Red Egg and Ginger (Open, tg or discord me)

[Roania]

"That may have been the most frustrating experience of my life, Asen Cao." Xeiri breathed deep of the fresh air. "I can't believe you put me through that." The young kitsuite leaned her forehead in for the purpose of tapping her husband with a tufted ear. "I'm never going through that again." She had spent most of the past thirty days in confinement, being waited on hand and foot, unable to bathe and shower, and fed all sorts of unpleasant foods every day to keep her warm and dry, for her health and the health of her babies. "I couldn't even lean over to hit you for putting me in this position in the first place."

"I'm sorry, beloved. But you'd told me you were going to do it. You said it would make our mothers and my grandmother so happy, and..." Cao wasn't paying much attention to his wife. For the first time, he was given unfettered access to his children, and they...

Well, they weren't doing much. Faren had curled up into a tight ball on his mother's lap, his tail inside his his mouth. He seemed content to suckle on things, mostly. When his eyes were open, which was rare, they were usually ranging for the next thing to try to nurse from. Whether that be fingers, his parents, his sister's ears... if he could put his lips around it, he'd give it a try.

Oren was wide awake, insofar as that descriptor could be applied to the twins. She lay on her father's stomach, pounding at his chest with a fist that would, occasionally, end up smacking her own face, to which she would respond with a puzzled and upset noise that stopped when Cao gently ran a finger through the soft down between her ears.

"I just can't believe we're parents." Cao said, finally.

"I can. We put enough work into getting me pregnant over the past two years." Xeiri grinned and blew him a kiss. "And you'll be a good dad." She was confident of that, watching Cao with the twins. He seemed as devoted to them as he was to her, if not more. "I'm just annoyed we're going through with this event."

"The Lord thought it was important, and I think he's right." Cao picked Oren up and held her to his face. "Did your grampa think it was important? He did, yes he did, your grampa thought it was soooo important for everyone in the galaxy to see how adorable you are, daughter." She regarded her father's baby talk as an insult to her intelligence, apparently, and kicked him in the nose, then giggled.

"I suppose now that the family is out of the way, we may as well see everyone else." It had been good to see Cao's grandmother and aunt. Neither Alessa nor Nailin had stayed for long after the proper ceremony, but they'd both been very warm and welcoming. Alessa had brought her sugary treats from the Republic, too, which was always helpful. So, when are people going to start arriving?"

"They're meant to be coming downstairs soon. Then my parents and Lady Rowena," Lady Rowena being the Empress of the Eridani Imperium, and the Emperor's 'official concubine', whatever that meant. Cao tried to get along with her. His parents both liked her, and seemed to have come up with a reason to have her stay in the residence. "The Silacos may already be here. When we left Katryna was getting ready, remember?"

"Hmm..." She leaned back and gently pet their son, who responded by kicking his foot into her thigh. "Yeah, you're right."


---

Down below, guests had begun arriving at the Grand Resplendent and Most Radiant Sunlit Pavilion. It was a beautiful autumn day, with the air crisp and clean but not too cold. Servants were circling amongst the crowd, handing out red envelopes. No one was allowed into the Pavilion yet, though that would be soon enough.

[The Eridani Imperium]

The Eridani Imperium - also known as the United Species of the Eridani Nebula - and its delegation had already arrived, the massive IES Asgard in high orbit of Rudan Prime.

The shuttles had already taken down the delegation, gifts, and extra supplies for the naming ceremony, including 10 barrels of the legendary Greensap Ale (30% ABV - they didn’t want the party to start too soon).

The sleek armor of the Hirdmenn and the practical wear of the Eridani delegates was a stark contrast to the Rudanese surroundings, as was the near-musical exchange in Kadrian going on between the Empress Rowan Silvershield, the Jarl Vidar Shadowslayer, and the Archmage Amren Farseer. Of special note was the wooden barrels piled up near them...

[New Dornalia]

As if not to be outdone by the Eridani Imperium, the Dornalians had sent their own ship--in this case, a Mercury-CAIN Battlestar. The almost stereotypically Dornalian vessel in this case was the CRS Principe de Asturias, and it came alone. Docked in Rudan Prime's orbit, the Battlestar had come here on a peaceful mission--in this case, to ferry the Dornalian delegation to the red egg and ginger party. The Dornalians had previously paid tribute and established diplomatic relations previously, and as such Ambassador D'Annunzio had informed the Dornalian party about the celebration to take place. So, it was little effort to take the time to come down and pay a social visit--one which would have diplomatic consequences in a good way.

The Dornalians coming down were the bigwigs themselves. Towering prominently over the other members of the party was President Michael Haggar himself. Time spent managing the nation's affairs had not dulled the ex-wrestler's physique, which was currently clad with a business suit that seemed to improbably both fit his frame and look a little smaller than desirable. If anything, he seemed even more energized and fit than before. Next to Mike was a rather large grizzly bear, who alternated between going on all fours and standing tall at once, moving and looking at things with considerably more intelligence than the average bear. He had a lanyard around his neck with an ID badge marked "Yogi", as well as a pair of slacks sized appropriately to his frame.

To Mike's left? Norton Simons himself. Clad in his own business suit, he had a much more unassuming look, with hornrimmed glasses and the looks of one of those harem anime protagonists. His walk and his eyes however, belied the otherwise milquetoast look Norton had going with an undercurrent of intelligence. Assisting Norton was a small figure that resembled a short dragon, wearing a suit, a bluetooth headset and with a tablet. Behind them all came a small hovering platform with several boxes upon it-- all neatly decorated with a pleasant red and gold scheme with pink bows.

Norton noticed the Eridani party, and took note mentally. It seemed that they hadn't been the first ones to get here, and judging by the guests showing it, it seemed everyone had the same idea. The attendants were doing crowd control and handing out red envelopes, which the party accepted with a nod.

The first one to speak was Norton, who contemplated out loud, "Well. This is some shindig."

"Got that right," the dragonlike figure said, his voice displaying a heavy NYC/North Jersey metro area accent. Looking up at Norton, the figure said, "Hey, Nort. How's my tie. Is it -boldly?"

"Quite -boldly, Coach. Quite -boldly." Norton nodded as he said that, smiling a slight smile as Coach seemed to wander over to the platform and fiddle with his tablet. Walking back, Coach said to the assembled, "Good. Just had to make sure everything was there. Last thing we need is to commit a faux pas because we didn't bring a gift."

Haggar nodded, and wondered with a whisper, "I wonder what they'll think of the gifts?"

Yogi, for his part shrugged, replying in a strange approximation of a Russian accent:

"Hard to say. Yogi hopes for the best though--after all, thought counts with gift, no?"

"Got that right," Haggar said, looking around, wondering about the others.

Amongst them of course, was someone who was not Dornalian, and stood as if they were part of the group and yet not of it....

[Roania]

Local dignitaries had begun arriving, though they were for the moment avoiding the foreigners. A tall Nmmr made his way to Rowan. "The Emperor requests your attention, if you and your company would like to follow me?" Some of the guards were already being led off to join the locals on patrol, though a few of the women were being asked to go in a completley different direction.

---

"I'm fine, beloved, I don't need..." Damalin was arguing with AiQien. Well, insofar as that was ever a thing.

"You need your reading glasses... oh! Rowan!" AiQien smiled over her husband's shoulder and walked around to kiss Rowan on both cheeks. "And these must be Vidar and Amren." She bowed to both of them, appraising both of them and approving of what she saw.

Her husband followed suit, though he kissed Rowan on the lips and gave her a knowing look, first. "Any friend of Rowan's is a friend of ours... even if she did decide to get m..." It was only for a minute, as he looked at Vidar. He made a sound as though the wind had been socked out of him, a very audible 'gasp'. But he shook his head and looked at Vidar. "...are all of your men built like that?" He smiled, but he was shaken to the core. "I'm flattered you agreed to the terms you did, Sister..."

[Macisikan]

Lord Dakrati Tavakir, the Realm’s Ambassador to Roania, had arrived at roughly the same time as the Dornalians, and had been swept up by them. Unlike the other attendees, he’d already been present; the courier that had brought the gifts for the children had arrived and departed a week earlier. His own guards and aides were mixed in there, of course.

For now, he simply remained quiet; sharp eyes noting the departure of the Eridani Empress, the movement of the crowd, and so on.

[Sunset]

While CRS Principe de Asturias and RDF Unconquered Sun played point-defense pong in orbit - a draw was expected - Erika, Demi, Katryna, Amaril, and finally Aviandri Silaco stood waiting. There were presents, of course, with this-and-that for the parents as well as smaller for the children and these had been safely ensconced inside a vibrantly decorated gift bag stuffed to the brim with tissue paper and bits of loose confetti and glitter. This had been consigned to this last member of their party, who managed to look alternately bored and excited as she stepped from foot to foot with the bag clasped in her hands.

Her dress had been provided by her Mistress on the instruction of the Elentari (who had heard of the invitation and acted accordingly) and was made with the typical Elven cunning; Long enough to show her status as an apprentice sorceress while just fitting enough to flatter a budding young woman and just formal enough to recognize that she was to wear it to an event hosted by adults. And not the adults of the Republic, where diplomatic gatherings could just as easily be hosted on the front lawn with a grill and Frisbee but an event as they would have been held in her father's homeland where protocol and proper words were considered 'fun'.

It was also the most formal outfit of the five. The Secretary-General wore a knee-length brown suede skirt and a white linen sport jacket over nothing in particular while her wife the Ambassador had switched the suede out for off-white cotton and a blood-red camisole with a jacket to match the skirt over it. An elaborate parasol purchased at the Imperial market just that same morning was over one shoulder. Katryna had unconsciously copied her mother - though her jacket showed a bit more daring-do - while her husband was decked out like a dude (or a Dornie) in jeans, cowboy boots, an open sport jacket over an dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar and a hat that looked like it had been stolen off the set of a spaghetti western.

None of them were carrying weapons, nor were there guards around. Instead the four adults chattered idly among themselves or with their (not-quite) second cousins from New Dornalia, though it was clear from the way Demi's eyes kept drifting in that direction that the Ambassador was barely keeping herself from rushing over and trying to engage Lord Tavakir, despite his stand-offish posture. This was held in check by Erika's occasional pluck at her elbow - this wasn't official business, just friends celebrating two new lives.

[The Eridani Imperium]

As the Hirdmenn worked with the local authorities to carry out plans made in advance, Rowan greeted both AiQien and Damalin in her customary manner. “Sæll, I hope you did not miss my presence or mind the dreadnought in orbit - you know how zealous the Fleet Admiralty can be about security,” she grinned. After Damalin’s fascination with Vidar passed, Rowan laughed quietly. “Not all of our men are built like Jarl Shadowslayer here - he’s one of a kind, so to speak.”

Vidar smiled at that, as his eyes flashed silver for a moment. Of course, only Damalin was fortunate enough to see it, as the Lord of Ten Thousand Years was in the right place at the right moment.

Amren’s silver eyes flicked between Vidar and Damalin at that moment as she listened to a song that only she could hear. The Archmage’s attention soon shifted, as she looked at the other dignitaries.

[Solont]

Valcione stirred, her eyes fluttering open as streams of sunlight broke through the leafy canopy above, shone through the window of her car, and played across her face. She didn't know when she fell asleep; the last thing she could remember was climbing into the car Faren – the elder Faren, now – had sent for her at the spaceport, but now she could already see the gates of the Sunlit Pavilion rising to meet them. “How long has it been?” She murmured. Fourteen years since she last set foot on Rudan Prime? Fifteen? More? So much had happened in the interim; The departure of the Prism, the discovery of the QB Homeworld, the détente with Shade... Though, during her earlier descent from orbit, she had wryly noted that some things never changed. The disparate nations of the galaxy were still out to show off to one another, sending battleships to birthday parties just to demonstrate that they could.

The Solont Federation had no desire or need to show the rest of the universe how powerful they were, and so, Supreme Commander Valcione Solis had arrived in a sleek but humble executive shuttle, bristling not with weapons but with worldly comforts. She traveled with no staff, either; this wasn't a complex diplomatic mission, demanding in-depth briefings and months of preparatory negotiation. No, all Valcione needed to do was turn up, smile, and convey her sincere well wishes to the new parents, and being polite, kind, and charming was something that came naturally to her, no matter what state she was in... and “a state” was certainly an apt description of Valcione's condition, given that her plus one had kept her awake for nearly the entire voyage.

“Look at you, sleeping so soundly,” The Supreme Commander cooed to the little ball of blanket-wrapped fluff cradled in her arms. “Where's the little monster that cried the whole way here?” With gentle adoration, Valcione tenderly brushed a tuft of golden blonde hair from the infant segonune's face, and then turned her gaze to the mirror set into the seat in front of her, and to her own appearance. A quick brush of her fingers put her hair back in order, and she carefully smoothed out the ruffles in the fur on her cheeks and tail. A quick tuck ensured that her uniform was straight and crisp; after all, the car was pulling to a stop, and it simply wouldn't do for her to disembark looking like she felt.

Her heels clacked on the gorgeous inlaid stonework, and Valcione stood up, stretched her legs, and drew in a deep breath of the cool autumn breeze. She was hardly the most imposing figure to be seen; she was pretty, only stood about 5'9,” and, as a segonune, she didn't appear much of a physical threat. Silky black and white fur and a long bushy tail, along which ran two white stripes, didn't do much to trigger the fight-or flight reflex in anyone who happened to look her way. Her uniform made up for the deficiency, however. Expertly tailored black slacks matched an expertly tailored black jacket, clasped tightly around her figure by golden buttons, and adorned with all the epaulets, ribbons, and stripes befitting someone of a rank without superior or peer. And of course, all that pomp and gravitas was undone by the appearance of the sleeping infant cradled in her arms. And though the tiredness in her eyes betrayed the fact that she had not had a decent night of rest in weeks, she still looked, to all who would recognize her, like she hadn't aged a single day since her last visit to the Radiant Empire, over a decade ago.

And so it was that the two Solonti representatives had arrived: Valcione Solis, Supreme Commander of the Solont Federation, leader of the Solont Defence Force, renowned veteran, and one to be counted among the most powerful people in the known galaxy... and Molly Solis, two months old.

[Alexzonya]

Rudan Prime, Roania, Beta Quadrant, Milky Way Galaxy

The presence of an Alexzonyian delegation at a Roanian event wasn't something that would ordinarily be expected; except for both nations' sponsorship of the Galactic Commerce Corridors, there had been no formal first contact or diplomatic relations established. Hopefully that would change today, as fortuitous timing had come to the rescue. An Alexzonyian diplomatic cruiser had delievered a special delegation to Dornalia, earlier in the week, to start discussions about GRA imports of Dornalian-made weapon systems. While there, they had been informed of the event in Roania, and a unique opportunity; honor the birth of a new heir to the Imperial throne, and pay tribute for 3 generations.

While the Republic had found the concept of paying a formal tribute to an autocrat to be quite distasteful, providing a state gift to a newborn child was, from an Alexzonyian perspective, an entirely different matter. Thus, the Alexzonyian Ambassador to New Dornalia (as one of the nearest allied powers) and a small entourage of Foreign Affairs Advisory staff had been dispatched to the event on the Origami cruiser Green Highland Falcon, to mingle with the other guests and, at the appropriate point, present the presents, as it were.

Of course, finding suitable tribute to a pair of twins who would someday would have everything they could imagine, and perhaps more, was a difficult proposition. After significantly internal debate, the decision was made to offer two small Southern Lowland Cabotian Maple trees that would grow with the small pair of royals. Once the trees had grown, they would produce a unique sweet-tasting, but slightly tangy, syrup that could be readily tapped (and was non-toxic to the kitsuite; the Alexzonyians had checked). Sturdy, they would be able to serve as shade trees or a mounting point for any type of outdoors recreation equipment. The trees had been genetically modified, slightly, so they would thrive in the local soil and with the different shades of light thrown by the local star. It was not a gift of great extrinsic value or monetary worth, but the Alexzonyians hoped that the sentiment and optimistic symbolism behind the gifts would be understood.

[Shwe Tu Colony]

Huanxian
"Ach! I'm going to be late!" Stribog Enlil said in his usual Greek accent as he rushed out of the portal with a blast of air, only to crash face first into the building in front of him, the present in his hands flying into the air. Moments later, a gust of wind would blow it gently upwards, followed by a small spiral of wind keeping the present in the air. "Oxide, Hermes-Hina! Why would you transport me here? This is not the party pavilion!" the Domeses Arsum of Air said, catching the present after the tornado-like formation of air disappeared.
"That's weird," the other said as he looked at the screen in front of him & then glancing out the portal, "Something's not ri—" The portal abruptly closed, leaving Stribog alone in the city. "Foehn wind! What's next, will my communications crystal fail too?" he said to himself as a gust of wind dragged the item out of his pocket, "Pray to deities..." He gazed into the item for a few seconds.

He evidently had a full conversation — or at least something sufficient enough — as he breathed out a sigh of relief after looking into the crystal. "How awfully inconvenient. Looks like I'll be stuck here for a short while until Hermes-Hina can get the portal functioning again," he muttered as he walked out into the streets, only to be swept away by the crowd because of his small size. His height was the source of surprise for many as even Antique, who was designed to resemble a young teenager, was of equal stature to Stribog. Ironically, the latter was intended to be designed after a young adult, but the Psytrines responsible for him decided to make him short anyway.

"Akh! Foehn winds!" the Domeses whispered out as the crowd pushed him around, "These are not flying conditions!" He threw the present up into the air & caught it inside a small spiral of air, barely missing someone near him with his throw. With the way he did throw it, though, he almost fell down, but caught himself with a gust of wind from below. Another gentle blast of wind emitted from the present, swirling around it. "Not good, this crowd is moving away from my destination..." he said, recalling the map of the city that the Psytrine Domeses Polikun of Cartography Anaximander Charti had literally shoved inside Stribog, "Looks like I might have to fly, as much as I'd rather not have to maybe interrupt this day." He had never been to Roania before, & was consequently oblivious to what was considered normal.

With a few minutes of struggling in the crowd — with his present flying above him in the small tornado he had summoned, to prevent it from being damaged despite how both the gift inside & the present itself were made to survive explosions — Stribog finally made his way into an alleyway. "Mac's will, that was a hectic thrashing!" he said to himself as he ran deeping inside it to avoid being seen. Once there, he looked over his attire, which had become filthy with dust & mud. "I wonder if I could even attend the party without being confused for a vagabond in this state..." he said, "Mac & his scuffle animations are just so annoying." With a swift twirl & a gentle whirlwind surrounding him, his clothes were fully cleansed of the filth covering it. "Much better! Time to get going."

With his arms bent in front of him, he made a fanning motion with his hands. Immediately after, columns of wind began to blast up from the ground, lifting Stribog up into the air, but unfortunately at too fast of a pace & causing some sort of clothesline wire to slip into his mouth — although his present was thankfully not flying with him at the time. Surprised, his Air magic stopped functioning long enough for him to crash onto the floor with a quiet thump. "Urgh..." he groaned out as he lied there for a few seconds, his eyes having been magically replaced by cartoonish spirals. Eventually, though, he would get up, shaking his head to clear his mind. "Let's try that again," Stribog said, doing the same motion again & causing more air to blast beneath him, which successfully lifted him a fair distance above the nearby buildings. "You've blown it all sky high..." he sang to himself once his ascent finished, standing in the air with some vertical movement, as though he was flying with rocket boots.

After this, he aimed an open hand at the present, which flew into the air next to him. With this done, Stribog moved his arms in front of his chest facing upwards before switching his position into one reminiscent of a surfer's pose. He then took off flying for the Grand Resplendent and Most Radiant Sunlit Pavilion while remaining in this position with no obvious propelling force aside from his magic, flamboyantly kicking around & generally playing in the skies like a child & occasionally looking down at the city & terrain below. Reminds me of Kattazhu & their Heavenly Palaces, he thought to himself, I don't think I'd mind having a vacation here, assuming they're as hospitable as the beauty of this place.

Grand Resplendent and Most Radiant Sunlit Pavilion
Stribog would eventually pause near a more secluded patch of ground near the pavilion before making a more simple jump onto the ground there, his present floating just above his head by a spiral of wind keeping it there. "Ah, wait, can't make the guests question me too much," he said as he attempted to grab the gift, only for it to be lifted farther up. "What the...?" he asked himself as he continued futilely leaping up at it, but even with enhanced jumping from his air magic, it continued flying out of his grasp. "Hmph!" he grunted out in frustration before his communications crystal floated out of his pocket, "I need to get a more unique method of transportation... Horus keeps screwing with this one." Moments later, his gift fell on top of his head, with Stribog catching it before it fell. "Ah, there we are," he said.

With him at his destination & his present in his hands, Stribog sauntered over to where the rest of the foreign dignitaries were, being careful not to somehow get caught up among them or in their path, although he did get his red envelope. Seeing that the others were not allowed inside yet, the Doll assumed that neither would he, & walked over to a more isolated spot near a wall in the area where he sat against the wall, seemingly doing wall sits — or maybe he was sitting by making the air beneath him dense enough that he could sit on top of it. Either way, he relaxed there with his present, which was a simple red box in yellow ribbons, in his lap, waiting for the order that they would be allowed in.

[Telros]

As the visitors streamed on, watchers of both orbit and of new entrants would see the latest arrivals trickle in, diplomats from the Tezekian Imperium. Much like the Galactic Republic of Alexzonya, they had first discovered the Roanian's through the negotiations for the Thunder Empire to join the GCC trade system. More intensive scrutiny had been given after that point, studying Roanian culture, politics, and their direction in the galaxy. While their views on Emperors and other matters were viewed as...quaint by some, the overall consensus was that it was a valuable trade market after the concessions given during the negotiations, complete with a simple tribute given during this party. Such low tariffs, compared to everyone else, was too much of a draw for the Imperium to even consider passing over some minor idiosyncrasies. When news of the party for the Emperor's new children had been received, an immediate request to attend had been sent to the Roanian government; once it was approved, a small diplomatic mission was gathered and sent using one of the diplomatic cruisers belonging to the Imperial Diplomatic Corps. Utilizing the common acceptance of red as the diplomatic, 'neutral', color, it was painted entirely so, even forgoing the flag of the Imperium, identified by its FoF tag and its clearance codes.

It appeared in-system, going from a blur into a ship as it slowed down, FTl bars retracting and communications began with the system authorities. After security clearances had been accepted and a course given to them for a dock, the ship made its journey to the orbital structure they were assigned to. With careful skill borne of many drills and voyages, the ship was put into its berth, leaving the crew to exit their couches, clean themselves off, put on their best dress uniforms and begin to relax in and around the docking area as the diplomatic party made their way to the party. It was two diplomats, one clearly senior, a Tezekian human, for once, and a younger avian whom was his second. They conferred with each other, making occasional gestures and gazes, but no words ever left their mouth. A small guard surrounded them, Imperial Armed Forces troops, cleared with the Roanian government with whatever weapons they would be allowed. If not allowed any, the troops would simply go without; their training and augments would allow them to get the diplomats out, should someone go beyond the pale and open fire.

They arrived in the room with the other diplomats and parties and began to mingle, starting with allies and known factors; the second seemed to drift over towards the New Dornalian party, looking to make conversation, while the senior made their way to the Alexzonyan group, eager to greet one of their trusted allies at a party even such as this. Eyes would be drawn to the senior's hands, which held a delicately wrapped box surrounded by a fine mesh of red silk, clearly their gift for the Emperor and his family.

[Phoenix Conclave]

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Rudan Prime - Imperial City
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When she had been asked to represent the Phoenix Domain for a second time to the Radiant Empire, at first Adala had considered turning down the assignment. The Domain’s first trip to Rudan Prime had seemed a debacle to her and she was certain the Rudanese would never have allowed her back anyway. Still though, diplomacy aside, she was actually curious about the ancient civilization that thus far had remained unknown and hidden to the Domain, so a chance to return and hopefully further direct diplomatic ties to Roania finally persuaded her.

Much like when she’d attended the festival here, her trip through Roanian space and down to Rudan Prime was fairly uneventful. The Diplomatic corps had been careful about ensuring that the Rudanese knew exactly who was coming, on what ship, at what time… Though the latter was actually dictated to the Phoenixi by the Rudanese traffic control. Still there had been no actual challenges or obstacles.
Also different this time was the addition of a second diplomat to accompany her, one Jerard Sims who was now walking back from a server carrying two drinks. The human looked very professional in his tailored slacks and jacket, the seemingly stereotypical diplomat in appearance. For her part, Adala had chosen to wear clothing tailored to match Rudanese styles. A formal dress of scarlet and gold trim covered her from neck to feet, with black and gold blossoms scattered on it’s surface. As a Reikoan, she could alter her fur color and pattern at will, and had chosen to mirror the dress, with scarlet and gold flowers on black. This pattern started at her neck and went down her arms, the portion of her back not covered by her dress, and back up her flowing tail, which she kept upright to keep it out of the way and from dragging on the ground. The dress had been made by a local tailor on special request, an expense the Domain had approved, and had arrived just in time for the event.

As Jerard handed her her drink, the man gestured with his own and pointed out several of the other foreign delegations, making note of the Dornalian and Alexzonyan parties. Adala made a mental note to try and talk to said groups if the opportunity presented itself. After all, even if they were already effectively allies, a little extra diplomacy rarely hurt, right?

[Communist Xomaniax]

Blothar of Urungus adjusted his loincloth for the fiftieth time, the delicate sea silks bunching up uncomfortably from the Ozlukar ambassador's persistent sweat. A larger apron of fine furs wrapped around his waist held together around the back with a clasp made of gold and rubies. He wore no shoes or sandals and for that he was happy, his people's feet had soles more than thick enough to keep them protected. He never understood how these Roanian folk walked around all day so constricted. Their heavy robes and thick cut footwear would cook even the mighty Blothar alive if he wasn't careful.

His task as ambassador to Roania had been deliberate. He'd been chosen by his father, the Ushtar Uzgoth, to represent his people here, so far away from home. So far he thought he'd been doing a good job, securing trade between the two and even wrangling some level of recognition of the legitimacy of his father's empire. For someone who had only just learned to read, the mighty Ozlukar warrior considered that a herculean success indeed. His other brothers couldn't be trusted for such a thing, they were too aggressive, not good with words. These elf-kind, the Roanians, knew words if they knew anything at all. The wrong one could spell disaster.

This was why he, Blothar wun Urungus wun dar Shataz, was taking his personal vehicle to the location of the Emperor's party. The Rudanese royalty were an odd lot, easily ignored as they were a reclusive lot. He'd met Emperor Damalin before, though only the once. He'd only ever heard Cao, the heir apparent, referenced. His presence here was vital, he'd heard the rumors about the young emperor-to-be. If he could strike a chord with Cao here, if he could impress him, relations would be assured later on. The weight of evening felt heavy atop the colossal beast's shoulders. He only hoped he could carry it.

Before long Blothar arrived, his special goggles allowing him to see in the bright sunlight. His folk were adapted to a much dimmer clime, the sun on Ozun rarely shining on the surface and never shining in the ocean depths. His personal vehicle roared across the narrow lanes of the wealthy capital, careening around corners at speeds great enough to slide across the ground and slam into walls. The young ambassador kept the pedal floored, pillars of black exhaust firing out of the stovepipe exhausts like rockets. A fat, webbed hand working the stick like a magic wand, shifting from gear to gear as his mass of scrap and power hurtled in the direction of the Pavilion.

The party guests would have heard Blothar long before seeing him, and felt him soon afterward. The screech of the engine was loud enough to break the sound barrier a dozen times over, with the deep rumble of its power being felt in the chest just as he cleared the horizon. A keen eye could track him by the maelstrom of dust and smoke he kicked up. Gozhgog, the young ambassador's partner, rose from his position in the bed of the truck, planting a fat webbed foot on the roof. He raised the mammoth banner of the Urungus tribe, all black with a two-headed Ozlukar decapitating an alien, and crossed bones beneath it. His beautiful Gozhgog, wearing less than even he was, his beautiful stony grey skin glistening in the sun, raised a flare gun and fired it off into the air, clearing the six chambers in an instant. Six bursts of gold filled the sky, another traditional Ozlukar announcement of arrival.

"Gog!" Roared Blothar, barely audible over the engine. "I'm cutting the engine, we're gonna coast the rest of the way!" Gozhgog thumbed his snout trunk playfully in response, the two beings grabbing hands and holding tight as Blothar killed the power. The engine cut off with a sharp whine that he made a note to investigate the cause of later, and all at once the truck was propelling itself through sheer momentum. The miles passed quickly at first but slowed. The truck began to slow down quickly, until it finally reached its stop just beyond the Pavilion's outer steps. The door opening with a loud creak, Blothar emerged and rose. And rose, and rose. At full height he was head and shoulders above Gozhgog, who was already slightly taller than most of his people. Blothar knew he got it from his father, who was larger still.

Clearing the entrance with a grace unbecoming of Ozlukar, the two soon found themselves at the party entrance. Gozhgog rose the Urungus banner high and announced his lord.

"Oi!" He began. "Presenting Blothar of Urungus, called the Brute, who is ambassador to Roania and son of the god Ushtar Uzgoth, ruler of all lands and mightiest champion of the cosmos." Blothar nodded to his lover and stepped forward, a crudely wrapped present in his massive hand. Now if he could only find where to put it. . .

[The Equestrian Realms]

A soft pop, and the silent fluttering of the appearing flowers and butterflies, was all that announced the arrival of the Equestrian delegation. They were headed by Fluttershy (Queen of Nature), who was seen as the best representation for what was essentially a giant foal party. She was accompanied of course by a few of her loyal guard bedecked in their armour; and a couple more professional diplomats on the off-chance there was political work to be done, and her highness had wandered off. Which was likely.

"Look Auntie Fluttershy, everything is so tall and pretty!"

Oh, and a little nicorn Nyx, who was bouncing excitedly as her cat-eyes gleamed.

[Dyste]

Dystan Royal Airship Gungnir

The airship of the Dystan monarch was not a warship, but rather an unarmed luxury liner built for comfort rather than battle. The interior was built much like a first-class cruiser, with a lounge, bar, library, even a hot tub for those who wished for a nice soak on long trips. Regardless, this was still work for most of them, and for Lissah, she was on duty protecting their ruler. Standing at the side of one of the doors, the paladin rested against her battleaxe, covered head-to-toe in shining golden armor, watching out the window as they arrived at their destination. "So how exactly were we able to get an airship into this far in space? I mean, this isn't a spaceship, is it?" She knew this place wasn't on their homeland, but she didn't know an airship could travel this distance. It didn't seem that far a trip either.

"Quite simple, really," a silver-haired elf wearing a black suit and a purple cape sitting on one of the lounge chairs replied, looking over a tome. "See, there are spells that can move people over long distances... teleportation, if you will. Well, there is a specific version of this method that, by our knowledge, has no limit to the distance. The main thing needed is a proper location in mind, and it'll take us there. Of course, making a precise leap is risky no matter how much preparation is taken into account, so a generalized location on this planet was needed, hence why we didn't just jump to our destination. It's really quite fascinating how we can determined the area needed in order to..."

"Okay, okay, enough, Reglay," Lissah took off her helmet to reveal a green-skinned woman with short black hair and small tusks. "I don't need the magic lecture. I get the gist. What I don't get is why in Bahamut's name His Majesty thought her coming along was a good idea!" Gesturing to the bar.

Sitting there was what appeared to be a humanoid shark person, although 'Sarkesh' was their preferred term. She wore a simple brown and white dress, and had black hair over her head. After she chugged down a mug of ale, she gave a big, toothy grin to the orc, "C'mon, Lissah, I'll be on my best behaviour. I'm really excited t'see this place, I heard that's where this friend of mine was from. Is it true they go nude here?"

Lissah's eyes twitched as she realized the Sarkesh's mistake, "Oh, for the love of... Diega. You are thinking of Rohanians. ROHANE. WITH AN 'H'! This is Roania, and they are Roanians! Could you not have taken one moment to actually look up the proper name of this place, or did being the Dread Pirate and such for so long make you illiterate!?"

Diega rolled her eyes, "Hey, that's not fair! ... I was the Dread Corsair, Lissah. But c'mon, I haven't been that in a long time. Lighten up, will ya? I'm not here t'cause trouble, I just felt like comin'. 'sides, didn't ya want a diverse mix of races t'show these people Dyste ain't just Draconids and kobolds?"

"Quite right, Diega," A voice from the room Lissah was guarding said. Entering the room was a towering draconic being, about eleven feet in height, mostly black in scale colour but with a chest and stomach of gold. Tyroth Blackfang was someone whose presence could be felt whenever he was in a room. For a king, he was quite modest in attire, no crown or jewelry, just wearing a mantle over his back (covering his wings in the process), and a black scepter with a gold dragon pattern coiling around it. "I do not want to give them the impression that non-draconic beings are not welcome to my land. Besides, Lissah, Diega has more than proven her worth over the centuries. Surely you are not telling me that her efforts should not be rewarded with a chance to be part of my entourage for diplomatic missions like this?"

The orc growled and mumbled something under her breath, but nevertheless deferred to her king, "No, Your Majesty. I trust any and all decisions made by you." Meanwhile, the ship's pilot, a small reptilian who strongly resembled the one with the Dornalian delegation, signaled to the others that the ship was about to land. "Well, here goes nothing, I guess. Your Majesty, I trust that you have done your research on these people?"

"What I could find," Tyroth shrugged, "Our intel on this place is rather limited, I am afraid, but that is why we are here to learn." He peered out the window, "Yes, this is far enough. I shall enter in my own way. Anyone care to join me?" A few of the little reptiles, also known as kobolds, rushed forward excitedly, while Tyroth moved his mantle so that he could outstretch his wings. "Alright, then, I shall see the rest of you in a few minutes. Happy landings!" And with that he leaped out of the airship with several kobolds in tow!

"TYROTH!!" Lissah shouted, but it was too late; the King of Dyste swooped down to the ground in the Pavilion, the kobolds following him, floating down as if falling on an invisible slide after the king. "Ugh... why can't he ever just leave the airship like a normal person?" The airship landed a short time afterwards, allowing the other passengers to join up with the king. Hopefully for the paladin things would be more stress-free for her than the journey here was...

[Legokiller]

What a dangerous move this is for Fluffykins. Ever since her dismissal presidency of her Father, it was hard not to be entangled with the embarrassment and politics of Silverdale since an early age. But now as a pony to appease the people with the campaign promises for a better tomorrow, without being like the somewhat aggressive with the sense of Justice of Littlepip and the bleedheart softie of Aqua Crystal. Their focus was on foreign states like the Crystal Spires first and fight slavers, not Silverdale first. But that’s what Fluffykins ended up dealing with her presidentials issues: Silverdale First. Native and extradimensional monster attacks, anomalies in the south pole with strange melts during winter, and worse of all the arrival of the heir to the monarchy: Princess Snow. All with the cherry on top with them being in outer space!

Okay. President Fluffykins was a nervous wreck at this point. Not only did she had to worry about new political rivals cropping up for the strange and well, out of water and shy princess, but anything could go wrong. The Roanians landed a spacecraft for the delegation to be escorted to the planet where the royal big head is at. She wasn’t sure if this is a good idea. But her secretary assured that they can build more diplomatic ties and allowed to connect with Princess Snow a lot better. As long as the spacecraft is still functional and no would be horror scenario takes hold. Fluffykins knew Brownie Sugarcube can handle affairs back home fairly, as she was a good hearted woman who cares about the people, but didn’t want to throw that possibility at Silverdale.

She walked back to the conference room to moan a little. After what happened in Snow Light with the Incident, this journey in space was quite salted up. Oh she better put the makeup on and the nice suit and ties right afterwards. Right? Well after someone tried to take her life, well her facade of being strong for the people was tough as hell!

“Um… President Fluffykins? If I may, are you fine if I come inside?” Spoke the mystic and chilling, but pleasant and oddly shy voice of the ice princess herself. Literally. As the alicorn dwarfed President Fluffykin in sheer size, her entire white coat body was living ice that was organic like a pony’s and almost functioned as one. Yet, her regale body with a bulging belly did not need to breathe to survive, so the vacuum of space and any sharp cold was a breezee. It was the result of her years, if not centuries, of being an oracle to Avala and winter itself as she was blessed to transcend into a living being of winter itself. All thanks to her natural talent of Ice magic with her bluey snowflake cutie mark with smaller flakes and a cyan heart.

“You’re welcome to come in.” President Fluffykins straightened herself up. “So, how are you thinking about this whole trip so far? It’s a shocker, I understand.”

“Well… this is the first time I ever left Earth and… it’s frightening to be honest.” Snow shook a little. “From a isolated palace with a few contacts in the middle of the South Pole to an entire party across the cosmos… I’m not sure if I’m ready for this.” Princess Snow smuttered a little. “It’s a great leap for all of us.”

“You said it Princess.” President Fluffykins said causally. “To be frank, I’m anxious about this event. Sure, intelligence reports of our allies being there, however our position as a country is one small landmass in an ununited world to space faring civilizations who can eliminate us if we make the wrong impression. Not trying to be paranoid about the other attendants, but we must stay cautious.”

“I suppose… but as Silverdaleans who show love and kindness even in the harshest winters, they will give us a good impression and footholding for interrogations.” Princess Snow replied. “At leas what my mother told me.”

President Fluffykins lightened up. “That said, you’re in luck ice princess! There is a special guest that will grab your attention once we arrive, and I don’t need to ruin the surprise.” She winked. Of course, it was the Dystans as they visited Silverdale during the heyday of grand exploration to find the old Golden Herdite lands, and beyond! Princess Snow’s mother Queen Aurora ruled the nation for almost a millenia and very popular with the people, and said to aid Dyste in a time of war. President Fluffykins knew that the news had spread to Dyste, and this wonderful surprise will shock the King. Plus allow the president of Dorneland to meet the princess in person, and talk to him about their cooperation.

Princess Snow felt rather clueless of what the surprise would be, but anticipated what could be it. “I… I’ll look forward to it.”

“Awesome.” President Fluffykins smiled widely. “ I know you have a mastery of ice magic, so let’s not beat around the bush: can you conjure up an ice dress.”

Princess Snow smiled a little. “I can. I can create anything out of ice after all and… well it’s my surprise for everyone to see.”

“I look forward to it princess.” President Fluffykins replied.

---

Thankfully for the Silverdalean delegation, the journey across the cosmos to the Pavilion was a smooth trip. A remedy for the president, as she needed to keep a straight appearance and act the role as a leader of Silverdale. Allies and foreign representatives alike are gathered around the front gate. Fluffykins the pegasus tighed up her red tie on her black suit, and adjusted her bun-back red mane for the meeting.

“Ahem.” Fluffykins coughed as she looked towards Snow’s personal guard. Unlike the suited ponies for the Secretive Service who were modestly lightly armed at best, the two old members of the Royal Guard of Silverdale were on the high calibre side and strong warriors in their own rights. After all, they were in the special force unit of the First Order of the Mystic Guardians! Two elves: one covered in rainbow plated armor, and the other clothed in heavenly celestial chainmail and a cutie pale skinned and light blue woman. Behind them and Princess Snow herself was two arctic elf maids that were color coded by pink and blue hair!

Fluffykins did trust them to protect her but a slight reminder is needed. “Just remember Alvis and Glacia, you’re here to guard me as much as Princess Snow. If all goes well, I’ll throw a good Ice Cream party at Penguins’ Ice Treats back at the capital.”

“Oh, that sounds great maiden President!” Glacia cheerfully replied. She was very happy to be here, and given the chance she performed a spacewalk with her fiancé Alvis and Princess Snow on the ship, it was worth it! So much so, that her heart was beating with joy and it was awe inspiring.

“You do have a good tongue President. Heh, we’ll do our best.” Alvis smirked under his helmet. Oh, he was having a good time so far. Seriously, as a dragon elf with equipment built for transformation in the vacuum of space, he enacted as a dragon in space. But enough chatter about their fun experience with Glacia and the gang, there is work to be done.


“That’s the spirit.” Fluffykins clapped her hooves gather. “Now stay frosty, as the show is about to begin.” The second large member nodded as well, who was nine feet tall and somewhat dizzy from the trip. Still the pink bubblegum giantess is ready to help with the President as well.

[Roania]

Damalin smiled slightly, unsure at the sight of the giant. "It is a... pleasure to meet you, Jarl Shadowslayer." The Jarl had obviously shaken the Emperor to his core for some reason, and he kept looking between Rowan and Vidar in some confusion, his deep blue eyes seeming to lighten as he thought. "And you as well, Lady Amren. I... well. I look forward to speaking to you both later."

"Husband, stop staring." AiQien jabbed the Emperor in his shoulder. "You act like you've never seen a man before." The Imperial Consort smiled at Rowan. "You are, all three of you, welcome at our table. Right, husband? Jealous, my dear? Leave looking like that to the young."

"I..." He shook his head, and directed his next words to Rowan. "Yes, my nephew wants to meet you. I think I sent you his picture a few days ago. He's been interested in speaking with you since that... incident... with the first fleet." Damalin rolled his eyes. "We'll talk on the way, though. We've got to hurry to our seats." The Imperial family, and Xeiri's family, had been given two tables at the back of the party.

Damalin sat at the center of his table, with AiQien on his left, and Amren on her left. And Vidar on his right, and Rowan on his right. To Rowan's right was a handsome Reixan who seemed roughly her age, with the same coloring as the Emperor. They started talking immediately. Also on the table were the Emperor's brother and his wife (who were, as usual, fully absorbed in each other, not even looking as their son flirted with the Empress of the Imperium.)

Valcione had already been led to sit with Seig, Ta Min, Faren and Aecenae.

But the person who first came to the stage wasn't even a Roanian. At least, by birth. Elyas Halfmoon, First Duke Stalgardr, Captain of the *Kaedeli* Guard, and son-in-law of the Emperor stepped up, accompanied a moment later by his glowing, smiling, and beautiful wife Asen Meili, whose own pregnancy was already beginning to show. They were soon joined by ten bannermen in full ceremonial armor, five of whom stood on his right and five of whom stood on Meili's left.

Meili spoke, first, though, her voice amplified by the architecture of the building. "Nge-hao! We will be your guides for this event. There are no assigned seats. Right now, in fact, there are no seats at all for anyone but the families of the lucky parents right. But I would ask you to join together and mingle amongst your groups. This is a celebration of life. And I'm considering it a dry run for my own in a few months." She placed her palm on her rounded abdomen and grinned. There was a nervous chuckle from the imperial half of the pavilion. "Traditionally, amongst our people, red eggs and ginger are eaten by the mother of the newborn, prepared according to an ancient recipe that I am told my sister is heartily sick of. You will not be expected to take part in that feast. However."

In the voice of a man who who had practiced this hours and still didn't think he had it right, her husband now spoke. "My men are now going amongst the guests, handing out red envelopes." Indeed, Imperial Guardsmen were circling the crowd, handing out the envelopes as said. Everyone received one. They were a bright scarlet colour, and tightly sealed, except for a tag at the top right corner. "Please do not open these until the word is given." He looked back, over the crowd. "The Honourable Grand Secretary wishes to speak a few words."

Seig rose to his feet. "I will be brief." He had dressed in his finest gold and black robes. "Thank you to our honoured foreign friends for taking the time to come here. It mean a lot to me and my cabinet, and I am sure it means a lot to the honourable Prince and his consort. And to honour the occasion further..." He spoke a few sharp words in Rudanese, then followed up in several other imperial languages.

The effect was immediate. The Roanians on the other end of the park began to drift in to stand amongst the foreigners. A tall, distinguished Taikun accompanied by three warriors in crested armor. The Mohenoraj, garbed in pale yellow, all flesh hidden within his robes, looking through an expressionless mask, followed by two Myaari in similar position, their masks now smiling. A knot of Nmmr that slipped to the front and then slumped into a slouch in a particularly sunny part of the garden. The Khanykhan, taller even than the Kadrians, dressed in the formal attire of his people, revealing that his body seemed to be chiseled from the stone itself. The glowering, ancient, evil woman, who treated the others with something akin to disdain, and immediately had her phoenix-crested guards surround her when she had obeyed the Grand Secretary's order. Tonhi and Laoetzi and men and nmmr and aliens from worlds that had no contact with the west... all came to join the guests. As well as two large, hulking figures, nearly as large as the great Ozlukar... towering over even Tyroth. They leaned forward and rested on their knuckles.

Meili spoke again. "Now that everyone is properly situated, we will be having the servants go around with some food and water for those who want and need. Please, feel free to have a drink and a bite." The Princess smiled. 'My nephew and niece are being fed themselves. We will begin in a minute."

[Dyste]

After Tyroth landed and his kobolds floated safely behind him, he waited patiently for the rest of the Dystan delegation. “Evidently they must not like flying, little ones,” he said to his kobold staff, who nodded; all kobolds thought of themselves as little dragons, and the prospect of flying through the air always appealed to them.

Lissah and a black-armored figure with no weapon in sight arrived at the front, followed by Diega and the others, “I trust you had your fun, Tyroth,” while the king was fine with anyone addressing him by his given name, only his more trusted subordinates and closest friends generally did so. The orcess happen to be both of these, in spite of her frustrations with her king’s antics sometimes. “Looks like you didn’t break anything, that’s good.”

“How considerate you are for me, Lissah!” Tyroth put his hand on his paladin’s shoulder, all the while gesturing the other armored knight to get the delegation sorted. “But you know a little glide will not harm me.”

“I was referring to the ground, not you,” Lissah retorted. “Seriously, a meteor could fall from the sky and your thick head would protect you.”

“Alright, alright, I understand,” Tyroth threw up his hands, “You are here for my safety along with the rest of the delegation, the only challenges we should be facing are diplomatic ones.” He had taken the opportunity to see some of the other delegations coming in. “Ah, look, Lissah, it is the Dornalians!” He had a few diplomatic meetings with them, and recently had encountered them during a visit to Malgrave. “Even President Haggar is here! You remember that meeting, do you not?”

Lissah rolled her eyes, “How could I forget the epic tale of manly showboating, Your Majesty? Are you going to write a travel journal about that adventure as well?” Meanwhile the kobolds waved to Coach, included of their number was a kobold with the exact same scale pattern of the king. This was Tarka, or ‘Minityroth’ as most called her, and she was the personal assistant of the famous monarch. She was the one who carried the gift for the imperial children at the moment.

Granted, not everyone here was familiar to them, or vice versa; Tyroth may be one of the most famous figured in all of Mystria, but this was a land where almost nobody had heard of Dyste or their adventurer king. There seemed to be people who looked similar to kitsune, which did remind the older members of a particular one that resided in Dyste long ago. Another one that caught their attention for obvious reasons were the Ozlukar duo of Blothar and Gozhgog, “Hey, look, yer not the biggest guest after all!” Diega smirked. “Gotta see if I can get a ride with them sometime!”

Tyroth didn’t seem fazed by this as one might think, he had done plenty of diplomacy with giants and full-on dragons before so dealing with someone like him wouldn’t be too bad. Perhaps he could see about befriending the big guy. But no, the one that actually caught him off-guard was the Silverdalen delegation. Of course he had relations with Silverdale for a long time, being a friend of Queen Aurora in the past and still having ties to the republic it now was. He did know Fluffykins, having met her a few times, and the larger pink-haired woman he also knew. Even that blue-haired elven knight looked vaguely familiar to him. But then… “... Snow?”

“What’re ya talkin’ about?” Diega looked up, “It ain’t snowin’ in these parts.”

“No,” Tyroth shook his head, “Princess Snow.” It had been a long time since he had last seen the princess, back when her mother was still the ruler of Silverdale. She had disappeared for quite some time, but recently had been found by a special team their government had formed. “I had heard about her return, but… what happened to her?” He wasn’t talking about the pregnancy, which was obvious even with the dress she had formed with ice. But it was as if her body had been coated with ice, if she stood still she could pass for a statue. He knew he needed to talk with her, not just about that but just to catch up with someone he had not seen for ages.

But before he could do anything else, the welcoming delegation had begun. Tyroth, being a father and grandfather himself, could definitely appreciate the idea of a celebration for the children of the imperial family. While this was happening, they were all given red envelopes. ‘Minityroth’, who appeared to hold some sort of senior rank amongst the kobolds, made sure they followed the instructions not to open it yet. Diega seemed about to, before Lissah shot the Sarkesh a look that she hoped conveyed “If you open that letter I will shop off your arm, turn it into Sushi and feed it to the kobolds.” Or something along those lines at least.

Tyroth meanwhile smiled at the fact that the colours black and gold seemed to hold some meaning to them given Seig’s attire. Those were the official colours of Dyste, notably because he himself was those colours, as were his offspring. Nevertheless, as the locals began to mingle with the group, he could see two more figures larger than him, seeming to be guards of some sort. Regardless, he was there to socialize, and while the Ozlukar and those two figures were the largest, he was probably next alongside the Alicorn Princess, so he had to be careful when moving around while happily talking to anyone who wished to. After all, while his strength and skill made him a good adventurer, it was charisma and presence that were paramount to being a good king.

[New Dornalia]

Mike had been to a lot of parties in his day. Norton had been to a lot of ceremonies and diplomatic gladhanding in his day, likewise. However, as the two witnessed the cavalcade of summitgoers, well wishers, and individuals with dramatic entrances, it was obvious that the Roanians had planned a most memorable event. No one was going to forget this day. After all, in between Blothar and Gozhgog's skillful entry with a massive automobile--Norton was reminded of his cousin Jim and his beloved lifted and chopped Dodge he used to deliver any number of lunch specials--Tyroth and his kobold entourages' dynamic entry from above, the coming of President Fluffykins with Princess Snow and her stalwart retainers from the Arctic Knights, and the passing of red envelopes, there was plenty to witness.

Now of course, the party was to start soon. And with so many old friends to meet, there'd be a lot of ground the Dornies would have to cover. So far, the Sunsetters were making pleasant discussion with the Dornalian party--shooting the breeze on the weather, the significance of the occasion, so on. However, it was clear there would be a lot more people to talk to, considering that a lot of people wanted to be at this event.

So, after an unarmed Marine--who showed up in a rather well kept Marine Corps uniform with its olive drab and khaki button up shirt and trousers, with the ubiquitous M1 helmet bedecked with the letters “MP” in white which were repeated on an armband in black on the left arm--was beamed down to the pile of gifts after the security staff on the Principe de Asturias agreed to watch over the goods, Coach, Mike, Norton made their rounds.

Yogi was also released to mill about, but Yogi himself continued to mingle with the Sunsetters. He was used to crowds and used to dealing with people, for sure. Being a novelty wrestling bear in a Dornalian pro-wrestling promotion tended to thicken one’s skin against awkward scenes and so on. Still, he was having a good time chatting with the Sunsetters, and so he continued to stay talking with them. Namely, Yogi asked, “Anyway. Yogi feels this is a most auspicious occasion, and it is good to see you all again.”

***

To begin, Coach waved back at the kobold retainers with great enthusiasm. In fact, he walked over to the party, with the kind of good cheer one may expect to bring when greeting an old friend. Waving a bit, the kobold said simply to all and sundry, with a customary Dornie bow and shake manuever offered to the members of the party and a keen eye to keeping calm--this was a party, but a little tact was always appreciated-- "The Kinginid and his retainers. I will admit, I didn't expect to see you guys here, but hey, when there's magic, festivities and friends, distance is no object. How have things been?"

***

Meanwhile, Mike greeted President Fluffykins and Princess Snow with his own bow and greeting with a handshake, going, "President Fluffykins and Princess Snow, I presume? Mike Haggar, President of the Colonial Republic of Earth. It's a pleasure to meet you both again. This is quite the party the Roanians are hosting, no?"

***

Meanwhile, Norton, who partook of a drink, saw the avian from the Tezekian party wandering over in the Dornalians’ direction. Considering that the Dornalians were here to mingle--and the avian seemed quite intent on having a chat with the party, Norton took it upon himself to meet with the avian.

As such, Norton greeted the avian from the Tezekian party with the customary bow and handshake, noticing the avian’s articulated hands. Turning on the charm, as he had done on many an occasion, Norton said simply with a smile, "Oh! Hello. Name's Norton Simons, Secretary of State, Colonial Republic of Earth. What brings you to this party from the Tezekian Imperium?"

[Shwe Tu Colony]

Grand Resplendent and Most Radiant Sunlit Pavilion
"Food & water... food & water," Stribog muttered to himself, "Oh, Foehn winds! I never brought my own." With that, he started trying to push through the crowd with no magical assistance — or in other words, pushing with immense effort & with little result for the Doll. "Akh! U-uhm... excuse me! Pardon! Coming through!" he shouted out as he navigated through them. Eventually, he would get through them, only to pop out of them with enough speed that he somehow ended up suspended in midair in front of the gates. Rather than use his magic, Stribog flopped about comedically, somehow staying in the air for a few seconds before he crashed into the floor, spreading dust around even when there probably wouldn't be. "Oh, my crystal," he said to himself, removing his face from the floor, "Hopefully it isn't damaged too."

He proceeded to fish his communication crystal out of his pocket & gazed into it, before then putting it away. With his message now relayed, he got up & waited in front of the pavilion for around half of a minute, whereupon a purple vortex appeared in the road in front. After another moment, a wagon of barrels pulled by some sort of mechanical golem-horse rushed out of the portal, charging several meters beyond its intended stop of just in front of the portal before then planting its front feet down & turning back around, the wagon's contents & seemingly fragile wood somehow remaining completely unharmed despite the obnoxiously loud crashes of both. Now close enough to where it should be, the horse snorted & shook its head, its exposed gears & mechanisms beginning to calm down.

"Ah, good boy!" Stribog said, running up to the creature & stroking its head a few times before then sauntering over to the wagon, "Let's see what we have..." He extracted one of the casks, only to fall backwards from how surprisingly light it was. "What the...!" he yelled as the barrel rolled off of his body & tapped the wagon, "Wait, just how many of these are...?" He swiped his left hand in a ninety degree arc in front of him, his wrist bending towards himself at the end of this motion. Accompanying this movement was a gust of wind of moderate strength that tipped over or lifted several of the casks in the wagon, with these barrels being caught by either the wagon, the horse, or a wind barrier that Stribog then created. "Foehn winds! How can we already be out?" he asked himself as the rest of the casks still in the wagon were suddenly sent flying a few feet into the air, levitating just above the ground.

"Tada!" yelled out the drunken Domeses of Liberty Sforza Libertas, who had somehow been hiding among the barrels despite being around ten feet tall & in her usual skimpy outfit, "You..." She hiccuped, took one of the casks, & turned it on above her mouth, chugging for a good few seconds before disabling it & setting it aside. "You thought that you could hide this paaarrrrty from me, huh? W-well... I'm here now!"
Drunk? Intoxicated? Inebriated? None of those words could describe Sforza well enough, with her infamous drunken ecstasy & party spirit — she was not just the life of a party, but its very soul, & was unafraid of just about anything, especially shame. It was, of course, a bit problematic, but most people put up with it anyway; unfortunately for her, Stribog was not most despite his own fun-loving nature. In her presence, the Domeses of Air became noticeably more serious, acting as a sort of babysitter for Sforza whenever she was in her intoxicated state, which was always.

Stribog groaned out in displeasure. "Don't tell me you drank it all?" he asked, his tone exasperated at her foolishness.
"Pfffttt, of course not!" she said, chugging from the same cask again & draining its contents, "Whoops, this one's out!" A white light appeared around the barrel's cap & popped off with the sound of chains being shattered, & Sforza looked inside. "Wait, I got a bit more!" she placed it onto the wagon's floor & dove headfirst into it, tipping the cask over, "Aw, dang it! My hair drained it all." She threw the barrel back into the portal & noticed Stribog's wind barrier. "Oh, lemme... lemme help you with that," she got out of the wagon & began to gather the emtpy casks with an impressive speed, chucking all but one of them into the portal, "There we are!"

Suddenly, the mature, feminine voice of the Domeses of Foreign Laws rang in both of their ears. "Hey!" she began, "Tell Sforza to put some clothes on. Apparently, this civilization prohibits her sort of... lack of attire. & if these rumors are true, do not reveal that you are Dolls. I have heard that they may be heavily opposed to your & our usage of souls."
"Ugh, fiiinnneee," Sforza whined, "Guess I'll use this, though!" She threw her barrel into the air & blasted it with a white puff of magical energy, which, upon impact with the barrel, separated it into its constituent strips of wood & metal, which fell & proceeded to float around her. "Now, now... let's see," the strips began to pack themselves around her body, bending as needed to fit, & formed what now resembled a leather dress with two hoops of white metal near the tops & bottoms, "There we..." She drunkenly hiccuped. "Go! It's perfect, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah," Stribog dismissively agreed, "Anyway, I think you'll need to help me carry those drinks in."
"Oooofff course! Let's get this started!" Sforza began to drag out a few of the barrels, throwing them onto her head & balancing them, "Hey, Stribog! How many do you think I can stack?"
"... try all of them?" he suggested, really just wanting her to do all of the work as a sort of punishment for how she had drained a majority of them earlier, "Which ones are left, anyway?"
"Ah, well, we—"
"Wait, no, don't!" Stribog ordered after realizing he indirectly told her that she could drink some more of the already low amount present, waving his hands in a panic to tell her to stop.

"Nnnnope! Too bad!" she levitated an empty barrel from the portal to her, whereupon she then grabbed it & threw it with accuracy, but also with awfully clumsy movements, at Stribog, who shot his right hand into the sky & summoned a barrier of wind that instead caused the barrel to fly upwards.
"Let's... let's try to be reasonable, here," he begged of her, "Just tell me how many there are, okay?"
"Fine, fine! I'll do it, normally, ya buzzkill!" she pouted, placing one of the barrels on the ground, opening it, looking inside, & closing it, repeating this process for the rest of them, "Aaiiggghhttt, we got two things of Canopian Lætnes, two Canopian Hunigs, & two Emerald Wines. Not surprising. Really wish we'd have gotten something a bit more interesting. Like, I don't know, Heart Stoppers?"
"We're celebrating the birth of twins. We're not here to have a funeral!" Stribog seethed, "Oh... whatever. Just help me get the drinks in."

"Suurree thing!" Sforza levitated the two Emerald Wine barrels over to the other Domeses, who kept them suspended in the air with a pair of small tornadoes; the Domeses of Liberty herself, though kept her casks in the air by liberating them of gravity — much like herself, as she floated a short distance above the ground. Eventually, the two Domeses would reenter the pavilion, whereupon Sforza would shrink herself to a more sensible height of around six feet & the golem-horse would leave. Once inside, they would deposit their casks where the rest of the drinks were.

Wine (Emerald Wine). Sekka Verndara's Emerald Wine is a mildly sweet & slightly spicy wine with the flavor of green tea in it that always tastes fairly chilly, even when it feels warm, & gives a refreshing feeling as it goes down your throat. Due to an interesting process, Emerald Wine is also available with no alcohol content while also retaining the taste of alcohol.
Mead (Canopian Hunig): Canopian Hunig is a type of slightly dry mead spiced with vanilla & the bark of the Clozis tree, giving it a slightly spicy taste & a fair amount of vanilla flavor.
Rum (Canopian Lætnes). Also known as "Canopian Sorrow Drowner," the taste of this rum is known for its fairly sweet taste of sugarcane & molasses as well as an above-average ABV content of 50%.