Oh, by the Magus, Voss- no. I do not intend for your sister to carry a child,” the 'yet' seemed to go unspoken, Voss could feel. Mother always was a political person, so she had to have a goal; his guess was proven right when she continued, “I intend for her to court him. And he, court her.”

Voss blinked. And then his brow furrowed, “But... why, Mother?”

“It is simple; Johrua is in a rather - interesting state, at the moment. However, I have spoken with Master Khuvi'rah and he has consulted his Seers,” Mother's voice sounded almost full of a conspiratorial tone, “And they agree with me that the future of this Kingdom depends on Eunau's continuance, even if it is not the seat of Johrua.”

Voss' eyes widened as he realized what his mother was implying, “You intend for their child to become the ruler of Eunau, whether or not Johrua's situation resolves itself or deteriorates. You intend for Vedra to increase in power?”

“In some ways. Mostly, I intend for our survival. If it works, then we will have a way to ensure that,” Mother answered. Before he could ask, she spoke in a solemn tone, “And if it doesn't work, well, there is always that investment Master Khuvi'rah has been asking for.”

Right. The Citadel. Best not to think about it, for it wasn't his decision at the moment.

“Your Majesty,” a voice spoke up - one of his mother's personal servants, he remembered, “I have secured a special transport via magical transition to Eunau for His Grand and Royal Highness, as well as Her Royal Highness. Shall I tend to their things, ensure they are packed?”

“Do so,” Mother commanded without missing a beat, before fixing her eyes on him, “Oh, my son, you are going to be quite dashing - even in the funeral-wear. I suppose it cannot be helped; hopefully, the to-be Emperor does not take offense.”

“Thank you, Mother,” is all that Voss decided to reply with.

He supposed that was all he needed to say.

---

---

Eunau
The Empire of Johrua

January 26, NE1190

---

“We have arrived, Your Highnesses,” Voss heard, his eyes snapping open as the magical transition ended. It was a series of specialized warp-spells that warped to specific locales before taking one to the ultimate destination. They were currently in a royal cart, heading towards the Palace of the Straits.

“Very good. Brother, do you suppose we shall have time for tea?” Daliah spoke to him, his sister - the Princess, yet not the CROWN Princess since she was not the eldest. He was. She smiled at him, her deep red funeral gown being form-fitting and yet comfortable, wearing her hair naturally and brushed, “And stop your admiration. I get enough of that from the-”

“Silence yourself, Sister, I do not admire you. Besides,” Voss decided to tease his sister for her barb at him, “We are in the presence of those who would. We wouldn't want to insult them, now, would we?”

“I'm happy to see that your dreadful sense of humor has survived your years, Brother,” Daliah replied, smirking devilishly at him, “I would be remiss to learn it hadn't.”

Voss barely snorted, even as he felt the royal cart cease movement. He supposed that meant they were at the Palace gates.

“Their Grand and Royal Highnesses, Prince Voss and Princess Daliah, of the Kingdom of Vedra have arrived,” their servant spoke to the gate guard outside, his voice speaking in reverence.

Voss and Daliah nodded as one, and prepared their best diplomatic manners and faces. If the worst came of it, they could always use illusion magic on themselves to ensure things went well.

Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

[Higher Japan]

Palace of Straits, 26th January NE 1190, Confederate Year 350

"Right." Valerie quickly said, all gentleness and refined attitude out the window as she pulled out a small letter. Tearing the black seal apart, she cleared her throat as she read it out. "I'm going to make it fast. By the decree of the Confederation, seeing that a new young emperor will soon ascend the throne, blah blah blah. Basically this is an ultimatum. We demand immediately that you seeced land on the Confederate-Imperial border to the Confederation up to the coast and river. You'll be given 1 week after your coronation to reply, otherwise I'm sure you know how it ends. Let's go." She folded the letter back in, dropping it on the ground as she turned around with 5 of her guards.

"I'm sorry for this, but we're merely the messengers, if you'll excuse me." Maximilian quietly said, bowing in apology as the remaining guards followed him. Walking back towards where they were dropped off, the gondola lowering back down as all of them got in before it was raised once again. This time the Helena appeared to be more active, her engines while usually idling with only 6 operative now had all 12 running as she hovered over the capital.

Southern Isles, Oriental Palace, 26th January NE 1190, Confederate Year 350

Throughout the Oriental palace in the south, the light sound of the seven stringed zither being played could be heard. The palace in the morning wasn't busy, the Crown Princess didn't have anything to do in the morning for most days or for many of the days she spent there. She was merely a figurehead, while the true ruler of the isles was a General-Governor, sent from Schwarzburg to ensure that the island was under control at all times. The area's culture was unique, rather than the gowns and elegant dresses that the mainlanders wore, most on the island wore Kimonos.

Sitting atop the massive fortress-esque castle, Crown Princess Kaori watched from the relative safety of the top floor as she continued playing the zither. The peace was only interrupted when the General-Governor entered. Stepping in, he stopped for a moment as he waited for the princess to acknowledge and call him over, according to tradition. After a minute or so of playing, she eventually stopped. "What is it today." She called out, guards standing back at attention after waiting for her to stop playing for a few hours or so.

"Word from Capital. The ultimatum has been delivered, the Southern Isles are to-"

"General I've told you once and I'll tell you that again. The Southern Isles still aren't ready for war."

"Princess listen we-"

"Guards!" She shouted, as the guards on standby, armed with muskets and swords took aim. "I'm giving you a warning, leave the palace at once. I will not plunge the southern isles into war again. Now go, before I force you out." After a moment, the General left as she sighed. "Princess Kaori, if you'd like we could inform the guards at the gate to not-" She simply shook her head as she slowly got up. "I'd rather not, please leave the room for a moment." As her guards bowed out and she was left alone, she looked out from her balcony towards the mainland. Tensions had been running high for a long time, although the island had her as a sovereign, the isles were still under the military and by relation part of the Confederation.

This of course meant that she was nothing but a puppet, but she still had her own influence in it's rightful place. Her personal royal regiment she knew, was all that remained of her bartering power, alongside the position of the isles. If they were to revolt they'd be able to sever majority of the northern half from the south at the moment. Their coastal batteries would deny ships moving in and out access via sea, and with little airships to spare there was little chance of a blockade breaking team making it in. And god forbid they try passing through the Central barrier, a heavily forested area that was roaming with wild animals that were capable of tearing even the armor of royal knights apart.

Returning to the zither, she sat back down as she continued to play it, the sorrowful tune of captivity this time ringing through the capital city.

Northern Camp, 26th January NE 1190, Confederate year 350

Along the Confederate-Imperial border, the camp slowly grew larger as more troops were diverted to the effort. This time, 100 men from the Imperial Schwarzburg contingent had been sent to the camp, rushed there on horseback after the Emperor decided to change the plans. Now, the ground effort would be more of a concentrated effort as 400 'Pioneer' troops, men armed with shortened muskets and explosives to light and lob at the enemy, were directed to the effort. These men could be considered the army version of a Royal Guard of the families, yet not as good in terms of direct combat. However, they were armed with explosives which was essential for providing heavier support. Some luckier units would get a special launcher, completely spring loaded which could fire the lit explosives further than just plain tossing it.

On top of this an additional 500 standard troops had been allocated to the force. As Yuria overviewed the plans once more, this time focusing on the forward objectives to be claimed. Her concentration was interrupted by a quick apology from an officer entering, just to inform her that the command carriage had arrived. She was grateful that Schwarzburg had at least granted her that. It was unique to say the least, it was almost carriage sized, drawn by 2 horses as normal. Except the entire thing wasn't even that normal. It was almost the size of 4 carriages, and this time it was drawn not by horse but by some steam engines, just fresh from the design boards. They tended to break down a lot, so part of the 500 had come in on the entire command carriage since they were engineers meant to fix it. Walking out of her tent, she saw that the carriage was to say the least almost like a mobile base. Boarding it, some officers followed suit with maps and equipment in hand as they continued to review and revise the plans when Yuria suddenly smelt it. The one thing she feared the most.

It was just a few drops, it turned into a passing shower and soon it was almost a pure thunderstorm as the men brought in all vital supplies, mainly gunpowder. It truly was bad luck, the rain came at the wrong time. Moreover this wasn't just a passing shower, it was a thunderstorm as Yuria could hear it barely half a kilometer away. Under these conditions, there was no way Hanford was going to launch his airships. Moreover, if the ultimatum was refused now the entire invasion could be bogged down with the additional time the empire had to consolidate his forces.

Looking outside there was no chance as well of it being a passing one, it was here to stay, and with the mud in the ground there was no way the carriage could move without getting it's delicate steam engines jammed. For now, all she could do was wait as she could hear the sound of Hanford screaming at the communication officer via communication crystal.

[Ihury]

January 26, NE1190
8:21AM

Palace of the Straits
Eunau, Johrid Empire

"Secession?" As the Cantarellian delegation slowly made their way away from the two, Thalbraas, his face fuming red, turned to the silent Nihei, barely able to contain his immense, volcanic fury. "That bitch has declared war on us! We-"

"Secretary Thalbraas, calm down", urged Nihei, placing his hand on the potato-like Foreign Secretary's shoulder. He stole a quick, dagger-like glance at Crown Princess Valerie and the rest of her retinue, before finally turning back to face Thalbraas. "This is an unprovoked breach of our empire's prestige, and it is out of the question to cede any land to them."

"Even at the cost... of a war?" Thalbraas' voice wavered, almost in fear.

"If we do not stand up to them", snapped Nihei, "this will not be the last time we cede land to the Confederation. We will have a repeat of the Renih Incident under Emperor Besarion II."

"What do you suggest we do, Your Highness?" Thalbraas spat, trying to keep his explosive volume as low as possible so as not to attract the attention of the other delegates.

Nihei clasped his hands behind his back.

"Inform War Secretary Astelvia of this development", he finally said, still keeping his eye on the Cantarellians. "Have Imperial Paladin Division XIX and Air Force Divisions III, IV, and V mobilised and stationed at the Cantarellian border. Do not attack them preemptively; wait for them to strike first. We will not be made the villains for this catastrophe. Absolutely not."

"It will be rather difficult, Your Highness", Thalbraas said. "You will not possess full executive powers until three years later, and..."

Here, he leaned in closer to the young emperor-to-be.

"...just between you and me, Your Highness, I do not trust all of the Central Committee."

Nihei nodded in affirmation.

"I do not know if I will be able to gather a majority to oppose the concession of the southern territories", the Foreign Secretary confided in Nihei. "Istelnik, Amlin, and Machisuri will most likely vote in favour of seceding the land and negotiating a concession with the Cantarellians to avoid bloodshed. Astelvia may be Secretary of War, but based on his policy decisions, I doubt he will be willing to fight the Cantarellians so openly at this juncture. Roquilas will vote with the majority as always. Aside from myself, the only secure vote in favour of declaring war on the Confederation is Junis."

"How sure are you that you will be able to pass a motion to prepare for a declaration of war, Hrustan?" Nihei asked, switching to using the Foreign Secretary's first name. "Or rather, how likely is it that you will be able to gather a majority?"

"Very slim", Thalbraas replied almost sheepishly.

Nihei nodded again.

"Then I shall take things into my own hands. May the gods have mercy on this world."

Then, as Thalbraas headed off to find the War Secretary, Crown Prince Nihei strode back to the palace, stopping adjacent to the Cantarellian delegates and pointing an accusing finger at Crown Princess Valerie as he looked her straight in the eye, like an eagle eyeing its prey.

"Princess Valerie", he declared. "You don't need to wait for my coronation. Tell your Emperor that I will not cede a single inch of Johrid territory to the Confederation."

...

"A demand for territory, you say?"

Standing behind a tree some distance away from the Cantarellian delegation, Princess Yuhiru of the Empire of Nishikuni quietly observed the movements of the other delegates, her eyes following persons of interest around like a fox, just as her retainer Ichizo approached her from behind and whispered in her ear.

"From what I've gathered", said Ichizo, keeping his voice low enough that it was out of earshot for everybody except Yuhiru, "it seems that Crown Princess Valerie delivered an ultimatum to Nihei and his Foreign Secretary. A demand for the Johrid Empire to cede territory."

"Did anybody ask why?"

"No. She turned his back on them."

Yuhiru brought her hand to her chin in thought.

"Mother is going to like this", she murmured under her breath. Turning to face her retainer, she added, "Ichizo, go find a crystal sphere, and inform the Lord High Steward Okakoji of this matter. I would like to hear our official position on this whole shit-storm before making any moves on behalf of my mother."

...

"The boy is acting on his own?"

"That appears to be the case, Empress."

From the second floor balcony of the Palace of the Straits, overlooking the courtyard in which the delegates of the various nations had gathered, the Empress Dowager, widow of the late Emperor Kanuri V, quietly and pensively observed the activity below, her veiny hands trembling slightly as she gripped the marble railing. Several crystal spheres were placed on the table in the balcony, for her to converse with her men on the ground.

At the news of Nihei's reply to the Confederate royals, the Empress Dowager chuckled to herself and flicked her arms, spreading her black mourning sleeves like the wings of a dragon.

"He is learning about what it means to be a ruler", she murmured to herself.

"I do not like it", said Aram Eleuza Selvionas, the enigmatic Grandmaster of the Order of Selvio. "He is asserting himself in the face of powers who are far beyond his depth."

"I have faith in Nihei", the Empress Dowager replied. "He may be young, but his mind is not dull."

Grandmaster Eleuza crossed his legs.

"I'm worried about the Central Council, though", the Dowager added, more solemnly, still looking out into the distance. "How long do you think they can continue covering up news of Amro's death?"

"Those children? It'll be made known in a week or so, believe you me", Aram Eleuza replied cynically. "I wouldn't trust any of them to run a bar. Kanuri entrusted them with the governance of our nation, and as you can see, we haven't improved ourselves. It's absolutely sickening, I tell you."

The Empress Dowager sighed.

"I only hope my son can rein them in", she murmured softly, as if singing a funeral hymn. "I don't know what other hope we have."

[Ruskland-Preuben]

黄色王国/Huángsè Wángguó/The Yellow Kingdom
On the Carrier Airship 纯度/Chúndù/Purity, 25th of January, NE1190
OOC: Feel free to correct my maths!

The carrier airship moved at a slow but steady pace. Outside, light rain with slight but unproblematic winds made drops of water hit the windows, each making a 'pitter patter' noise as the raindrops collided with the glass. Within the depths of the gigantic airship, inside a room with a door decorated with dragons and cloaked figures, was the King/Emperor(depending who you ask) of the Yellow Kingdom, Nolan Bu Huangdi, second of his name. His wife was on the bed, while he was sitting by the table by the northeast corner of the room. He currently was reading about various things, primarily the airship's specifics and the airship formation around it.

"Purity-class carrier airships, first of its kind." he spoke mentally as he was reading silently, the words etching themselves in his mind, adding them to the vast library of knowledge inside his brain, "Length, 250 meters. Width, 45 meters. Height, 55 meters." even more silent reading that was undisturbed as thunder made noise outside, "Other specifications. Six cabins, three on each side, 31 meters across, 10 meters wide," the low moan of his still sleeping wife tussling in the bed as she dreamed on about something didn't disturb him in the slightest, and he continued, "10 meters distance from each other from rear to front, with a space of 30 meters from the front and rear cabins, total cabin area for each row of cabins is 10m x 170m.". He took a deep breath as he readjusted his reading glasses, "Distance from each cabin in side-to-side is 20m. Secondary cabin at the top of airship around 40 meters in length and 15 in width.". He then looked over another section of the paper, "ARMAMENT". He would then grin.

The amount of detail the paper had on armament is massive and if worded, would be copiously large, so here is a basic rundown: Each cabin has 10 hwatchas facing outward, each 2 meters wide on the firing side, 1.5 meters high, and 3 meters long from firing to rear end, total length of all hwatchas was 20m, with 1m distances between each one, allowing for swiveling. These were armed with missiles that when fired, went in a straight line if ever there was no wind. The reload system was on the back, where the rockets would be shoved into. The carrier ship indeed was first of its kind, carrying two smaller, more mobile airships on its belly. Placed in the side-by-side space between the cabins, these had propellers on them that allowed for ease of movement, and in size, they were 10 meters in width and 40 meters in length. It had hwatchas on it too, about 3 on the sides and 2 at the front and rear. But enough talking about the armament of the Purity, it was time to read on the airship formation around it.

"Specialist Type Airship Formation - Fortified, or STAFF." the emperor continued reading, now on the other paper on the table, "Proposed by the Grand General Markus Tsu when the Purity was launched, in order to properly protect the Carrier Purity, to be implemented on other Purity-class carriers.". He then closed his eyes after reading the paper, as if imagining the formation.

Around the carrier, destroyers, along with their smaller, but much speedier and more maneuverable cousins the frigates. Approximately four destroyers surrounded the carrier and five frigates. These ships were to defend the carrier from enemy airships, as well as drop bombs on any anti-air on the ground. There were also two resupply ships for hwatcha and firearm ammunition in the case that the airships ran out of their own supply of bullets and missiles, these resupply ships had a light armament of 2 hwatchas on each side. At the very front, three cruisers loomed menacingly, and they were scary for a reason; armed with homing magitech missiles with an effective range of 2 kilometers, as well as a heavy hwatcha armament, these were there to clear out any obstacles in the way of the carrier.

There also was an extended STAFF group if ever the primary STAFF group was over land or sea. If it was the former, mobile anti-air units; about 20, would move alongside the group. On sea however, the STAFF group would be mirrored, instead of zeppelins, there were boats, with a carrier ship being protected by four and five destroyers and frigates respectively, as well as having two resupply ships and three cruisers at front. Right now, the Sea STAFF group was being used, as they were flying over the water.

Two more days until arrival to the Johrid capital. The emperor was giddy at the prospect of seeing the air and naval capabilities of the various nations that would undoubtedly visit the Johrid Empire.

[Kaledoria]

(...)

Then, as Thalbraas headed off to find the War Secretary, Crown Prince Nihei strode back to the palace, stopping adjacent to the Cantarellian delegates and pointing an accusing finger at Crown Princess Valerie as he looked her straight in the eye, like an eagle eyeing its prey.

"Princess Valerie", he declared. "You don't need to wait for my coronation. Tell your Emperor that I will not cede a single inch of Johrid territory to the Confederation."
(...)

Illuminatus Mikhael's eyes widened. He had noticed some agitation among Nihei and his council in reaction to a piece of paper they had been given by the foreign princess. Now that he knew why he reacted quickly, evoking the spell of Psychoventriloquism, that allowed him to whisper into someone's ear without moving his lips across some distance. He addressed his entourage, including the bodyguards: "I want some hairs from the head of this Princess!" He saw Cephas looking back at him, in disbelieve, so Mikhael added: "This is an order!"

Mikhael rarely gave direct orders thus if he did it carried special weight. Cephas, the first bodyguard gave hand signs to the other bodyguards to lay out a simple, straightforward tactic, then, with the back of the head towards Nihei and the Cantarellans, his mouth formed a silent "Guard us" towards the other delegates. He looked apologetic and felt terrible doing it. It was not his place to address high members of the Order like that. But he knew, that it was even more out of place what he was forced to do next.

The nine bodyguards marched at the Cantarellans, the eight mages somewhat behind. A few meters before reaching them, the bodyguards (except for Cephas) suddenly drew their weapons and the mages readied defensive spells. The drawing of weapons was mirrored by the Cantarellan bodyguards and the Imperial Paladins nearby but the Paladins were several steps away and those of the Orderlands outnumbered those of the Confederacy. Two of Cephas' man shoved two of Princess Valerie's men aside, carefully using force that demonstrated, that they wanted no bloodshed and Cephas violently grasped Valerie at the head and shoulder, pulling her onto his breastplate concealed under the overcoat. It definitely was a rough treatment, that a woman of royal birth was usually not used to. At the same moment, Mikhael who came running over towards the group shouted: "Your Imperial Majesty," in his address he deliberately ignored the fact, that Nihei was not yet crowned; he acted like an Emperor and thus the Ordermaster thought to support that authority, "you don't want to allow those people to simply leave, to you? They could make good hostages or at least, we could interrogate them to bring our information about the confederate military up to date."

With the Psychoventriloquism spell still active, however, he added into Nihei's ear only: "Or you can order my men to let them leave, I have what I wanted."

[Higher Japan]

Palace of Straits, 26th January NE 1190, Confederate Year 350

"So be it." Valerie muttered, before being promptly surrounded as she raised her hand. As soon as she did, most of the men raised their guns as she was pulled down. "Let me tell you bastards something." She promptly reached under her dress, ripping her flintlock practically out of the hostler as it fell to the ground. Soon, it was placed close to his heart. "You don't fuck around with a noble of Cantarella. Not even the women you pansy." With one finger there, she began to laugh. "Go ahead, kill me, what good will it do to you. It's too late after all." She slowly pushed her flintlock closer towards his heart.

From the Helena, the gondola fell down once again as this time an additional 10 guards came out, this time loaded as they took aim, this time aiming at Asvis. "You judge wisely, after all. This is an assault against a noble. Oh how brutal and ruthless, oh how villainous indeed." Valerie continue laughing. At the moment, all of the guards were at attention. 10 muskets pointing from the outside, the rest closer to the group also drawing their bayoneted muskets. "Make your choice dear emperor, will you risk a legal war, or perhaps you'll turn your back against your fellow allies. Your choice, Schwarzburg knows after all." This time, she appeared almost deranged as she threatened to pull the trigger, while some of the guards took aim at her, Maximilian and the others.

Schwarzburg, 26th January NE 1190, Confederate Year 350

"What, Valerie is held hostage?" Emperor Athos questioned, almost drawing his sword as the messenger merely nodded. Sitting back down, he sighed as he looked towards one of the mages that assisted in communications. "We have no choice, tell Hanford to move out now, Yuria has to move as well. Tell Impelis dockyards to ready for a sortie, we must ensure that they make it out alive, we can't lose the goddamn director right now. Tell them as well that they're authorized to move and fire."

Confederate Border, 26th January NE 1190, Confederate Year 350

"All airships, take off. All airships, take off." Throughout Grancia docks, the same order was repeatedly shouted as one by one each Cygnus class airship took off, this time towards Eunau. One by one, they began to reach into the sky past the storm. Some were forced back, misdirected or destroyed in the storm but by now roughly 70% of the strike force was ready, all loaded and ready while pushing their engines to 80 km/h. Meanwhile, smaller centurions began to take off as well from the 'Small' class of docking bays, loaded with supplies as they began to move out over the border on a short ranged patrol mission to assess how far the mobilization of the empire had gone.

"Sir, the Elysion is ready." An officer called out, Hanford nodding as he left towards one of the few 'large' type of docking bays. In the bay, the remaining crew began to either clear out or enter the Elysion as the overtop cover opened, rain still hitting the airship. It was one of the few Helena class Heavy Airships that took to the skies in offensive missions, armed to the teeth unlike it's big sister Helena who was more equipped for troop deployment. It was teething with cannons, from 57mm cannons all the way to 88mm cannons and the large downward facing 105mm. It could last as long as the Helena, with the same roughly crew complement of 230 including artillery crew. It could hit a full speed of 60 km/h. As it began to take off, slowly lumbering into the sky, Hanford stood at the bridge, overlooking the entire scene. Soon, it would begin to cross the Imperial border, straight on the path towards Eunau.

[Ihury]

January 26, NE1190
8:22AM

Palace of the Straits
Eunau, Johrid Empire

At the intervention of the Illuminati, Nihei's face morphed suddenly from one of darkly tranquil dignity to a fiery-hot rage.

"Stand down! Do not defy me!" he thundered at Mikhael, his finger shifting from Crown Princess Valerie to the Illuminatus. "Stand your men down this instant! You will be punished for this breach of protocol!"

His outburst suddenly over, the Crown Prince lowered his finger, and turned back around to face the Crown Princess of Cantarella and her entourage, now free from the grasp of the Illuminati. Behind him, Foreign Secretary Thalbraas cast a venomous glance at the Illuminati, his lips curling into a fierce scowl of horror and indignation.

In the background, the palace guards went about ushering the various dignitaries into the palace, keeping them away from the commotion. Princess Yuhiru and her two retainers merely stood by, until confronted by the insisting of Treasury Secretary Machisuri, who urged them to go in. The dragons themselves sat by one side.

"Apologies for the commotion", the palace guards apologetically said to the delegates being shown into a more quiet and sombre location.

"Crown Princess Valerie", Nihei continued, his voice calm and composed once again. "When the proceedings are over, remain in Eunau. The day after my coronation, I will meet you at the negotiating table, in this same palace, in the interest of preventing full-scale war. Good day to you."

And with that, the Crown Prince turned his back on the Cantarellians and returned to the palace to entertain the other guests, refusing to hear another word from either them, Foreign Secretary Thalbraas, or from Illuminatus Mikhael, though he gave both of the latter a foreboding pat on the back as he left the courtyard.

...

"I'm not sure what to think of the Crown Prince", Princess Yuhiru of Nishikuni confided in her two retainers Hakuo and Ichizo, as they quietly stood in the palace, far removed from the hustle and bustle taking place between the other dignitaries.

"On one hand, he shows far greater dignity and tact than his father", Hakuo commented, speaking to Yuhiru in an informal manner that suggested a close personal relationship. "I accompanied your mother to the coronation of Crown Prince Nihei's father Kanuri V, thirty years ago. I can say for certain that this emperor-to-be's predecessor was neither as intelligent nor as tactful.

"However, I see a major flaw in his character, and that is his assertiveness. You just saw for yourself, how he acted against a foreign dignitary without so much as consulting a second advisor. He's humiliated one of his own subordinates in front of foreign delegations. And he's acting like the Emperor before he's even been crowned."

Yuhiru brought her hand to her chin, her eyes slowly drifting to the distance in deep thought.

"His assertiveness will either be his strongest weapon or his greatest pitfall", the younger retainer Ichizo murmured. ...

...

[Kaledoria]

Illuminatus Mikhael made a gesture to his men but it was not necessary, they had disengaged and were putting away their weapons already. Some of the senior mages threw evil glances at him, he could see their disapproval, too.
Mikhael bowed deeply: "I'm sorry, Mylord, I think ... I realize it does not matter what I think." He then turned to to Princess Valerie: "I am sorry that I acted impulsively, you are the guess of my liege and I was wrong to try to stop your leaving."

With their heads lowered in shame, the delegation of the Iluminated Ones receded to some quiet place out of sight.

[Ihury]

January 26, NE1190
8:22AM

Palace of the Straits
Eunau, Johrid Empire

As the Illuminati disappeared from the scene, they were approached from behind by the ominous figure of Interior Secretary Junis, his glasses obscuring his eyes as they reflected the light of the sun.

"You did well, Ordermaster Mikhael", said the Interior Secretary in his low rasp, still clutching a folder filled with papers.

For a brief moment, he quietly watched the Cantarellian delegates, but then tiptoed slightly (the small and fat Junis was significantly shorter than Mikhael) and whispered into his ear, "I wish to speak to you in private as soon as possible. Away from the ears of the emperor-to-be. If you have the time... meet me in the Stone Garden in ten minutes."

And with that, Junis quietly walked off, nodding at the Cantarellians with a smile as he did so.

...

January 26, NE1190
8:30AM

Johrid-Cantarellian Border

Posted to the border of the Royal Confederation of Cantarella and the Johrid Empire was General Antonu Arkanhau, a fearsome bear-like man of massive stature whose booming voice and vulgar manner of speech was like the howling of a drunken werewolf against the silence of the night. Rumour had it that he had once conducted, on the orders of some member of the Central Council, a massacre against certain ethnic groups in Gyylmatin and other parts of the Johrid Empire, but it was hard to confirm such information.

From aboard his skyship, the frigate Nasse III Lakhesis, the brutish General Arkanhau quietly scanned the horizon from behind the lenses of a cast-iron telescope, holding up the device with a single beefy arm.

"No sign of the Cantarellans just yet", he grunted. "But then again, I can't see anything in this rain."

The Nasse III Lakhesis was an impressive ship in its own right, but on its own, it obviously could not fight off the fleet that was slowly approaching. For one, weather conditions were horrendous, and on top of that, the Nasse III Lakhesis itself was only moderately armed, possessing a row of 30 cannons no larger than 70mm on each side on top of a number of hwacha carts posted at strategic open parts of the ship. Hardly enough to fight off an entire Cantarellian fleet.

"Where the hell are the reinforcements I was promised by the Secretariat of War?" the general growled, closing the cast iron telescope and hurling it with shocking accuracy onto a sofa in his command chamber aboard the Nasse III Lakhesis. "They'd better bloody arrive before those machine-fuckers from the south do..."

...

[Higher Japan]

Palace of the Straits, 26th January NE 1190, Confederate Year 350

As the guards lowered their guns and stood at attention, Valerie placed her flintlock this time into the hem of her dress as she picked up her sun hat that she dropped. "No worry about that." She said, quick and emotionless as she adjusted her sunhat before walking towards the Gondola. Behind her 10 guards moved along as they boarded it, before it was wheeled back up towards the Helena. On the ground, Prince Maximilian sighed before walking back towards the Helena as the gondola lowered before the rest of them went back in before it was quickly wheeled up. The Helena after taking in the last gondola began to lift off slightly, remaining just below the clouds.

[Greater Loralia]

It was at a period fit for those who knew how to best manage their time when the news of the death of Emperor Kanuri’s death reached the Federation of Jotnarheim, one of the largest and longest-lasting Grand Protectorates and technical allies of the Empire of Johrua. Much was going on within the borders of the nation. War preparations for engaging Cantarella was the first to be noted, despite the fact that the presence of the Armed Forces of Jotnarheim had not been requested. Jotnar and their companions performed combat exercises in hills that had themselves and their surroundings temporarily manipulated to manifest as a replica of various parts of Cantarella. Then there was the drafting of the Jotnar Ultimatum, which would, of course, have to be postponed until the holding of a gathering of the Imperial Court or another similar body so that the mourning of the deceased Emperor could continue in peace. It worried some within Eunau that the Jotnarheim delegation had not arrived on the first day that the news spread to them - which was the first day that it was released - but that was for good reason; all these preparations needed to be completed before the Jotnar and their companions could set forth for Eunau.

Jotnar arrivals were always interesting, especially when there were few sections of the city of Eunau capable of welcoming a Jotnar with her gates, and even fewer buildings aside from a few official, government-owned ones that could host a Jotnar within their walls. For the funeral a rare sight would not only be spotted, but heard. The arrival of the High Queen of the Jotnar alongside the 5 other Freyrs and Freyas of the Six Great Klans of the Jotnar, the Hersir (the highest-ranking military commander in Jotnarheim), the Grandmaster of the Society of the Valravn, and their smaller companions was one that began with the sound of thunder and the arrival of clouds just outside of Eunau, but those clouds would never penetrate the city. As the thunder got closer to the city, one could make out amongst the clouds great beasts - massive, intelligent mounts of the Jotnar called terrorbirds clad in golden war armor. For the first time in two centuries, that armor was present on the beasts - such an event was reserved only for when the Jotnar worried about war. Further in the distance one might see, with the use of a spyglass, the golden longship from which they likely operated hovering in the sky.

The only thing missing aside from a declaration of war was the presence of the penetrating sound of a Jotnar war horn, which had not rattled the bones of anyone with smarts in their blood in decades. The imposing, but presently good-willed Jotnar and their companions would touch down just outside the city of Eunau, setting up camp. Fashioned from the ground underneath the land small, human-shaped, but capable golems made up of the same material of the walls of Eunau would march up to the city - the gates open for them and many other delegations. Instead of passing through the gates, however, a point was made when the golems simply walked through the walls of Eunau, becoming a part of it for a short moment as the innate master of Earth of the Jotnar was revealed through that single act. Was it a threat, a revealing of what was to come, or not quite either at all?

Ever since being elected to the seat of High Queen, it had been quite some time since Asa herself had been anywhere near Eunau - a decade, at the very least. It had not forgotten her, however. She was once Headmistress of Imperial Academy of Magic and Alchemical Sciences and, after that, the Archbishop of the Johrid Church of Arnihism. For at least two centuries Asa has played a variety of parts in the inner workings of the Johrid Empire and its constituent protectorates, though it wasn’t clear to most outside of Jotnarheim exactly what Asa’s age was, as Jotnar without magic could live anywhere from 500 to 1,000 years, and Jotnar with magic even longer. That had not stopped in two centuries. Asa continued to play a part, and the people who recognized her form as a golem or that of her Asterian companion and one of her most trusted allies in the Court of Jotnarheim - Bastion, the youngest son of her previous companion - knew exactly why she was here. Asa herself had come with some of the highest ranking individuals in her lands to keep playing the fiddle that was power in the Empire of Johrua, and all were likely to hear the echo of that sound for quite some time.

The Jotnar delegation and their companions - those that held a sometimes sacred relationship with their much larger friends - walked in educated formation with the pace and stance of well-trained soldiers. That was what they were after all, when you really got down to it. After all this time, and after so much development of their society, the people of Jotnarheim had been and always will be warriors at their core whether they be the war-like and originally war-prone Jotnar and their Dwarven cousins, the illustrious and defiantly beautiful Asterians, the minotaur-esque Minos, or any of the other races within their ancient Federation. They were almost universally capable of fighting, with combat training seen as a right of passage amongst their society even as it grew to host more scholars, artists, and intellectuals than it ever had. Even Asa, the High Queen and a noted scholar of magicks and arts, an intellectual of the highest order, was nothing more than a warrior honing skills in a second life, waiting to be awakened for the great fight to continue. Asa had taken the lead of the delegation’s formation, as was tradition.

“You’re late!” A familiar voice called out from behind the formation, moving through it to get to Asa.

Asa’s golem turned with furrowed brows. Normally a voice that familiar would be booming at the size her golem was. Her mouth formed a smile.

“Mordralia, my son! Have you gotten smaller?” Asa asked, laughing. Her normally stoic demeanor could be broken my friend, family, and drink. Mordralia, her eldest child and a researcher at the Academy she once reigned over, was one such individual. They gripped each other in a loving embrace.

“I have, mother. I’ve been testing out new potions in my alchemy lab. I seem to have nailed this one.” Mordralia said.

“Congratulations. We will speak of this later. For now, come with us, we must meet the Crown Prince and other delegations.” Asa said, the formation of the group not having been broken, and simply adding Mordralia at the head of it aside Asa.

Upon entering the Palace of the Straits, the announcement of the High Queen herself arriving likely taking some of those who had foregone the simple courtesy of sending the head of state or government for some reason probably conjured falsely, Akhlin would remark upon seeing Prince Narin.

“That was is even smaller than the others!” He said, almost excitedly.

“Is he a dwarf?” He asked.

Asa laughed, somewhat out of embarrassment.

“No, Freyr Ahklin. He’s small because he’s a child. His Imperial Highness is also a prince.” Asa said, not testily, but rather more of a warning to be more respectful.

[Kaledoria]

(...)

"You did well, Ordermaster Mikhael", said the Interior Secretary in his low rasp, still clutching a folder filled with papers.

For a brief moment, he quietly watched the Cantarellian delegates, but then tiptoed slightly (the small and fat Junis was significantly shorter than Mikhael) and whispered into his ear, "I wish to speak to you in private as soon as possible. Away from the ears of the emperor-to-be. If you have the time... meet me in the Stone Garden in ten minutes."

(...)

Mikhael looked at the Secretary as he left, slightly confused. He turned to his men: "Well, I had expected an invitation to the pillory but I guess the Stone Garden is a better alternative." He wondered what Junis might know. Was he just showing his support for Mikhael's pretended idea of taking the Cantarellian delegates hostage or had he realized the actual idea behind the insubordination? He was not known to be versed in the arcane arts, so it was not likely that he would know the possibilities that opened if one was having a material link for sympathetic magic. On the other hand, he had his own mages. It was likely, that they had some sort of magic detection item like Mikhael's bodyguard or maybe even an anchored spell on Nihei and thus he had noticed and maybe even intercepted the Psychoventriloquism spell in which case he knew or at least had some rough idea of Mikhael's plan.

The Illuminatus let the other bodyguards form a circle around them and then he had Cephas take out the hairs he had taken from Princess Valerie. He had gotten about a dozen. They split it in two and put them into two small vials, each taking one of them, Mikhael in case he needed something to show to Junis or later Nihei and Cephas would be hiding the other as a backup just in case. Then Mikhael excused himself and made a quick walk over the perimeter (making sure, nobody else followed him) and finally went to the Stone Garden, waiting for the Interior Secretary.

[The Hierophancy]

Palace of the Straits, Eunau
Jan. 26, NE1190

Delmoria M'Telgoni strode through the Empire's grand palatial complex in a way he hoped came off as determined and driven rather than desperate. Being late to the ceremony, on his first trip back to Eunau in years, no less, would do little to rebuild his standing in court. Ah, but the simple sights of the city had been intoxicating, after such a long time deprived of civilization in that frigid hellhole he'd been exiled to. Almost enough to make him forget the spindly monstrosity clicking along at his heels wherever he went, though the unease, the deep, animal anxiety those things caused remained at the back of his mind throughout his rushed tour of the capital. Seeing a Stickman, even after half a decade among them, remained a thoroughly disturbing experience. Judging by the wide berth others were giving him and his pitiful excuses for attendants, he was not the only one to feel this way about the Shal.

"Couldn't you keep a little further back?" Delmoria, despite the combative tone he assumed, kept from looking at the robed figure behind him. The feeling was easier to ignore when they were out of sight.

"As you command, Lord-Ambassador." The response, in near perfect Johrid, was accompanied by a rustle of cloth M'Telgoni could only assume was his companion, Bu'Tze, bowing in reverence. Imagining the Shal staring into his back with those frightfully human eyes set amid flawless white bone brought forth a slight, involuntary spasm in Delmoria's old bones, half revulsion and half fear. He could never decide which were less natural - the Stickmen who acted in near perfect, yet somehow wrong mockery of man, or those whose twisted bodies, actions and speech were so alien as to seem impossible.

"I didn't ask for a response, Bu. Stay silent." Yet another rustling of cloth, fainter and further back this time, seemed to indicate the Shal's understanding. The two of them forged onwards through a gradually thickening crowd about the entrance to one of the Palace of the Strait's outer courtyards, the clustered men of high society hastily making way, though Delmoria was under no illusion of it being deference to his social stature, or what remained of it. A Stickman was, if nothing else, good for clearing out crowds. The lot were no doubt loitering about those damnable dragons - for backwater savages, the Nishikuni sure liked to show off. Seeing those beasts careening through the airs above Eunau had nearly given the old Lord-Ambassador a heart attack. Judging by the nervous tittering, Bu'Tze no doubt felt similarly about the great scaly monstrosities - the two races didn't exactly have a history of getting along well together, after all.

Muscling his way through an ever thickening crowd of envoys, diplomats and simple spectators, Delmoria found the courtyard already abuzz with nervous activity and energy. Palace guards rushed about, guests were ferried this way and that, and not far above an airship's engines hissed and hummed with a deafening intensity. Bu'Tze observed the blimp with a critical if impressed eye, but Delmoria found his attention drawn to the infantrymen descending from it. Their expressions were grim, muskets drawn and uniforms foreign, though the Lord-Ambassador couldn't place his finger on their origin.

"Mmm. Cantarellans, my Lord-Ambassador." Delmoria made a point of not glancing back at the Stickman as he offered an explanation. "Independent. And, furthermore, hostile to the Empire. Deploying armed troops on Palace Grounds, during a funeral no less, though... Unprecedented." Delmoria could imagine that cold, Shal curiosity passing over Bu'Tze's face. "Interesting." Delmoria gave another involuntary shudder and attempted to resume pretending the Cultural Committee Chair wasn't present. It was almost easy - the courtyards pressing atmosphere of fear, anxiety and excitement came near to overwhelming the wrongness that came with proximity to a stickman.

The Lord-Ambassador stood idle with most of the palace's guests as the Cantarellans arrayed themselves into a firing line while the Palace Guards rushed to surround them. He and Bu'Tze were ignored by the other nobles and dignitaries who whispered among themselves or stood silent and fearful. A few even began making their way back towards the entry hall - a funeral and coronation were major events, but many prioritized their own lives over attending social functions, and being caught in a firefight was not conducive to a long healthy life. The tense moment felt as if it lasted a good hour, though it was in reality only a few moments - abruptly, after a bout of shouting from within the distant reception hall, the half-assembled guard formations dispersed and began escorting guests further into the palace, no doubt to the area in which the funeral would take place. A guard, bedecked in the resplendent, glimmering attire of his office, approached Delmoria and his companion, stopping only briefly to stare at the Stickman with unease before regaining his cool, professional composure.

"Apologies for the inconvenience, sirs. If you'd follow me, we can proceed to the ceremony proper." Although irked that he'd not been recognized or addressed by the proper title, Delmoria felt more relieved to have been spared from catching a stray bullet than anything else.

"Very well. Lead on, soldier." The guard bowed and set off towards the reception hall, followed by Delmoria and, close behind, a grinning Bu'Tze.

[Naval Monte]

21st January NE119
Carimian Commonwealth, Asshai

The pale moonlight bath the ebony city it's celestial glow, giving a haunting beauty to the city. Further accentuating the city beauty was the hanging lanterns tied upon barely seen thin ropes and metal lamp posts, both containing orbs of ghostly arcane lights to illuminate the dark streets of the city. People below walked through the labyrinthine streets as carriages, trolley and rickshaw carried those that can afford to ride them, most being pulled by either servants, beasts of burden, or creatures crafted by arcane science.

The wheels of the drawn vehicles could be heard creaking upon the cobblestone roads, giving the pedestrians ample warning of their approach. It was years of experience and training allow the drivers of such vehicles to navigate through the narrow, winding, often confusing roads of the city. For many in the city of Asshai most knew the layout of the city at heart to never worry about lost, a fact that makes it easy to know who is new to the capital.

The galloping of horses were also heard as masked guards patrolled the streets to search for any nefarious deeds before performed in the shadow covered dank alley ways of the city. The statues of mythical creatures of all kind looking down at the people below as constant watchers, almost like they were assisting the city guard. Lumbering, tall, humanoids made of clay and metal stomp through the streets as they journey back to their vats to be broken down and remolded back once more, to continue on the construction project their makers were task to complete.

On the air a pigeon flew above the winding streets and dark building to fly to one structure it was train to find, the one structure where it and it's siblings were raised in when they were mere hatchlings and continue to live in when not sent away for an important mission. The bird avoided the smokes billowing out of chimneys connected to the alchemical furnaces of the workshops and factories owned by guilds and companies.

The pigeon saw the royal palace of Asshai, surrounded by a massive artificial rills with small pathways above them leading into and out of the building. The royal palace resembled more of a gothic cathedral than a government building, and flew to one of the adjacent towers, letting out a loud cry to alter the guard within its approach. The masked royal guard heard the calling and saw the bird flying to him. Raising his arm he allowed the bird to rest on his arm. The guard saw the note attached to the hawk's leg and carefully undid the tie to release the message. Another guard approached the guard and took the message and began to read it as the other guard began to return the pigeon to it's pen with all of the others. The guard open the rolled up message and began to read it. After seeing through it's content the guard rolled it back up and excused himself as he left the tower.

The guard began to navigate through the halls of the palace. His own candle and the moonlight going through the windows being the only sources of light for him. Walking through the marble and gray stone halls Captain Malak of the royal guards knew his way through the palace and ignored the group of homunculus cleaning the furniture, the miniature deformed copies of humans, elves, and trolls with transparent skin no longer unnerved the captain like they did back in his youth. Seeing the large, wooden, ornate doors Malak knew he found the entrance to the room he searched for. He pushed the door open and the twin doors opened before him.

Within the candle and moon lit room he found a large chamber. To his sides were rows of tables and chairs of whom members of the Grand Council sat, their faces obscured by masks and veils. At the end of the room and staring at him behind yet another mask sat the queen, sitting upon her throne. "Captain, is there a reason for you to interrupt our meeting?" One of the council members asked, agitated by the unannounced arrival of the captain. "I'm sorry for barging in unannounced yout serene highness and councilmen. But we have an important message from the Johrid Empire."

As Malak's words were heard the council erupted into a cacophony of hushed whispers and shouts from the members of the council as they all reacted to the news of the Empire sending them a message. Chancellor Zobeck, an old gentleman with white long hair tied in a ponytail and wearing a wooden and damaged mask, a relic from his time in the military, stood up. "What does the message say captain?" The captain open the message and began to repeat the contents contain within the parchment.

After the captain was finish reading the message Zobeck walked to the center. "Ladies and gentlemen. This time of tragedy for the fading empire can be used by us an ample opportunity to further place ourselves within the political stage of the continent. To break free from our self imposed prison and begin the process of making ourselves not only powerful enough to deter possible invasions but to make our nation influential as to gain allies in this turbelant times." Zobeck dramatically said, looking around the room. "While many of us fear the day the empire would try to invade our lands to erase our way of life I believe of we go to this funeral and coronation and give the new emperor a positive image of our nation we may convince him to become a powerful trade partner and possibly convince him to ignore us. Giving us the breathing room needed to grow our power and influence while they are distracted in repairing their crumbling empire." Zobeck said as he paced around in the room

The chancellor was in the Grand Council long enough to know what to say to the nobles, merchants, sorcerers, and other members of the councils. He knew that they feared the day another nation woukd want Carim, the land made by the exiles and outcasts, a nation filled with heretics and witches, destroyed and every trace of their existence erased. These fearful council members wish for Carim to become to powerful, to important to the balance of power in the world to prevent its destruction. More importantly he knew the queen wish for Carim it break out from it's isolationist policy that was made due to those fears, a desire that some members of the council also expressed if secretly.

Zobeck always wanted to find a way to use those two desires and for a while most of his plans to achieve that never seem to work but now with this funeral the Jorhid Empire has inadvertently helped him with his goals. He allowed the council members to speak among each other before he continued. "I know that a decision of great importance such if this must be made by the council but I truly believe that we must attend this funeral, if nothing else it is to show the other powers that we are relevant to the world stage if the Jorid Empire invited us to this event." With those words Zobeck walked back to his chair and as the other members debated on whether to attend or not Zobeck smiled behind his mask, assured that his plan will succeed.

---

26 January, NE1190
8:10AM

Palace of the Straits

After days of travel the delegates of Carim can see the palace from the windows of their ride. The splendor of the palace impressed those within as well as the dragons and airships that were used to carry the other delegates, those inside the chimera Aurora wonder what would be the reactions to their method of arrival and more importantly their presence in the funeral? The mighty chimera let out a bellowing screech in the air to alert the people on the ground it's presence as it's six majestic ivory wings flapped against the air. Letting them see it as it flew off to land somewhere.

As the chimera found the perfect spot to land it came down gently, it's two front avian legs and two saurian legs touched the ground as the wings produced a powerful gust of wind. The chimera long, slender, serpentine neck moved it's strange head around as it looked curiously at the people who gawked at the strange creature, it's head a strange fusion of a raptor and a reptile. The body of the creature was the same shape as a line but where lions have fur this creature was covered in breathtaking ivory feathers. It's tail was similar to those of crocodiles and while the six wings appeared to be like those of a bird due to the feather the spindly fingers on them were a clue that the wings were closer to those of bats. It would take a while for the people to realize that glasses in the shape of windows were on the strange chimerical beast.

To the shock of everyone watching the doors would open and they would see the beast go down to allow it's occupations to get out safely. The first to step out was a woman. The woman wore a dark blue dress, bordering to black in when in the right lighting. Her face was covered by a white owl-shape mask with a red eye on the forehead. Her hair was covered by a veil and on her arms she wore long gloves, yet where the gloves end revealed her pale skin. This masked woman was Morgan Konstyntin, the witch queen of Carim. Stepping out was a younger woman wearing a similar dress to the first but instead of wearing a mask she covered her face with a veil, the crown princess Hilda standing by her mother's side.

The next person to step out was a young man wearing a more monochromatic robes and was too wearing a mask that only covered the upper half of his facemask revealing the pale complexion as his mother. With a mask with one side white and the other black, both sides having ornate symbols. Amadeus looked around the group of people staring at them as the royal guards and the foreign minister stepped out with a few servants, a few being shadow warriors in disguise to protect the royal family. “I think we made an impression on them but we didn't make the one wanted.” the crowned prince said as one of the people watching them vomited. Queen Morgan sighed. “It couldn't be avoided. From what we know our method of flying is unusual. It will take time for these people to get use to it.” the queen said as she ignored the scene. The pilot of the chimera stepped out to feed the animal as the group began to leave the pilot and chimera alone.

As they approached the palace once more the group was still impressed with it's architecture, for a while they let themselves forget the reason why they were present in the empire to see the building, to its beauty in their memories. They were also surprised to see dragons on the lawn. looks like someone wanted to impress the future emperor.” one of the guards said, the group watching the creature for a few seconds before moving on ahead into the palace. As they enter the palace the mostly masked party saw the other delegates were already inside. More importantly they saw the hectic energy and nervousness among the guests as they were pushed around.

What rose alarms for the guards and shadow warriors was the presence of both foriegn soldiers and the increase numbers of guards. "This meeting was a mistake we should leave now." One guards told the queen. "No. We must continue on with our plan and trust that both parties will not open fire. Once we meet the emperor we will decide if we should leave or not." The queen said in a commanding tone. With her mind made up the group began to look around for the soon to be emperor, looking at the colorful cast of characters that were the other foreign dignitaries. Yet Hilda caught one person among the crowd that was familiar, well less if a person and more of a thing. look over there. Someone brought over a golem.” she told the group. Curiosity evident on her voice Morgan spoke. “If you wish to speak to the golem's master you can. But take your brother with you and some of our guards. Also return back once your done encase violence erupts.” Hilda agreed and when she, her brother and some of the guards and disguised shadow warriors left Morgan searched for the emperor to be.

Amadeus and Hilda arrived to the party who had the golem and it was the prince who spoke. “Excuse me, me and my sister couldn't help but to notice your golem. We're curious on what you use to make it and if you made it small on purpose or did you change it for this occasion?” He asked. “Oh sorry, I forgot to introduce myself both he and Hilda bowed. “My name is Amadeus Konstyntin.” “You can call me Hilda Konstyntin.” Both royal siblings said. “We are the crown prince and princess of the Carimian Commonwealth.” the two said, the prince speaking in a deep baritone voice and the sister a high soprano. "What is going on with the soldiers and guards?" Hilda asked

With Morgan her search would come to an end as she eventually found the new emperor to be crowned, surprised by his age. The matriarch walked to him and once she stood before him her guards stood behind her with her foreign minister by her side and the disguise shadow warriors joining with them. “It's an honor to finally meet the new emperor of the Jorid Empire. I thank you for inviting my nation to attend an event of such great significance, even if the matter for our first meeting is not the most joyous occasion. “ she in a somber tone. Yet even with the solemn mood the queen bowed. “As the queen of the Carimian Commonwealth it is a honor and privilege to represent my people for this week of great change. My condolences for your lose.” She looked around at the guards once more. "I know this is a bad time to ask but do you mind telling me why there are soldiers present in a funeral?"