Risorgimento! Parthonopia is Reborn (Closed/IC/GO)

by **Agoslia** » Fri Feb 10, 2017 8:43 pm

"There is only one god, and His name is Death. And there is only one thing we say to Death: 'not today'." - Syrio Forel, fictional character in Game of Thrones, 2011

Streets of Avelino
Southeastern Sector of the City
29th of December, 2016
0625 local time

The gray smoke continued to blanket the eastern bridge and surrounding areas, its smoke proving to be an advantage to the advancing Parthonopian infantry who used its kind fog to mask their approach. What the smoke could not mask however was the sound of boots on asphalt and the Agoslians and Avelinos heard it well indeed. What they did not expect though was a thousand voices emanating from the center of the fog, screaming "HUZZAH! VIVA LA PARTHONOPIA!"

Reports having already come in from the western front spoke of the ferocity of the skirmish, and of remaining Agoslian and Avelino troops having retreated. With this knowledge at hand and a large unseen force striking terror into their hearts, the blind shots into the smoke temporarily weakened as a majority of the men simply froze. This would prove a blunder as a lessened assault on the bridge gave an opening for the Parthonopians to push forward.

Bullets would occasionally hit home as some Parthonopians would fall down, their lives ended by unseen bullets. But where one Parthonopian falls down, two more behind him continues to march forward. The force was unrelenting, a large blob of dark blue inching closer and closer with each passing second.

As the first hostiles exit the cloud and enter Avelino accompanied by five P 40s, they were greeted by the sight of Agoslian and Avelino infantry and a couple of IFVs, those that had survived the barrage of artillery fire just a few minutes ago. The infantry had found cover behind the remaining walls of buildings demolished, and had been firing blindly. But as the hostiles came into view, their accuracy improved as their locations were instantly spotted. With that, the infantry and IFV's fired as if their lives depended on it. They would not let this line fall. They would not die here today. Oh no, not today.

by **Caer aMuirehen** » Sun Feb 12, 2017 2:10 pm

The room was hot and tense, they had been in here talking for over an hour now. President Stark had gathered his cabinet and key advisors to address the issue of the Parthonopian Conflict. It seemed that half the world was now involved, and the had just caught word yesterday that Dii populus may be preparing legions to send to aid the new upstart leader Field Marshal Ignazio Victor Friuli. It had become clear that Caer aMuirehen could not sit idle, but they did not wield the power of other nations and must choose their actions wisely. That had been the cause for much debate. Ragnar Malmstrom, the secretary of defense had continually pushed for a bombing of the Parthonopian army in and around Avelino. From their new Gebetan carrier, the CAN Seawolf, they could launch an attack from the sea, over air, and do some serious damage he had explained. Admiral Bernard Legrand, head of the Caer aMuirehen Navy, was of similar heart. He claimed it was time to show the world the might of the Caer aMuirehen Navy. Maverick had to respect the heart of these two men. For years Gebeta had been working on naval vessels for Caer aMuirehen. Over the last few months they had been brought across the small sea between the two countries by tugboats. They have moved the ships in the cover of darkness to avoid disturbing or arousing the suspicion of neighbors. They would be in debt to Gebeta for years to come, but they now owned a sizeable navy for such a small country.

Brenna Storm, the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, had seen the issue much differently than Ragnar or Bernard. We cannot just show up guns blazing and blowing thing up, she had said. What would the world think of us then? We are a small nation, we can not afford to get in a pissing contest with countries around the world. This is not the time to “show our strength”, this is our time to show the world we are a smart nation, a calculated nation, a nation built on bettering the world, not aggressively attacking it. We should send aid to our allies and the citizens of Parthonopia, not ships and planes. Maverick could also see the sound logic in Brenna’s plan, it was calculated and avoided the possible outcomes that an outright attack could have.

Maverick had been deep in thought while the rest of the room continued the discussion, but then he heard something that grabbed his attention. It was a slender woman sitting next to Monica Soren, the Secretary of International Trade. Monica had asked for this women to attend, saying she was one of the brightest minds in her entire department. Maverick was starting to think Monica might be right. “What about the foreign aid group CHAO from Corsetto. We could offer to aid them by offering troops, ships and aircraft too their cause. In doing so we could gain a serious trade ally when this conflict was over”. Surprisingly Ragnar was the first to respond. “The girl is bright beyond her years. This would get our ships close to the action, we could monitor the situation, and if things change we will already have firepower down there”. The admiral jumped in next, “We must go in serious force though, we can show the world our naval power without having to fire a single shell!”. Brenna, always the voice of reason was never known for being quite. “What if we send a huge force down there, who protects us? What is to stop a Dii legion from landing right on our shores, then what?”. This caused a serious stir in the room.
Maverick slapped his hand down on the table, enough he said sternly. I think that this could be a very good plan. We will not send the entire navy, we must still protect our shores, but there is no reason we cannot send a force down to aid Corsetto. We can offer to help, and protect their foreign aid group. This will get our people with boots on the ground in Parth and give us a chance to see the situation first hand. If the situation changes down south then we have the ability to make a difference. All in favor say I. It was not unanimous, but a serious majority raised their voice. Then we must move forward said Maverick, reach out to our friends in Winst, Agoslia and Malaguenia and inform them of the probability of our ships coming to join theirs down south. Reach out to Corsetto and inform them of our desire to aid them. Admiral, are you prepared to lead out Navy? Yes sir, replied Bernard. Then it is done. As they all left the room Brenna passed by Maverick and touched his arm. “Sir, I respect your decision, I just pray it is the right one for our newborn nation”. I wouldn’t have made the decision if I didn’t believe that to be true. He then caught the eye of Monica from across the room. If this goes well, that girl deserves a promotion he said. Monica just chuckled and walked out. Maverick left the room and headed straight to his office. He had an important letter to write.

Dear President Hakon Finnurson,

I write you today in regards of the Parthonopian Conflict. Word has reached us that your country is sending aid to the people of Parthonopia. We would like to offer our aid and services in this matter. We would like to help secure safe passage for CHAO across the sea as well as transportation and protection of refugees and CHAO personnel upon arrival. We do not have a strong army, but would be willing to offer the services of 500 soldiers, their equipment and supplies in protection of your personnel on the ground. We would also like to offer the services of the following:

1 Aircraft Carrier, including 20 fixed wing aircraft
1 Joint Support Ship, including 6 Helicopters
1 Landing Ship
8 Destroyers , including 16 Helicopters
6 Frigates , including 6 Helicopters
4 Subs

Admiral Bernard Legrand will be the Commanding officer of all Caer aMuirehen forces.

I look forward to hearing from you soon,

To a greater tomorrow

President, Commander & Chief of Caer aMuirehen
Maverick Stark

by **Parthonopia** » Tue Feb 14, 2017 7:05 pm

Kastigra wrote:“Of course military aid can’t be ruled out.” Janin interjected.

Suzoa cringed, racking her brain on the inside, glancing at Janin with fierce eyes of wrath.

Castello d'Cormor, Ancona
December 29th, 2016
1102 local time

Friuli led the procession into the Castello, at each entrance two Ancona Guardsmen in parade dress two open the doors. Di Pietro had assumed his pace alongside that of Janin. After the comments from the Ambassador Suzoa, he had formed a connection with the foreign Commander, recognizing both of their roles in this meeting. The idea of a single Parthonopian Army was a progressive, and new topic; Cecilio who found himself now as the head commander of a third that army was keen to gain insight to further his skills through whatever means.

As Janin seemed to compliment every stone, statue, portrait, drape and book in the halls the four envoys walked through, Di Pietro accepted each compliment in return giving a facet of Parthonopian culture or history to go along with it. Friuli was smiling at the front, out of flattery and from embarrassment.

"Grand Captain, I am sure our friends from the Shogunate did not come for a history lesson," Friuli slowed his pace, the group approaching the door into the smaller of several dining rooms in the Castello. This room, a smaller table capable of accommodating eight at the center, was appropriated for events of this nature. Although the rooms intended use has not seen the presence of a foreign dignitary in over one hundred and fifty years.

Friuli slowed down, although not completely stopped walked, to listen keenly as Suzoa interjected, “Yes, Parthonopia’s recent history in the last one-hundred years has ben a story of civil war and strife, seemingly perpetuated by foreign powers. It’s no wonder the Commonwealth was formed so abruptly in revolution, the Oliviera Coalition claims to want stability but has lacked to enforce or build such stability. From what I see, the infrastructure is lacking, to no fault of the Parthonopian people, and the country is in a state of confusion or rather, loss. It seems rather self-serving of the Winst sect. We’re here because we believe in your independence, and wish no more suffering for your people. With the appropriate cooperation, I believe Parthonopia can be great again. Of course, the type of cooperation Kastriga is willing to offer is one of stable diplomacy.”

The Field Marshal, now standing still, began to open his mouth to speak, trying to calculate the perfect phrasing, before the Commander Janin voiced, "“Of course military aid can’t be ruled out.”

The Grand Captain could help but let his face visibly get brighter, Friuli on the other hand remained un telling as he looked back at Suzoa. With a twitch, she had turned to Janin and the heat from her gaze could briefly be felt by all three men present. Quickly changing the topic, Friuli opened the door to the room, "Ma'am you are preaching to the choir. Please come an take a seat so that we may discuss in depth what we intend to do about this information."

The four representatives filed into the room and sat down, the Grand Captain was remarkable quieter than he been previously out side or in the halls. Waiting for his guests to seat first, Friuli too took a seat at the table, across from the Ambassador Suzoa. Friuli began to speak.

"I want to make it plainly obvious the facts of the matter. This position was not handed to me on a silver spoon, this is the accumulation of years of intensive labor and the strong will of a people long oppressed. I know full well of the plight of the Parthonopians, I have been raised in it. I also am aware of the Wintonian aggressions, support from the Oliviera Coalition, that have been a key driving factor in the trying times these people have faced for a century. With that said, flattery is not the way to my heart, ma'am, however graciously accepted," Friuli smiled at Suzoa, "what is revered in the culture of this nation is honesty and, frankly, being blunt. Making your intentions clearly known to those you would consider a friend. There are pressing times ahead for this region, if not the entirety of Adia. I am willing to work with you however possible, obviously within reason, but my question for you, Ambassador, is what does the Shogunate intend to to do?"

Malaguenia wrote:"In response to the unification we are going to respond by assisting the Winstonian Navy with the blockade and place a embargo to further weaken Parthonopian forces to ensure the unification does not succeed. Military action will be taken when deemed necessary"

Piazza Camila, Camillania
March of Istria
Jan 8th, 2017
2117 local time

It had been only twelve days since the Convention on the Cormor had last met, only being the conclusion of its first every assembly. In that time total chaos had seemed to rip through the lands that were supposedly unified during that convention. The man who during those proceedings had found himself elected the Convention Master was huddled in his office, surrounded by several dignitaries of neighboring states. Several Senators from the Republic of Foscari, the Marquis de Omo Jorge Almeida, and the Commander of the Castello Villatrone, Giuseppe Gonzo, shared several things in common that day. Firstly they were among the numerous Conveners that had opted not to attend the emergency session called by the 'Prime Minister', Friuli.

What these men also shared was a feeling of dissent and anger towards the newly established federal government in Ancona. Those gathered, engaged in heated discussions and fierce rhetoric, represented several states, hauntingly familiar to the list of states that had been apart of the Cisparranian Coalition some hundred years ago. The main attendee missing to form near the full might of the once standing alliance was a representative from the eponym, the Cisparranian Republic. For the past day they had been, almost entirely, limited to the office chamber of the Istrian Count and his dining room.

The bags under Antonio Camillanis's eyes grew darker, albeit early evening. What they had been discussing was draining, emotionally and mentally, and the weight of the task ahead seem to fall upon his shoulders. These men were among those who had fought so passionately to elect him their leader in the nation's de facto parliament, despite not being in the halls of the convention at the moment it was still clear who they generally believed best suited to be the face of their movement.

Antonia was young and relatively charming, the population of his March very fond of his rule. He believed, in his mind, to a strong leader and fervent patriot as well, although he was quite reluctant to agree with unification in the first place. He chalked those feelings up to a lack of belief and trust in the figurehead king, Prince Carlo, and the man who truly wielded the authority, Friuli. After much deliberation the mutinous assembly had conjured a seemingly foolproof plan. They sat throughout the study, confident while taking some much deserved relaxation as they waited for the Count to conclude his important letter.

To: President Adrián Montero
From: Count Antonio Camillanis of the March of Istria
Subject: Relief

Dear Sir,

Having read word of your great speech to your people regarding the turmoil in my home land, I contact you now with the sincere belief that you truly have the interests liberty and tranquility for all at heart. By now it is appallingly apparent that the same cannot be said about the man who drives these lands into chaos further and further with each passing day. The man whom I speak about, of course, is the purported Prime Minister Friuli and the King he has installed to draw attention away from his power hungry moves. I implore you, please use your best judgement when determining the answer to what I am about to ask of you.

I have gathered the rightful, respective leaders of several local provinces and together we have formed a coalition, only a secret at this moment. Together we have an army, however truly feeble and lacking the training, equipment, and size of that of the marauders who are encamped illegally on the outskirts of the razed Avelino. If we announce our opposition we will be face to face with Bart the Butcher and his wolves within weeks. I do not wish to see the damage done to the once free city run rampant in my home. These matters concern you for your nation and the March of Istria share a long, pleasant connection with each other. In this time of peril and hardship I beg that you may send aid to this effort in whatever means possible. To be more precise what I ask of you and your great nation is the forces in your castle outside of my city stand with our army. Furthermore, it would truly be beneficial to the Republic to take a larger, more active, stance in this spreading conflict:

A Malaguenian Army would be welcomed with open arms by my people. That may potentially be the only way that ending this bloodshed may be possible. The Parthonopian people need your assistance, we are at a point where donations and refugee camps will not be enough. The might, if not it in its entirety, of the Malaguenian Army is requested to enter the March of Istria and take command of the fifteen thousand soldiers ready to fight for this cause. You're selflessness will surely be noted and if you elect to invade, upon our victory you will be handsomely rewarded.

I hope you may find it in you heart to make the right decision here before it is too late. Thank you truly and God bless.

Sincerely,
Antonio Luis Camillanis
Count of Istria

by **Caer aMuirehen** » Wed Feb 15, 2017 6:35 pm

Galva Coast, Capital Island
Jan 7th, 2017
2345 local time

Maverick was sitting at his desk in the capital building with a glass of Galva Coast Stout in his hand. When he thought about the stout in his hand he laughed. Before he had become president he had loved IPA’s but the bitterness was too much for him to handle now. He needed the dark, rich, thick flavor that stout provided. His wife, Sura, had brought him the glass a while ago as she often did when he stayed in his office late. This night had been different though. When she had walked in the door he had greeted her with a smile, but the stress was evident on his face. She handed him the beer and pulled up a chair next to his and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” she had asked. He didn’t know he had wanted to talk, but the words just spilled out of his mouth.

“What am I doing? Am truly sending a fleet down south to crush Parth’s attempt at independence? Our history is similar in many ways. Mainland nations kept us under their thumb for hundreds of years, they used our resources and our people for their betterment and left us in ruins. We got lucky, if you can even use that word, in the 1760’s and 70’s. Tsunamis and pirates finish the collapse of our island and the powers left us alone giving us our independence when we were no longer useful to them. But what if that hadn’t happened, would we still be under their thumb, would we have fought for our independence as well? Who I am to tell another nation they cannot have their freedom? How can I tell an ambitious man he is wrong for wanting to unite his country when my own ambitions have united multiple nations under one banner? Should we not be fighting for freedom and not crushing it? When I try and put myself in Friuli’s shoes, I wonder if I would have done it differently, or would I have gone about it the same way? If we join Winst and Agoslia are we not punishing the people of Parth who ultimately want out from under foreign rule? Are we becoming the bullies that once brought our pride nation to ruin?”

Maverick dropped his head into his hands, a headache permeating through his temples. He felt his wife's hand on his back, and she leaned her head against his shoulder again. “Do what you feel is right, it has led you to this point. Our nation and the people of other nations have rallied behind you because of your heart and your mind. As a citizen of Caer I would push you to avoid war with our friends to the west, but that doesn’t mean you have to crush Parth’s hopes at freedom as well. We may be able to keep our friends and give Parth their freedom. If anyone can figure it out, you can”. For a few moments they just sat there with not another word said. Then Sura stood up, kissed his forehead, and walked toward the door. As she left she turned back and smiled at him, “You will do the right thing, you always do”.

He turned his chair towards the window and looked at the moonlit town of Galva Coast. Maybe Sura was right, could he help Parth attain their freedom and still keep their friends and allies across the globe?

*****************************

Galva Coast, Capital Island
Jan 8th, 2017
725 local time

It was early the next morning, Maverick had only slept a few hours last night. He headed down the hall to the conference room where he knew he would have to be at his best. He had sent a letter last night to his cabinet and other key members of his plan. He had gotten a line down to Admiral LeGrand to assess the situation in Parth. He had decided that the next step would be to try and meet Field Marshal Ignazio Victor Friuli. Maverick knew it would not be a popular decision, but it was one he had to make. An encrypted email was sent to everyone in this morning’s meeting. He explained the decision he had made and why he had made it, he spoke about freedom and justice and opportunity. As he walked through the hall, he expected an uproar upon entering the room, these were the people he trusted the most, and they knew they could speak openly and honestly to him. He saw the door straight in front of him, his heart racing, this was a defining moment for him and he knew it.

As he opened the door the room got deathly quiet. Every eye in the room was fixed on him, he took his seat at the end of the table took and deep breath and began to talk. “This is not an attempt to start a war against our allies, this is an attempt to bring the death of innocent people to an end, stop the world war before it escalated any further, and an attempt to help Parth gain their freedom as we have. Every person in this room is free, we are not ruled by any other nations. The people of Parth can not say the same, they have been ruled and told what to do by foreign powers for over one hundred years. Would the people in this room not fight for freedom if placed in their shoes? I respect every single one of you, and I believe that if you look in the mirror and take an honest look at the situation you will see things my way. We cannot assist in the crushing of a nation's independence, we must do everything in our power to bring global freedom to all nations who desire it. Admiral Legrand has guaranteed my safe passage into and out of Parth. However, I have been waiting until after this meeting to send the letter to Field General Friuli.”

When he was finished the room stayed silent for a few moment. As he looked around the room every person met his gaze. Brenna was the first to speak up, “We can not got to war against Winst and Agoslia, we could never win. But, if we could be a part of a peaceful end to the situation…. But I still don’t like this Friuli guy. Military dictatorships don’t tend to end well.” Ragnar jumped in next “Let us not forget that Friuli attacked his own city to remove Agoslia. Granted, Agoslia is a foreign country ruling in Parth, they bombed the entire city and offered zero aid to help the people get out of the city. We don’t even know how many innocents have died.” Maverick cut him off “And how many more innocents will die if we let Winst, Agoslia and others blockade the ports and continue fighting in the streets? If we can get a peaceful end to this situation, and convince Friuli to hold free elections. Maybe we could get Winst and their allies to back off and let them have their freedom. I realize it is a long shot, but we have to try. Who are we if we don’t fight for freedom? Who are we?” His final comments had all but ended the conversation. There were details to attend to and more convincing to be done. After 45 minutes, Maverick rose from his seat. All in favor of me going down to Parth, and talking to Friuli with the goal of gaining Parth freedom, raise your hand. Every hand in the room went up. As Maverick walked back to his office, he knew that hew would now walk on thin ice. One wrong move could send his neighbors into a furry. He was going to meet with a Military Dictatorship in hopes of helping him gain his country's freedom. This would not be an easy task, but someone had to do it.

*****************************

Galva Coast, Capital Island
Jan 8th, 2017
900 local time

Dear Field General Ignazio Victor Friuli,

I write you today with thoughts of freedom and peace weighing heavy on my mind. As you may already know, a large fleet of Caer aMuirehen navy vessels is in the sea around your nation. Let it be known that at this stage we are neutral, we are not currently aiding either side in this war. We have moved our fleet into the local sea to offer aid to Corsetto's CHAO, who are helping the people of your war torn country.

As a nation, we have had a history of foreign powers taking advantage of our people and our resources, leaving us in ruin and despair. We can see that foreign powers have done the same for the country you love. We do not want to see a country wither away under foreign rule. In Caer aMuirehen we are free, we have dreams of seeing the citizens of Parthonopia free as well. Free from the rule of foreign nations and free in their own country.

I would personally like to come down to Parthonopia and meet you in person. I believe we have much to discuss. This letter is neither an offering for allegiance, nor a showing of support. This proposition is a chance for two ambitious men, who dream of freedom to share words towards a better tomorrow for the people of Parthonopia.

I look forward to hearing from you soon,

To a greater tomorrow

President, Commander & Chief of Caer aMuirehen,
Maverick Stark

by **Parthonopia** » Sun Feb 19, 2017 11:51 am

Caer aMuirehen wrote:I would personally like to come down to Parthonopia and meet you in person. I believe we have much to discuss. This letter is neither an offering for allegiance, nor a showing of support. This proposition is a chance for two ambitious men, who dream of freedom to share words towards a better tomorrow for the people of Parthonopia.

FROM THE DESK OF THE PRIME MINISTER

Encryption:HIGH
To: President, Commander & Chief of Caer aMuirehen, Maverick Stark
Subject: Dissolution of the Treaty of Oliviera

Dear President Maverick Stark,

I must first say that I am very gracious for your concern as a world leader for the plight of the Parthonopian people. The recent presence of your sizable naval force outside our shores has not gone unnoticed, however, and I must be straightforward in addressing you by saying that I am uneasy inviting you into my home. This does not change for even a second the fact that I do intend to meet and discuss with you, at your earliest convenience, the situation that broadens here daily. Do not take my uneasiness as a sign of aggression or hostility; I was born and raised here in the capital of Ancona and have seen first hand the repercussion of the inequitable and seemingly arbitrary restrictions binding the people of these lands. What my apprehensiveness stems from is the historical repetition of foreign war fleets arriving, toting the latest big guns, asking for an audience with the leaders of Parthonopia. As I am sure you are aware, subsequently after those meetings the legislature drawn there, the Treaty of Oliviera, would set the path of the past century.

Furthermore I must also stress that any apprehension is not out of fear. Parthonopians are a proud people, stubborn at worst; there is a united front here, this movement backed by the working poor to the highest ranking noblemen still seated. We will not yield to demands of foreign powers and we will remain steadfast against further objectification our race and our lands by foreign tyrants guised as liberators. If what you intend to accomplish by visiting with my is to persuade me to abandon this nation and my peoples right to self governance then I advise you to stay in Galva. If you truly wish to travel here and discuss meaningful proposals and an intelligent course of action, I will welcome you with open arms.

I do anticipate meeting you, however, and I am keen to observe whether or not you are as fervent a supporter of liberty as you say. Parthonopia is in need of freedom, desperately. It is this desperateness that the world is seeing on their news and confusing and construing as violent acts of horror and anarchy; there is not chaos on the streets here only a overall feeling of the same apprehension due to the massing collection of foreign armies that have come to take away our recently found freedom. You will be welcomed into Ancona and treated with the highest level of respect through the duration of your visit regardless of your allegiance falls. I only pray that you do remain neutral if we can not see eye-to-eye.

Once again I thank you for your interest in meeting with me.

Yours Truly,

The Right Honorable Ignazio Victor Friuli
Prime Minister of the Commonwealth
Field Marshal of the Parthonopian Legion

by **Caer aMuirehen** » Sun Feb 26, 2017 10:51 am

The roar of the chopped had been deafening, Maverick could hardly think on the trip out to sea. He was relieved to see the ships out in front of them now, although they were little more than dots on the horizon. He had been in the chopper for a good part of the morning, they hoped to land in Parth by early afternoon, and this was the penultimate stop. As they reached their landing destination on the Sea King, he could see Admiral Legrand standing just off the end of the pad. The remainder of the squad that had travelled with Maverick continued on to land on the Seawolf, the carrier, as the Sea King was a much smaller vessel and only had room for one chopper to land at a time. This was the Command Ship, home to Admiral Legrand and his staff while the fleet was out to sea.

“Good Morning Mister President” the Admiral all but yelled over the sound of the chopper in the background. “Morning Admiral” Maverick shouted back. As they moved inside, Maverick could see the map, documents and pieces laid out across the table.

Here is where we are, the Admiral started, pointing at all the little ships on the map, and here is Ancona. As you can see there is nothing but water from here to there. We have solidified our plan with Winst’s Commander of the blockade, so it should be smooth sailing in and out. Your chopper will leave here, then meet up with a chopper squadron from the Seawolf in protected air space. The squadron will get you through the blockade and into the bay by Ancona. As you approach land, the majority of the squadron will back off and return to the ships. Your chopper along with two others will continue on and land in a field outside the city. We will have armed guards with you the entire time, but a majority of the group coming with you will have to stay in the field by the choppers until your return. Once you land, you and your guards will be met by a group from Parthonopia and taken to the Castello d'Cormor to meet Field Marshal Ignazio Victor Friuli.

Bernard, how do you feel about the plan? Maverick asked. Honestly sir, began the Admiral, I wish I could send you with more. How much can we trust Friuli? We also just got word of a possible rebel outbreak in the east as well. War could erupt at anytime, with only a small group of soldiers and three choppers to protect you, and the choppers will be away from you while you are in the city.

It will be fine, Maverick was nervous but he could not let it show to the Admiral. We will be landing a few hundred other troops on the shore soon with Corsetto to aid the people of Parth. If something erupts there is more than enough boots on the ground to get me to safety. Plus, these are our best soldiers protecting me. Each one of them has been hand selected for this mission. Friuli is a passionate man, but killing a national leader is not in his best interest. He is not an animal, but a man, and one who wants to unite his nation and legitimize it to the rest of the world. The plan is in place, it will all work out.

The Admiral nodded, the two men shook hands and made their way back out to the chopper. One last handshake and Maverick was stepping back up into the chopper and headed off. As they met with the squadron, Maverick put his mind to the task. Every word would count in the meetings ahead. The world appears to be on the brink of war with Parth at the core. This was his chance to make sure that whatever happened, Caer aMuirehen would no longer watch from the sidelines, this was his chance to make sure history remembers him and the nation he loves so dearly. The grumble in his stomach brought him out of thought, “dammit, I forgot to eat on the Sea King”.

by **Parthonopia** » Mon Feb 27, 2017 9:02 pm

Agoslia wrote:"There is only one god, and His name is Death. And there is only one thing we say to Death: 'not today'."

Streets of Avelino
29th of December, 2016
0732 local time

A black cloud of smoke blanketed the countryside, billowing from the roaring fires that spread through the desolate city. It was a bleak scene looking over the Parranian River upon the carnage of a formerly majestic city only several hours prior. The utter destruction seemed to only span several blocks into the city; entire streets of buildings laid in pieces on the roads below, crushing anything that was in it path during its descent. The fires spread from rooftop to rooftop scorching the rows housing and shops, menacingly pushing deeper and deeper to the center of the island. Civilian casualties did not seem too significant as most buildings appeared to be vacant aside from the droves of stray cats that would regularly wonder the streams and alleys of Avelino. The stench in the air was overwhelming, the culmination of burning flesh, dust, and torched construction material was nauseating. The frantic, terrified screams of the injured and the straggling unevacuated civilians watching their homes crumbled down before echoed across the field, standing out over the deafening ring of artillery fire.

Grand Captain Bartolomeo Ongaro stood, arms crossed behind his back, with his chest puffed out. Smiling grimly he raised his and took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose as if he was whiffing a fresh baked pie. With a clap of his hands Ongaro turned to Vincenzo Fiorino who stood next to him, binoculars in hand, watching the skirmish taking place at mouth of the eastern most bridge. Artillery trumpeted close behind them and all along the coast, nestled into the natural contours of the land and utilizing the cover of the abandoned suburbs. The barrage was consistent and systematic, targets ever inching deeper into the city. The crews were alternating the type of ordinance being sent down range between smoke and the charged ammunition that had already laid waste to several blocks opposite their side of the river.

"Fiorino! Let me a smoke will you?" Fiorino who had been intently peeking through his binoculars let them hang from the string around his neck as he quickly retrieved his cigarettes from his pocket. Ongaro plucked the smoked from him and, motioning for a light, said, "See anything good?"

Fiorino, lighting a smoke for himself, replied, "It seems the fog, sir, our armor is engaging their IFVs and appears to be winning," putting the binoculars back up to his eyes he peered across the river, "The infantry is past the fog line, but their numbers appear strong. What is our plan from here, sir?"

"The western flank is secure for now, have them halt their advance and fortify their position. As the eastern front wins over the enemy front companies they will do the same. We need to put some more fear into Batista, our cannons will do for that mission. Our advance stops here until the twilight of dusk. Until then no block, no building, no street, monument, or land mark is sacred on that side of the Parranian. In the mean time, give first call to the eastern regiments to fortify our side and advance send a company across for support. We will form the center here and advance when the sun sets. Avelino shouldn't hold on much longer after that."

Ongaro took a long drag off the cigarette he had been burning and flicked it away with one motion, having only taking several puffs. The sun was up but the skies were deathly gray, with not a cloud in sight save for those of smoke. Shortly there after the echoes of commands traveled down the lines and like clockwork the men, guided by their officers, marched briskly to their new positions. A single company, roughly one thousand men at arms, crossed the westernmost bridge in rank and file. Boots marched in time, synchronized with the pace of the cadences the non commissioned officers bellowed. The rabble that consisted the force did not dare to look any direction but forward. If the year of drilling and marching prior to the battle they were in the midst of fighting they had learned at the very least discipline.

Skirmish lines on the west maintained the distance the first company had gained while the surviving regiments withdrew to consolidate closer to the bridge. Of the first advancing tanks on this front all but three were either completely destroyed or rendered useless, the three remaining were consolidated at the center of the skirmish line. Where the forward line end three hundred yards ahead the artillery assault started, the infantry used this reprieve to reload and treat their wounded, among other things. The western bridge was seemingly well won over and the Agoslian coalition force was pushed back to that end.

The easternmost bridge however was well away from a victory, the fighting only just having begun. The company having crossed that bridge was met with what was at first a mild resistance but as the range was closed and the defenders regained their awareness the small arms fire seem unrelenting, on both ends. The enemy IFVs and Parthonopian P - 40s were clashing in the street as infantry swarmed around them. The Legion company divided into regiments and were fanning out through the streets and alleys, the strong center engaging the defenders firing upon them and those whom the IFVs had delivered. The armor dispatched the Agoslian IFVs that had not withdrawn rather quickly and with minor damage on their own part. The gun crews turned their attention to any visible enemy infantry, while the smoothbore turret targeted buildings, better described as piles of brick and concrete now.

The men had a strong resolve despite the deafening sounds of war, the god awful stench that permeated through the air, or the hot lead flying towards them, some taking friends others missing entirely. The men, although equal in numbers and a poorer standard of equipment, felt themselves to be a superior force in size, experience, and strength. What they did have in abundance was the ferocity of all of the pent up rage and psychotic behavior the band of rapists and murderers in blue had. The men had been awaiting this day just as much as their general had and the fear and timidness that should have been expected only showed in smaller groups and not as widespread; the drilling had its job and all these men did now was eat, drink, and kill.

by **Parthonopia** » Sat Mar 04, 2017 7:41 pm

Caer aMuirehen wrote:Every word would count in the meetings ahead. The world appears to be on the brink of war with Parth at the core. This was his chance to make sure that whatever happened, Caer aMuirehen would no longer watch from the sidelines, this was his chance to make sure history remembers him and the nation he loves so dearly.

Outside of Ancona
9th of January, 2017
1420 local time

The skies were clear and the sun was shining bright on the plains below. There was a gentle wind rolling through, the fields of chest high grass swaying with the breeze. The setting was pristine until early in the morning of this day, just after first daylight, when work details from the Legion encamped in and around the city came onto the scene. This was a truly momentous day for not only Parthonopia but all of the Adian continent; this was the first time in over a century a foreign head of state would set foot on Parthonopian soil or breathe fresh Parthonopian air. The meeting, although widely kept confidential and unknown to the general public, had stirred quite a bit of excitement among the ranks. The anxiousness could be felt all the way up to the top even, ever so slightly, in the Field Marshal Friuli. Friuli found himself, once again, patiently waiting for the arrival of a skeptical audience; the bristles of his mustache motioned with the direction of the wind that had picked up ever so slightly. The temperature was dropping after the heat of the day at noon, the winds adding to that feeling and reminding all present that it was in fact winter, albeit that of the mild Parthonopian variety.

There was a buzz about the thousand some odd labor contingent of Legionnaires that were bivouacked in the field; the morning prior they had received their marching orders and embarked to the plain. Over the course of the morning the men had hastily erected a band stand and from there made sure to be well trimmed and groomed before being inspected with a fine tooth comb. As the deadline of the estimated arrival of the President of Caer steadily approached the troops had been called into rank, forming two parallel columns of two ranks each facing each other. A street down the center was formed by the troops, a caravan of four vehicles in a row parked there. Today Friuli stood alone, no one to sides; his most trusted companions were all on their own quests fulfilling their own destinies in the new found nation.

At long last the chopping hum of the helicopter convoy could be heard, visible only barely in the distance coming in from the direction of the sun. As the sound of the choppers grew louder the men in the ranks grew quieter until the command to be brought to attention and they were completely silenced. The troop band, seated on the stands, had ceased rehearsing and was readied for the entrance of the honored guest. Friuli stood straight up, arms crossed behind his back looking firmly into the sky. The chopper was just above them at this point, the grass violently moving in all directions from the gusts of the spinning blades. "SHOULDER ARMS" could be heard shouted down the lines as the entire company completed the order swiftly and synchronized. Friuli could not help but smile before the door to the helicopter flew open and out came the President Maverick Stark.

The band, as prompted, swiftly began playing the nation's anthem, La Marcia Reale, as Friuli walked forward to meet Maverick, right hand outstretched. Their hands reached, a firm shake ensuing, Friuli sternly looking into Maverick's eyes, "Benvenuto! It is a pleasure to have you here in Parthonopia."

Maverick gave a forced laugh before releasing and bringing his hand back to his side, "It is my pleasure to be here, sir. You are the Field Marshal Friuli, am I correct?"

With a slight bow of his head, "Yes, sir, indeed. However my political title would be Prime Minister and you may call me Ignazio." The band was still trumpeting along, having moved onto the anthem of Caer aMuirehen before another patriotic Parthonopian piece. Friuli motioned to the convoy and the two men continued towards it, entering the back seat of the third car in the line. Sliding into the seats of the car, the doors being closed behind them by two silent, stern faced soldiers, Friuli turned to the President who seems the slightest bit nervous, glancing over his shoulder at the security detail standing attentively back at the chopper.

Maverick turned back to look Friuli in the face, "Well, Ignazio, if you would not mind indulging me with some knowledge of your country and countrymen, it would be much appreciated. I must say that I am quite fascinated with this nation, yourself, and the predicament that this nation is currently in. These topics are quite tough to advert your attention from."

Friuli took a second to take in the sentence, nodding he tried to quickly formulate his own, "Well Maverick, if it is alright I address you like that, clearly the development of this crisis is entertaining enough for the prestigious President of Caer aMuirehen to travel all the way here. What I can tell you is that, much like your people, the Parthonopians yearn to be free for self governance. This experiment that you have caught us right in the midst of is a unified peoples attempt to gain those things. I have lived all of my life here in the Principality we are in now, Ancona. Culture is rich here, despite the depravity we have been forced to succumb. The sea to south provides fresh fish and other delicacies that sustain the coastal provinces. The seemingly perfect climate affords the farmers to produce year round, rotating through seasonal produce. Our northern provinces are rich and fertile in the land, a bounty that has not been fully tapped into with the lack of a unified nation."

Looking out his window for a moment Friuli turned back to Maverick, "The Parthonopians are proud people. We are also accredited to be very stubborn people, as well as blunt."

"Well then let me be blunt, you wish to gain this freedom, self governance, autonomy, and so on; how do you expect to achieve these goals? What does your nation need to achieve these goals?"

Friuli gave a subtle chuckle, easily mistaken as a hiccup, "We are in the process right this moment of achieving these goals. The leading cause as to the lack of freedom in these lands is due to foreign repression. Wintonian warships do not blockade my ports because Parthonopians have committed such egregious atrocities against them or their allies but because they fear that their power over these people has been taken. This is a true fear for them, how else can they exploit the market and workers if there is a government, with an army to support, preventing this?"

Maverick shook his head once and hesitated for an instant before choosing to go for the statement anyway, "I do not wish to offend you, but if freeing your people from foreign oppressors is the ultimate goal, how do you defend the sacking and destruction of your own city?"

Friuli's expression turned a tad more stern with this comment, "Well I do not wish to offend you, Maverick, but clearly you are not a soldier. What transpired at Avelino, while yes it is truly a sin and disheartening to all, it is entirely understandable and not a move that I condemn. War is brutal, sir. It is nasty, and unbecoming, bad things happen to good people and damage is wreaked. These are the side affects of war, and that is what my people face now. The foreign leaders of the world may not agree or blatantly state that they are at war with us but they will fight tooth and nail to prevent Parthonopia from being its own nation. Make no mistake, I do deeply regret the loss of life, for all involved, at the Battle of Avelino; it is truly a sad day for Parthonopian history. The blame for the carnage, however, can be placed in the hands of the Agoslians who prompted the fight and the Avelino population that armed against my army only seeking to pass over the Parranian River."

Maverick accepted the answer and the two men sat in a momentary silence before the car slowed to a stop. The convoy was parked in front of the Castello d'Cormor, another parade dressed company of infantry there to greet them. Friuli smiled and said, "Well, Maverick, we have reached our destination. Please, let us go there is a light meal awaiting us where we will be accompanied by the Princess Eliza. From there we may discuss the matters at hand."

Both men nodded and began their short journey up the steps and down the path into the building, house staff taking both of their coats and escorting them to one of the smaller dining rooms. Inside was a table with several platters of appetizers laid out on it; a multitude of meats and cheeses, fresh olives, roasted peppers, sardines, and a litany of other Parthonopian cultural snacking treats. Already seated at the table was the Princess Eliza Amalia of Massa, Prince Carlo della Ancona's second, and current, wife. Her eyes lit up as Friuli and Stark entered the room and she quickly stood up from her seat to greet them.

Friuli bowed his head as she approached him, "Princepessa, how wonderful to see you," she gave him her hand which he planted a kiss on the back of. Blushing she took back her hand and then turned her attention to the foreign President.

"Benvenuto, President Stark, I pray that Ignazio has not been too ill tempered with you and has been at least a reasonable host thus far."

All three laughed, Eliza the hardest, before she motioned to all of the food and suggested that they all treat themselves for a moment before Friuli and Stark got down to business. For the next half an hour the three sat and chatted, small talk mainly, while enjoying a variety of bite sized foods. They talked about Parthonopian history, the current state of infrastructure, the education system, hopes and dreams, and whatever else the Princess wished to ramble about, her vocal chords being very loose after several glasses of wine while she had waited for the two of them. As her speech began to become a bit more impaired Friuli started to move it along and suggested that Maverick and himself continued on and had the meeting that Maverick had traveled so far to do.

The two men stood, the Princess still seated. Friuli placing his hands on Eliza's shoulders, rubbing them he said, "Unfortunately, I think it is time that the lovely Princess leaves us to our business." Eliza let her head fall over to rest on Friuli's right hand as she let out a sigh of relief, Friuli bent over and gave her a peck on the cheek, "Come now, sweetheart, though I wish I could spend all of my time in your company this is very pressing."

Eliza, understanding, stood and bid farewell to Maverick first before turning to Friuli, giving a curtsy, and leaning in to kiss him on his cheek. As she turned to leave Maverick chimed in, "Ah, so shall I meet the King, Prince Carlo, now?"

Eliza turned instantly pale and her cheerfulness that had been present the whole time quickly vanished, silent she just stood there before Friuli spoke up, "No, sir, Prince Carlo has very pressing matters to attend to and has delegated me to take full command of this mission, I speak not only for him directly but for the people of Parthonopia."

The two men sat back down after Eliza had left the room, the table being cleared around them. Once the last housekeeper had exited the room, the leaders began their discussion, diving deeper into the topics of Risorgimento, including the Battle of Avelino, the Wintonian blockade, and the worlds fear of a military dictatorship in Parthonopia. After another half an hour of rhetoric the discussion had truly gone no where as far as plans of action for the future, purely a summation of what has already occurred.

Friuli, perhaps a bit more frankly than he intended, "Well, President Stark, what is it truly you wish to discuss then? You have my audience, as I yours, surely there is a more beneficial way this meeting could go then the, let us face it, gabbing that we have been doing so far."

Maverick sat back in his chair, he sensed a hint of aggression in the way Friuli had spoken to him. He straighten up his tie, pulling the knot up higher on his neck, and leaned in before giving an even more aggressive speech back.

"I am not here today to discuss winning and losing a war. I am here to discuss the freedom of the citizens of Parthonopia, not just from foreign powers, but also from the oppression of their government.To achieve freedom for your people it will take more than guns. You can not win their freedom by burning down your own cities. It will take delicate diplomacy and finding common ground with those who would see you fail. Don’t be mistaken, as we speak, your enemies gather at your door. You are smart men, you know you can not win against the might of Greater Olympus. Continuing a war will not gain your citizens freedom, it will find you falling and your people again under the heel of foreign powers. You do not want that, and neither do we.

"Caer aMuirehen can not and will not offer military support to you. We do not possess the men to win against those who oppose you. I will not again force my people to bow to those outside our borders. But I would also no longer stand idly and watch the people of Parthonopia do the same. So I am here today to offer political and diplomatic support and friendship. What I have achieved for my people, I can help you achieve for yours. However, this offer of support does not come unconditionally. To see this friendship began we must ask a few things of you. First, we would see the ratification of a new constitution, signed by as many Parthonopian nobles as possible. The constitution would bring the birth of a friendly and respectable Parthonopian government. Secondly, we ask that free elections be held for the new leader of this reborn nation. Finally, we would see you host a meeting with nations from your region and across Greater Olympus. In this meeting Parthonopia can show the world their new government and prove that they seek to be a friend and not a foe to the rest of the globe. In this meeting we would seek to create a peace treaty between the nations in attendance and Parthonopia. The goal of all of these asks is to see Parthonopia free from foreign power, free from oppressive rule, and a start to rebuilding relationships with nations who fear what you currently are becoming.

"If we can agree on this path, you will find Caer aMuirehen to be a generous and supportive friend. We will support you in achieving these goals and an end to the Winst blockade. We will support you in creating the constitution and achieving the birth of your new nation. We would also import available food stuffs to see your people fed. We will import tidal energy technology and equipment. I am a written contract from the CEO of Caerian Tidal Technologies Inc. We would offer to build a new facility in Parthonopia, where tidal energy equipment can be manufactured and repaired. We would send only essential personnel to train and educate your people in an attempt to boost your energy and manufacturing sectors. We would also offer a student exchange program, send your best students to attend college in Caer aMuirehen. We would offer to assist in the building of a national university system in Parthonopia. We would be able to offer more if you require, and we have the ability to assist. We want to see the nation of Parthonopia free and thriving."

Both men were standing up at this point, Maverick who stood about six foot was looking down on Friuli, the overhead light beaming off his shaved scalp.

"We do not expect an answer today, we understand the weight of what we ask of you. Look at your people and this nation you love. Imagine where it can be without these foreign powers ruling over you. The future of your people lies in the balance, and we alone have extended a hand to support you. Think on our offer, respond in time, together we could see Parthonopia reborn."

All Friuli could help to do was put his right hand out and firmly grasp Maverick's in a shake, "Kindly sir, no. Brevity is the soul of wit and I will keep it that way; I will yield to no foreign power, our nobles and leaders already have written a constitution, our King is not absolute. Perhaps I misconstrued your sympathy of our plight for an actual wish to see Parthonopian autonimity. Clearly I was wrong. You wish for the same end that the other globalist foreign rulers wish for; a government that they can most easily circumnavigate and corrupt and extort to be in charge. Perhaps it is time we part, I will escort you out, the convoy will take you back to your chopper and back to the Sea King."

"I hope that you may change your mind before it is too late, Ignazio. Think of your nation and think of your people, that is what I leave you with."

"Thank you, I will contact you if I have a stroke and change my mind."

by **Saint Fedski** » Wed Mar 08, 2017 11:53 am

Special Report to Her Most Benevolent Majesty's Most Honourable Privy Council With Regard to Parthonopian Nationalism

Special Meeting of the Privy Council
Privy Council Chambers
Tower of Hearts, Prestwick
December 21st, 2016
9:30am (local time)

Nested high upon the Queen's Promontory towered the Tower of Hearts: symbolically and literally the heart of Lambton's government. It was here, in this small palace, that Queens and Kings historic had maintained their primary residences. It is was also here that many an important decision had been made for it housed the Chamber of the Privy Council in addition to the personal study of the Sovereign and her personal support office.

Four fireplaces with mantels of the finest marble, warmed the elegant stateroom on this cool December morning. The soothing crackle of the fire echoed during moments of silence such as this. Seated around the central table were the most powerful and influential persons in the Kingdom of Lambton, all of them personally given the honour of joining the Privy Council by the Queen herself. They were gathered in the Tower of Hearts at the behest of one Rufus Kirkwell, the Duke of Wintercrest-Nightingale and present Minister of Foreign Affairs.

The silence that had overtaken the room preceded an expected comment from the Queen following Kirkwell's opening brief. The logs crackled for what seemed an eternity until a particularly loud snap reverberated around the chamber as if to awaken the attendees from their stupor. It wasn't the Queen that spoke up, but, instead, the rather young Brooklyn Ashe; the youngest and most unlikely member of the Privy Council.

“Your highness, I beg your pardon, but we have all read these briefs,” the close confidant calmly stated. “We have, with great concern, followed the lead up to this day. There can be no question now what the intent of this movement is.”

These meetings were formally informal; all council members, the Sovereign excepted, were considered equal regardless of status, rank, vocation or title within Council Chambers. Familiar names and plain speak were encouraged while in session, yet many participants struggled with this informality out of respect and habit. It was thus, the brashness of this young woman who dared speak so pointedly rather than deferentially to the Queen that sent a collective shudder around the room.

“This movement is coercive.” Interpreting the silence as tacit approval, Ash continued confidently. “This convention has but two options: accede to the wishes of this mob or the mob will set upon the town and who knows what will happen.”

There was a soft murmur of agreement that was quickly silenced as the Queen cleared her throat with a gentle cough. It was her crutch. Some would hem or haw, others would stutter. Many start by stalling with a restatement of the problem as if saying it again would make their sentences clearer. Not her; a gentle cough was all she needed to start her vocal chords in their work.

“I have come to a conclusion,” she announced softly. “Or rather conclusions.

“Everybody in this room has been provided the exact the same information as I. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs has prepared fine reports – thank you, Rufus – and the Ministry of Defence has provided very insightful commentary on the matter. You all have had ample opportunity for input and I have taken time to consider the many options before me to arrive at these conclusions.”

She paused for a breath as her advisors curiously looked on. The members had a general idea of what the Queen's plan were, but she had surprised before.

“The Kingdom of Lambton has been a strong advocate for national sovereignty. We did not sign the Treaty of Oliviera in 1901. While we supported the efforts of our friends and allies in Agoslia; we did not agree to the partitioning, division, conquest and humiliation of the Kingdom of Parthonopia and the Parthonopian people. We opposed such measures then and we will not support them now. It is time overdue for a unified Parthonopia, agreement to that is almost unanimous amongst this group.

“At the closure of this convention, the Kingdom of Lambton wants to see Prince Carlo della Ancona and the House of Ciaia established on a Parthonopian Throne. We can only hope that this transition will be peaceful, but we cannot rule out foreign involvement.”

The silence during the Queen's pause was only broken by the soft crackling as the dancing orange flames continued around the logs in the fireplaces.

The Queen continued again. “We know Winst and Malaguenia have much to lose and we can only assume they will vociferously oppose any attempt at unification. Ventalia and Agoslia are wildcards so we will try to encourage them to back a reinstated and sovereign Monarchy with Carlo della Ancona as the head. Though we will continue to work to dissuade Winst and Malaguenia from intervening, I feel, as I'm sure we all do, that those efforts of dissuasion will be in vain.

“I feel it is prudent to impress upon you that we should not, and will not, get directly involved. This is not our fight nor are we positioned to exploit: there is nothing for us to gain here. The only boots on the ground will be to assist in the protection of Carlo upon the reestablishment of the Parthonopian Monarchy. When exactly that will happen, or what our immediate next steps are to be, will be determined in the aftermath of this upcoming convention, but we have been provided with some draft contingency plans which we are here to discuss.”

Kirkwell had started the morning off by presenting the latest factoids from the unfolding Parthonopian drama. The privy council was informed about the Convention on the Cormor, the size of Friuli's newly raised and questionably equipped army and the potential ramifications of each scenario. The Kingdom was hoping for the best – a peaceful reestablishment of the Parthonopian Monarchy, but was expecting the worst – Friuli leading a junta and significant foreign intervention as a result. Most in the room only hoped that Lambton would not be eventually dragged into this quagmire.

The Privy Council spent the better part of the morning reviewing the many options outlined in the folio. A few objections were raised and the outlined plans modified accordingly, though most members were in agreement: Lambton would not plan to intervene militarily. Instead, diplomats were to reach out to the involved parties and negotiate a peaceful return of a sovereign monarchy to a unified Parthonopia.

by **Caer aMuirehen** » Wed Mar 08, 2017 1:05 pm

It had been a handful of days since President Maverick Stark had returned from Parthonopia. In the time since he had met with Admiral Bernard Legrand and his Cabinet. But word had reached Congress of his meeting, and many were rather perturbed. He had to keep the meeting a secret to insure his safe travel, but they wanted answers and he had not given any. In truth he did not have any real answers at all. Friuli had been completely unreceptive of Maverick’s message. He was an ambitious, stubborn man that Maverick felt he could really like. But, Maverick was sure that Friuli’s desire for blood and power would cause his fall and more oppression of the citizens of Parth. Maybe he should have addressed the Field Marshall with less aggression. He knew the world would never except Friuli as a military dictator. Friuli had to adapt or die, and Maverick was convinced Friuli was choosing death. But Congress wanted answers and it was he duty to give them that. They would have questions, and he would undoubtedly have to go speak to them in the days to come. For now a letter would do….

Dear Men and Women of Congress,

As many of you already know, last week I flew down on a secret diplomatic mission to meet with Field General Ignazio Victor Friuli in Parthonopia. The situation in Parthonopia is growing more extreme each day. People are dieing as this civil war rages on, and nations across Greater Olympus are being dragged into the carnage. It was important for us to speak to these rebel leaders of peace and freedom. This mission was kept very secret to insure safe travels across the lines of battle. I greatly appreciate your understanding in these matters.

The meeting was inconclusive. The rebel leader Ignazio Friuli is not interested in peace or the friendship of Caer aMuirehen. He desires independence by military force alone. I fear that these ideals will only bring more unrest to the region. I would not see Caer aMuirehen military resources wasted on supporting or opposing this rebel leader. In matters of war, we will let those personally affected make that decision on their own.

After seeing the situation first hand, I would highly recommend we keep our naval vessels and personnel in the sea surrounding Parthonopia. The goal of this personnel will continue to be for the protection and assistance of the citizens of Parthonopia. As we speak, we have boots on the ground dealing with the displacement of large populations because of wars that rage on. The removal of these military assets will only guarantee that citizens uninvolved in the conflict continue to suffer. I pray that you can see reason in this.

At this stage, Caer aMuirehen should stay neutral in this conflict. I personally appreciate each and every one of you for your support and understanding in this matter.

Commander and Chief of Caer aMuirehen,
President Maverick Stark

by **Saint Fedski** » Wed Mar 08, 2017 10:34 pm

Parthonopia's announcement of unification came as no surprise. With a rabble one hundred thousand strong and reportedly containing the most hardened criminals known to Parthonopia whom were broken free from their cells to support this... revolution... the outcome of the Convention on the Cormor was guaranteed. The context, however, was very open ended. Would a new monarchy be established as Lambton hoped? Would Parthonopia become a republic or federation or would it succumb to the whims of a military dictatorship under Friuli? These were the questions that needed answers and, thankfully, answers were forthcoming.

Tower of Hearts, Prestwick
December 26th, 2016
6:00pm (local time)

Moments of solitude were hard to come by for Her Most Benevolent Majesty. Her presence or opinion was constantly in demand. Even while on vacation she would be continually bombarded with information and urgent requests that were really not urgent. It was moments like the present one that she truly cherished. The Tower of Hearts stood atop a high promontory providing a commanding view of the surrounding land. East and West. North and South. As far as the eye could see in all directions was an unobstructed panoramic view of the Kingdom of Lambton, her realm. In the early mornings: magnificent sun rises. In the evenings: majestic sunsets.

Every opportunity that presented itself for escape, she greedily stole. Today, the sky was the most picturesque blue; nary a cloud to be seen. She had found a few moments to doge the deluge of updates streaming out of Parthonopia that bore no news of any real consequence. Up here, above the world, she was at ease. She was at peace.

Leaning on the parapet, the Queen stretched; pushing her body far from the railing and arching her back. She let out a sigh as the tension disappeared... at least until the knock on the door.

“Your Majesty, pardon my interruption,” said Brooklyn Ashe as she emerged through the door and onto the uppermost terrace of the Tower of Hearts. Pausing to curtsy respectfully, her long golden hair waved softly in the gentle breeze as she approached the Queen who, still leaning casually, didn't bother to acknowledge the presence of her young confidant.

“We have received word from Parthonopia. The Convention on the Cormor has concluded,” informed Ashe. “Field Marshal Friuli as been announced as Prime Minister and commander-in-chief of the Parthonopian Legion. Here is a copy of a dispatch directly from Friuli.”

The young confidant handed a single sheet of paper to the Monarch. It only took a moment to read and no additional time to understand the gravity of the situation for the dispatch contained not even the most subtle hint of the monarchy or of Prince Carlo. It was clear that Parthonopia was to be governed by a military dictatorship under Field Marshal Friuli. No matter the future nomenclature, Prince Carlo would only ever be a powerless figurehead until Friuli could consolidate power and then Carlo's life would be in jeopardy.

“Well, my friend,” sighed the Queen. “I genuinely hoped it would not have worked out like this. I fear conflict is likely inevitable.”

With Friuli's announcement, a peaceful transition for Parthonopia could not be more unlikely.

Official Statement from Her Most Benevolent Majesty Queen Norberta I on the Unification of Parthonopia
Prestwick, Province of Sherwood – December 26th, 2016

On behalf of the Kingdom of Lambton, I must convey our deep concern with regard to today's announcement in Parthonopia.

The Kingdom of Lambton has long been a strong advocate for the preservation of the sovereign rights of the nation and a vocal opponent of the injustices forced indefinitely upon the former Kingdom of Parthonopia through the Treaty of Oliviera. While the Kingdom of Lambton supported the efforts of our friends and allies in the Kingdom of Agoslia, we did not agree to the conquest and subsequent partitioning and division of the Kingdom of Parthonopia. We, as a nation, opposed such measures then and we cannot support them now.

The Treaty of Oliviera was imposed to humiliate the proud people of Parthonopia. The Kingdom of Lambton continues to unequivocally reject all claims that such partitioning of a sovereign nation was necessary for enduring peace and the continued security of the greater Adradiac region. The time is overdue for the peaceful conclusion of the foreign occupation of Parthonopia.

With the hope that this transition can remain peaceful, I cannot emphasize enough the need for all involved parties to exercise restraint during these delicate times. Renewed or continued conflict serves no purpose, but to destabilize our neighbourhood, and will cause undue pain and suffering upon the civilian population in Parthonopia. So that we may continue to work with our neighbours to foster a peaceful transition for Parthonopia that ensures the region will not, once again, be plunged into chaos and anarchy, the Kingdom of Lambton calls on the signatories to the Treaty of Oliviera to agree to mutually dissolve the treaty in the interest of regional peace and prosperity.

The Kingdom of Lambton also calls for the reestablishment of the Kingdom of Parthonopia under its rightful monarch, Prince Carlo della Ancona of the House of Ciaia, and strongly condemns any attempt by any party to establish an alternative structure of governance by force of arms.

The Kingdom of Lambton is being kept informed of events in Parthonopia and will do everything possible to ensure that the safety and security of Lambtonites in that country is respected.

-- 30 --

Official Statement from the Honourable and Loyal Prime Minister Guff Brooking on the Unification of Parthonopia
Prestwick, Province of Sherwood – December 26th, 2016

by **Thrawson** » Wed Mar 08, 2017 11:11 pm

1/27/17

Pergangard, Thrawson

Llanlos Palace

In the center of Pergangard reins Llanlos Palace, home to the King of Thrawson, Maximus Pergan II. January 27th, 2017, was the last peaceful day in Thrawson. 11:07am, Prime minister Phillip Narkowski, came to deliver the newest Greater Olympus conflicts to King Maximus II. He pulled up in front of the palace gates with his Thrawson-Made automobile to proudly see Thrawsonian guards with their long red coats and guns. He walked in to the Palace to see Thrawsonian flags draped down the walls.

Narkowski walked in to King Pergan's gold encrusted bedroom to find him reading what he thought was the newest edition of "Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition".

"My king, you can't keep putting off this." Said Narkowski

Pergan put down the magazine and said "I have no idea what to do, we all know we are great supporters of Parthonopia. We are a monarchy ourselves. But if we join them, Winst and Agoslia have direct access to our nation. We'll be doomed." King Pergan said in a confused, yet sad tone. "It would just be best to join Winst, Agoslia, and Malagu, Malageenia, I can't pronounce their name."

"Sir, It's MAL-A-GUEN-IA."

"Yeah them, whatever, let's put an embargo on them and send them a letter."

"Or not, let's just write them a letter, they're a pretty good trade partner of ours."

Pergan started swearing to himself in Thrawsonian. "Fine, just, leave I'm in the middle of something."

"What if Parthonopia wins though? We could end up losing more Thrawsonian soldiers."

"Less than if we decide to fight Winst and Agoslia."

"We should help a nation we support, and not give up just because we're afraid."

"I don't care. I will not lose any more lives of my people to Winst and Agoslia. We're joining them. Send Parthonopia a letter wishing them good luck in this."

"Ok sir." Said Narkowski.

"Leve Konungariket Thrawson." Said Pergan

"Leve Konungariket Thrawson."

Narkowski left the palace to head to the capitol building where General Valko was. He wanted Valko to write to Parthonopia because clearly Pergan wouldn't do it and Narkowski is not that type of person, and Valko still uses snail mail knowadays for some reason.
Later, Narkowski enters the capitol building to have to go through the winding halls to find Valko. Eventually he found him.

"General Valko, I need you to write this letter to Parthonopia saying we'd love to help them but if we join you we'll get destroyed by Agoslia and Winst."

"O... K..." Valko said awkwardly.

"Good, Thank you General, Leve Konungariket Thrawson."

"Leve Konungariket Thrawson" said Valko.

January 27, 2017

Pergangard, Thrawson

Dear Parthonopia,

We regret to inform you that we can not assist you in this war. We would love to help you, I'd even call us friends, we both have monarchies, but if we join you in this conflict our military will crumble due to our border with Agoslia and Winst. This is goodbye and war Parthonopia, I wish you good luck. Hopefully we can make peace after this.

-General Artemis Valko of Thrawson

by **Thrawson** » Fri Mar 10, 2017 9:18 pm

2/12/17
Avleuvale, Thrawson

Avleuvale is the 2nd biggest city in Thrawson, it's along the Vesil River anyways. General Valko was sweating, his cheeks felt as hot as the sun to him. He was Gambling again. Valko put all his money on 32 black as Prime Minister Narkowski walked into the casino as Narkowski was scorching with anger at the general.

"Jesus Christ, You need to stop General" said Narkowski is what sounded to Valko like the Devil's voice.

"Come on, It's just some harmless fun."

"That's what you said last time and you were poor as sh*t for a month. Just come to the bar let's get a drink, I need to talk to you."

"Is it about my gambling problem?"

"No."

"Fine then."

Valko took back all his hextions (Thrawsonian Bank Notes) and proceeded to go to the bar side of the casino with Narkowski.

"Alright what do you want, what was Soooo important that you had to interrupt me. I was just about to double my money!" Said Valko.

"B*tch you know you would have lost! Anyways, I believe King Maximus has not really thought about the side we have joined."

"Phillip, you know if we join Parthonopia we'll eventually get attacked by the Agoslians and Wintonians."
Narkowski rolled his eyes.

"If we join Parthonopia, 1. We'll be satisfied because that’s the side we originally wanted to join, and 2. If we join Parthonopia, we might get a chance to get a little, revenge, against Agoslia..."

"Dear god, what do you have against Agoslia!"

Narkowski started crying his ocean blue eyes out like a dam just fell apart. "It's not my fault! When I was in the war in the 1980's they captured me and I was tortured!"
Narkowski's face was sitting on Valko's black jeans, getting the jeans soaked to the process.

"Dammit Phillip!" Shouted Valko, "These are new and they were 70 Hextions!"

Narkowski got up and left. "Ok, Ok, I'm not a child, got to keep my cool here".

"What cool did you have in the first place!" Valko shouted across the casino.

"God, what a baby." Valko said to himself.

Valko got up out of his bar stool to head to the bathroom, to get the tears of his pants.
Another man at the bar saw Valko's pants and started laughing like it was the first time he ever laughed.

"What, what are you laughing at?" Valko asked.
Valko didn't get it so he continued and head for the bathroom.

2/13/17
Pergangard, Thrawson

Narkowski was driving through the bustling city of Pergangard. Pergangard had giant skyscrapers and Palm trees, It was a nice coastal city and was fittingly capital of Thrawson. Narkowski eventually reached where he was trying to go, Highson Tower, home to Highson Corp., the largest company in Thrawson and it funded a water park in the Hexian Archipelago...

Narkowski stepped out of his shining red car to look up at the building. The glass windows shined in the Thrawsonian sunlight with a neon sign spelling "HIGHSON" vertically. Narkowski needed to come here to meet with King Maximus Pergan and Jack Highson, the owner of Highson Corp. He stepped into the main lobby that had a 3D cutout of Thrawson's shape and inside of it was the Thrawsonian signature Red, White, Red tricolor on it's side with the Thrawsonian coat of arms, on the left side of the flag.

Narkowski could hear his footsteps on the hardwood floor as he entered the elevator. He hit the button for the 54th floor. As he went up he could hear the surprisingly catchy elevator music. It was all that he could hear in the empty elevator except the sound of the elevator mechanics.
Evenually, he reached his designated floor to meet Mr. Highson sitting at his desk and King Pergan sitting next to him.

"Please take a seat Prime Minister." Asked Highson.

Narkowski took a seat in the leather chair next to Pergan and in front of Highson's desk.

"My King, I believe that we should ally ourselves with the Parthonopian government. It would make us more satisfied. We support them, we are a monarchy ourselves, we also were once a puppet under another nation's control." Narkowski said proudly hoping he wouldn’t upset the king.

Pergan sighed. "Fine, we will ally with Parthonopia against Winst and Agoslia."

"You made the right choice my king, our border with Winst and Agoslia could maybe be an advantage. Anyways why are we at Highson's workplace?"

"He will be deciding how we will help the Parthonopians in their fight against Winst, Agoslia, and Mala-, Malageen... I still can't pronounce that." Said Pergan. "I had us have this meeting here in case I was convinced to aid Parthonopia."

"You made the right choice my king. I will be on my way then. That was pretty fast. Leve Konungariket Thrawson."

Narkowski proceeded to exit the room in pride knowing he was able to convince the king of Thrawson to his side.

2/13/17
Dear, Parthonopia

We apologize for the inconvenience, we have changed our minds on what side of this conflict to join. We will aid you with whatever you need.

We'll always be on your side no matter what countries might try to take Thrawson. We wish all of Parthonopia good luck.

-Prime Minister of Thrawson, Phillip Narkowski

by **Essexia** » Fri Mar 10, 2017 10:55 pm

PM Issues Statement on Parthonopia Conflict
№ 16 Turnbull St. – 15 Jan 2017

Good evening,

Like many of you, I am shocked and distressed by reports of increasing violence in Parthonopia. Thousands of people have died in a conflict which continues to escalate every day. If this carnage remains unchecked, millions of people will become embroiled in a humanitarian crisis as a war destabilizes not only Aida, but the world at large. I can not, and will not, stand idly and allow that outcome to pass.

Last week, the Caer aMuirehenian President bravely traveled to Parthonopia, to covertly meet with Ignazio Friuli himself. President Stark offered peace, prosperity, and sovereignty to the Field Marshal; the only condition that free and fair elections take place, where Friuli relinquishes power, should he face defeat at the ballot box. The Field Marshal refused.

Let me be clear: Field Marshal Ignazio Friuli gained power by amassing a personal army of murderers, rapists, and thieves, and – supported by royalty of the Duchy of Ancona – strong-armed Parthonopian leaders to force their allegiance. Through his actions, this self-styled Prime Minister has abandoned any pretense that his vision of a united Parthonopia would be a free, democratic society.

As I said before, Essexia will not stand by while these atrocities and abuses take place.

In the upcoming days, my Government will introduce legislation to initiate a sanctions regime which specifically targets high-ranking officials of the Commonwealth government on Parthonopia. While I have no intention of risking Essexian lives to fight in a conflict which has not directly threatened our own. That said, we will do whatever it takes to force Field Marshal Friuli and his allies in the Duchy of Ancona to the negotiation table.

Thank you.

by **Parthonopia** » Fri Mar 10, 2017 11:10 pm

Republican Guardsmen Camp
Tivoli, Marcomer Republic
16th of January, 2017
0719 local time

It always seemed to be that the worst of winter would not come until later in the season in Parthonopia; December and the start of January had been rather mild but as the year continued on the worse of the foul weather was yet to come. Encamped on the plains outside of Tivoli the remnants of the Marcomer Republican Guardsmen and its followers were getting a taste of the wintry mix ahead as the gentle precipitation from the night before was transitioning from a slushy rain to a light misting. The camp, rather resembling a refugee base than the small military force that it was, was awake and beginning its day; the sounds of pots and pans clanging reverberated through the field as breakfast was well on its way. The little shanty town of tents and leantos lacked a serious structure akin to one of the many military encampments scattered throughout Parthonopia. Sprawled out among the trampled high grass was over three thousand men and women alike, whole families even, that had determined to settle outdoors, several miles outside of the nearest major settlement, Tivoli. At the core of the horde was the seventeen hundred Republican Guardsmen that had taken up arms after the beacons were proverbially lit following the fall of Sapri. Word of the vicious attack against the regions bastion of liberty had spread like wildfire across the rest of the province. Within three days of the coup the various separate outposts of Guardsmen abandoned their positions and began to consolidate at first within the city itself.

To call Tivoli a city is a bit of a stretch, nestled in a large cove on the coast southeast of Sapri the city is comprised of three smaller villages, roughly populated by thirty thousand each. The flatland and rather sparse forests of the region allow it so that one could see either village if they were to be atop the tallest building within each. The namesake village is the home of the waterfront and the fishing fleet that provides much of the fresh produce for the people that inhabit there. North of the harbor village along the main road towards the coast sits the financial and capital district of Tivoli, to its west the third village and the corner of its industry, several factories and warehouses being the chief infrastructure there as well as the primary employer of the people living there. Between these three villages were fields of crops and livestock farms; although not overly bountiful to the point for trade the agricultural network that connected the three villages that formed Tivoli produced enough to sustain the population and sale in the smaller markets in neighboring villages and towns.

The mass of Guardsmen and the growing camp following of their wives, children, and fellow 'dissidents' was upon first arrival greeted with open arms and openly quartered in government buildings and the homes of those especially loyal to the cause. Their welcome was quickly exhausted however as the numbers grew and the demand for food and shelter expanded with them. Times were becoming tougher, food more scarce and supplies less readily available, due to the Wintonian blockade that ominously patrolled just off of the coast. The affects of the blockade were not at first entirely visible and the sustainable nature of living for the Parthonopian people had kept them afloat thus far and expectingly well into the future. But as the nights grew colder and home heating oil in a higher demand, no suppliers left in the entire province with any to sell, the people began to get restless as more and more commodities began to lack.

Several fishing vessels had stared down the barrel of Wintonian cruisers who were unaccepting of any Parthonopian boat being out in the water, it was rumored that multiple hauls destined for Tivoli were confiscated and the crews of the fishers nearly arrested. The market stalls throughout the city slowly diminished in their variety and quantity, lines would form now outside the food shops as people waited to get what meager selection remained. The presence of the seemingly insatiably hungry army, better described as a rabble of leaderless militia, only heightened the issue. As days passed, news of the fate of the Governess Manin still unheard of, the inaction of the amassed crowd was to the displeasure of the local populace

In a strategic move the de facto leader of the Republican Guard, Captain Agostino Marchetti opted to withdraw the troops from Tivoli and settled where they currently found themselves. Agostino was officially recognized as the rank of Captain in the Guardsmen force prior to the Sapri Coup, however was the commanding officer of a much smaller contingent that was garrisoned near the County of Galivolare border. The Commander of the Republican Guardsmen, as well most of the higher ranking officials of the defense force, had fallen during the raid perpetrated by the nationalist militia force leaving the mob that remained leaderless at first. Gathered in a farmhouse amidst the encampment were the men and women that served as the decision makers of the force. They were the Captains of the outposts that had marched their forces there, several Senators that had been able to escape Sapri, as well as fiercely republican local leaders from several townships. All of them staunchly rejected Luco Villo's rule by force and his bloody uprising.

Captain Marchetti had been reluctantly chosen to be the new commander of the military division of the camp after the first convening of the dissidents in the farmhouse. He had been extremely vocal about the capabilities of the Guardsmen and what they should be doing. His passion was not overlooked and he was given command over the forces, being the same rank as any of the other present highest ranking officers it was not an outrageous decision. Agostino strongly urged the aptly dubbed Marcomer Emergency Council that they should march the force they had right up to Sapri to oust Villo and reestablish the Senate. The Council was hesitant to do so, fearing a defeat and more bloodshed but Marchetti was ardent on the subject. His vehement opinion on the matter was in fact personal in nature. Among the over one hundred Senators, whose fate is still unknown, that did not escape Sapri following the coup was his younger sister Felicita, the fiery progressive representative of one of the many Marcomer districts.

"The time to attack is now! We mustn't wait any longer else there will be no Senate left to re administer when we do take down Villo," Marchetti objected as he had done what seemed to him over a thousand times already.

He was met with the same excuses and averse replies that he had come to practically memorize. The force was not large enough, not strong enough, not ready. Waiting for Winst to take action was the best plan. Villo was so ignorant he would probably get himself killed without their help any way. Agostino was tired of it all.

"What more of a sign that the time has come than being ejected from Tivoli? Those people think we should have already conquered the capital back!"

A buzz and mumbled responses of both agreement and disagreement and shaking heads rippled across the room briefly. A taller man, leaned against a wall in a corner of the room cleared his throat. He was a factory owner, of one of the several in Tivoli, who had joined the Guardsmen camp after closing his factory due to a lack of work. Upon doing so he had propositioned to his workers to pay them to join him in fighting for the republic, over three quarters of them doing so and bolstering the force by over two hundred men.

"I agree with the Captain Marchetti! Enough is enough, the Wintonians won't fight this fight for us, they would rather wait and starve us all out. No one will step up to punish Villo but us and I cannot wait any more."

"I don't know about you but I have never, nor have my troops, seen combat. What makes you think those boys and old men out there are so ready to kill?" Interjected the Captain Zeno Crocetti. Zeno was among the Council members who opposed an immediate attack, conflicted on the issue as while remaining loyal to the Republic he was a proponent of unification. It was also a fear of retaliation from the Parthonopian Legion, which he knew had troops stationed in Eolie where his brother was a captain of the guard, that drove his reasoning.

Before the the discussion, or debate, got too heated the executive leader of the council, Sergio Parrina a former close confidant of the deceased Padova and a Senator himself, slammed the table with his fist twice and spoke up, "It is true, enough time has passed and clearly inaction will get us nowhere. But is attacking this republic's capital truly our best option? That I am not sure off and we will discuss further later. I do believe we should prepare to do so and be ready to do it within the next several days. We will vote, of course, to determine whether or not that is what should happ-"

"Then let us hold this vote now! The decision made and the men will be battle ready by tomorrow," Marchetti chimed, cutting Parrina off mid sentence.

"NO," Parrina said aggressively, "we will vote in two days, give all of us some time to think about it and have the opportunity to voice our thoughts and concerns on it here. In the meantime perhaps we should make our intentions clear and see what that may do for us, perhaps Villo will back down from a fight that he didn't sneak into. Go ahead and have breakfast we will meet again after lunch, prepare whatever you need to for discussing this then."

Everyone in the room moved almost simultaneously and groggily shuffled out of the building, Marchetti just shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

Senator and Executive of the Marcomer Emergency Council Sergio Parrina On the Subject of Sapri

OPEN TRANSMISSION

The truly unjust and abominable actions perpetrated by the nationalist paramilitary force, led by Luco Villo, are absolutely deplorable on every level. This illegal and violent action has rocked a peaceful region and brought much unnecessary strife and bloodshed to a formerly prosperous city and republic. Perhaps the unilateral decision of the still absent Governess Luciana Manin to disregard the Marcomer Republic's involvement in Parthonopian unification, without consent of the Senate, was outside of her powers. However, the premeditated slaughter of over one thousand innocent lives and disposal of the democratic ideals that form the backbone of this Republic was far more an egregious crime than that of the Governess's actions and entirely unwarranted. As I write this message now I am formed with the remainder of the voice of the Senate and the brave men who have served the Republican Guard as well the patriots who have taken up arms along side them. We intend to retake our freedom and dispose of the tyrannical sociopath that rules Sapri today. Luco Villo heed my warning, you will pay for your crimes. We will not rest until justice is served for the souls lost earlier this month in Sapri and the unknown fortune of Governess Manin. I do not stop at condemning Villo, however vile of a man he may be. The displeasure and anger I voice here, which is echoed by the very people whom I represent, does not end with Villo but extends to the Field Marshal Friuli and the entirety of the Commonwealth government. I was among those who was hopeful for a unified Parthonopia, however my support wanes exceedingly faster as further atrocities are committed across the land that he claims to champion. Friuli, if you are a true patriot the Marcomer Massacre, aptly dubbed by foreign media outlets, should be as appalling to you as it is me. The world sits idly and watched this horror story pan out in my backyard. I am among many brave men and women who will no longer wait for a third party to intervene. LO!, Now the fire beacons have been lighted, let our hearts be now united. Sapri will be held by its rightful owners once again!
Sincerely,
Sergio Parrina

Castello d'Cormor
Ancona, Principality of Ancona
16th of January, 2017
1202 local time

Another day another incendiary diplomatic communique condemning whatever the last action of the Commonwealths government was. Friuli was once again finding himself en route to sit and meet with Prince Carlo, however this time he found himself tentatively approaching the door to the office study of the monarch. Having spoken to him briefly over the phone, Carlo seemed far from ecstatic to converse with Friuli and a strong sense of urgency could be heard in his tone. The Field Marshal was still wallowing in the wake of the quasi disastrous meeting with the President of Caer aMuirehen, Maverick Stark, unsure as how to feel about the proceedings of it. The decree of Cardinal Paolo Bagnasci of the Extraordinary Jubilee of Blessing the previous day had helped to alleviate some of the stress of the present situation but the early morning message out of the Marcomer Republic renewed the many heated issues in the new found nation.

Friuli, knocking first, entered the chamber to Prince Carlo and the Princess Eliza both sitting down before him. Friuli smiled at Eliza who did the same back to him before greeting the King, "Voestra Maestra! You have called, sir," bowing from his chest with a salute, rising to turn to Eliza who had her eyes trained on him, "and the lovely Princess, a pleasure, buon pomeriggio."

"Enough of the niceties!" Carlo snapped, he was not in the mood for formalities and small talk, "Ignazio I am not pleased. Sit down."

Friuli paused for a moment to glare at the Prince, studying the expression on his face which was plainly irate with his cheeks red and his brow furrowed, many deep lines on his forehead. He took a seat and looked across at Eliza, whose uneasiness was more than apparent, before turning to Carlo and nodding to him to continue.

"Why is it any time some one of any importance and relevance opens their mouth to the global community it is to condemn you? Why does no foreign leader have a single kind word to describe you with? Is it because you are a poor leader? Noooo, of course it can't be, after all I handpicked you to do this! But how can you be fighting to promote the well being of, and future for, Parthonopia when nothing you may do is acceptable by those who look on?"

"Do you question my integrity sir?" Friuli lashed back, although ensuring to check himself and stay in line.

"What I question is how do we change the course of destruction you've beset us upon? Our goals were unachievable from the start and now as foreign nations join our enemies by the day it is a fool's dream! What I question is whether or not you truly are the man that can turn this around from the dark outcome that seems impending." Carlo seemed to growl that last sentence at Friuli who blinked nervously before replying.

"Carlo I drink, breathe, and bleed Parthonopia! My loyalty, to the death, is to this nation and to its glory. I love Parthonopia and I am fully devoted to this cause and these people. My loyalty to this nation is undeniable-"

"And then what of your loyalty to me?!" Carlo roared, standing up from his desk.

"I have just said it to you! You are Parthonopia, Vostra Maesta. My loyalty for this nation is to you, what I do for this cause is for you. If I die for Parthonopia I die for you, my lord. I recognize your feelings here, the future is dim if we continue down this path. What we are condemned for is largely not of my direct action and is in large part due to Wintonian and Malaguenian propaganda. The dissent in the March of Istria does drastically hurt our cause but the fight is nowhere near lost. There are moves we can take to counter the swing of the scale." Friuli had remained seated and used every ounce of self control he possessed to speak calmly and plainly without raising his voice or matching Carlo's intensity. The effort had paid off as the Prince had visually cooled down but was still scowling as he spoke.

"And what is it you propose?"

"Well, the main grievance cited is that I am characterized to be a military dictator ruling the Commonwealth by force. This is exacerbated when I am the sole voice in foreign diplomatic communications. You're, er, absence hasn't helped and leads many to believe that I wish to take absolute power myself or that I already have, even. The abrasive tactics that Ongaro has employed and our loosely affiliated advocates, like Luco Villo, also further the image of anarchy and totalitarian control."

Carlo's eyes were stern as he stared at Friuli with the burning gaze of a hundred suns, "Then I will present an open letter to world and see if I can undo any of your misdoings! Your move, Field Marshal, is to deal with that uppity shit Villo! Give Parrina Sapri and get Marcomer on our side, get into contact with your pal Di Pietro and move those troops from Eolie to Sapri. Crush Villo and liberate the city, save some face for the cause before it is entirely tarnished."

Friuli nodded in agreement but continued to interject, "Yes, I most certainly support you addressing the issues at hand. On the part of Villo, however he has been a valuable asset to our movement and although the Sapri Coup was no peaceful march it spared us fighting a civil war with the Marcomer Republic."

"Ohhh yes, how can I forget? He so nice! Pagato mi scarpe! Are you a god damned fool, Ignazio? Did I sense a hint of dissent in your tone, boy?"

"Carlo," Eliza had mustered the courage to speak and intervened on the discussion, "perhaps you should cut Ignazio some slack, the reactionary nature of these globalists is not of his control."

Carlo snapped his attention to her and jostled straight back upright as he had been slowly positioning to sit back in the chair prior to her comment, "Dannazione, volpe! Hold your tongue, now! Both of you be on your way, I have a pressing message to deliver and cannot be impeded by the two of you. Go."

Both Friuli and Eliza jumped up from their seats and headed for the door, Eliza scoffing as she did so. Friuli held the door open for the Princess, bowing his head as she exited, and turned to Carlo before closing the door to give him a bow and say , "Voestra Maesta." Carlo waved him off and Friuli closed the door and began briskly walking down the corridor until he was shortly stopped by Eliza as he passed her. She grabbed his left arm as he tried to brush past and pulled him towards her. Placing her right hand on his shoulder as he faced her, a tiny tear rolling down her cheek, she said to him, "It is wrong what he said in there, Ignazio. I know you are a good man, I know your loyalty is true. Carlo has only just realized the bleak surrounding and just like anyone else who cannot accept responsibility he is trying to pass along the blame. Don't let it get to you, you can't let this hinder your destiny."

Ignazio smiled, she still had her hands on his shoulders. He placed his right hand on her hip and his left on her shoulder. Her knees buckled momentarily before he spoke, "You are a truly brilliant and impassioned woman, Eliza, more than you would be given credit for. Carlo is a truly lucky man to have you by his side."

He took his right hand and brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek, placing her hair behind her ear unveiling her face which was glowing and bright red. Eliza grasped her wrist behind Friuli's neck and pulled him in close to her, he didn't pull away as she leaned in and kissed him. When she didn't seem to quit after a few pecks he pushed her back gently and looked her dead in the face, his bright red, and said "We cannot." before spinning around and briskly walking away.

by **Agoslia** » Sat Mar 11, 2017 7:37 am

OOC: I left my draft post at my aunt's house so yeah. I had to come up with something else.

"The bravest man is not he who is prepared to die but he who is humble enough to admit defeat. It takes real courage to lower one's ego and accept that you are lost." - Baratio Ignalto, 1925

Streets of Avelino,
Avelino, Parthonopia
29th of December, 2016
0813 local time

As the minutes passed on, the fighting continued. Two armies locked in combat upon the once proud city of Avelino, one fighting for its freedom and sovereignty as a unified state, the other defending themselves upon the former army who had entered their home city and attacked. Having roughly the same numbers, the Agoslian-Avelino army had the upper hand when it came down to military equipment though this particular unit has lost most of its effectiveness that came with training due to the slack that came with Avelino deployment.

The unit's commander, BG Ashton Sullivan, wished now that he had been a more strict with his leadership. Yes, he had been strict with some parts of their deployment to Avelino such as with regards to patrols but that was mainly to look good to the higher ups. As with most but not all of the Agoslian troops stationed in Avelino, he had viewed his deployment to the said city as a paid vacation wherein escape from the strict military life was possible. Why they signed up for the military in the first place if they despised the discipline and strictness, nobody knows.

Now, Sullivan paces through the War Room within the Agoslian fortress nervously as a scout finished his status report. The Parthonopians continue to advance on the eastern and western fronts though there appears to be no movement on the center bridges. Meanwhile, the artillery assault on the city continues. What the Parthonopians lacked in equipment, they made up for with ferocity. It also didn't help that the Avelino populace were untrained.

Sensing certain death if this were to continue, the Brigadier General contacted Agoslia HQ and called for reinforcements. While it was true that it would take weeks for Agoslian troops from the mainland to arrive, he was certain that he can evade Parthonopian capture until then. He must survive at all costs. "Private! Ready the chopper," he barked as the call was done. It's time to leave. Goodbye Avelino.

by **Parthonopia** » Sun Mar 12, 2017 1:37 am

OFFICIAL COMMUNIQUE OF THE KING OF PARTHONOPIA

"Astra Inclinant, Sed Non Obligant"

From the Desk of Prince Carlo della Ancona

OPEN COMMUNICATION
On the Subject of Parthonopian Unification
16th of January, 2017

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN,

AFTER long last I have taken the time to meticulously formulate an address to present to the world as my first official communication as King; it is without doubt that the national leaders of the world around have been watching on, with baited breath, the escalating tumultuous circumstance in my home country. Over the course of a time frame that may feel to be the passing of several months, only twenty whole days truly, a wild array of disastrous, unethical, and deplorable events have ravaged these sacred lands. At the time that I had delegated the freshly appointed Prime Minister, Field Marshal Friuli, to deliver the first public statement as a unified, sovereign nation the future ahead seemed bright and fruitful. A new day, a new reckoning evening, for the lives of the average soul of Parthonopian birth came with the conclusion of the historic Convention on the Cormor. Boldly and defiantly the conveners of this event, whom I hold in the highest regard with the utmost respect, dissolved the Treaty of Oliviera and its arbitrary rulings of imperialists from over a century ago. Since the conclusion of the Convention, however, as the chronicles of this drama incessantly developed the current state of this new found union, an experiment in truth on a grand scale, has taken a turn for the worst. Thousands of my countrymen are displaced, roaming the countryside in groups like the travelling hordes of old; they do so because their homes have been stolen from them, by fire our murderous profiteers like Luco Villo in the Marcomer Republic. The inherent chaotic nature of such a world shattering move has, unfortunately, provided the opportunity for vulture like characters, Villo in mind but not limited to, to appear and take advantage of the fracturing diaspora and slippery dynamic that is Parthonopia.

Thus far I have only alluded to Villo as one of the wolves, among various other scavenger type beasts, that plague the peaceful rise of this great nation from the shackles of bondage. It is plainly obvious, more than apparent for any witness standing on the sidelines and observing, that the aforementioned Marcomer Nationalist is not the only player in perpetrating the setbacks of moving this region into the future. The list of guilty parties in defiling and further traumatizing and humiliating the people of Parthonopia is a long and still expanding ticket. It is with all of my hopes and intentions that this previous comment is not misconstrued in the eyes of foreign political theorists and media outlets; Parthonopians DO NOT stand alone in being the sole culprit of the many trespasses and injustices that this land has faced in the few short weeks of the dawning of this new year. Simultaneously as the count of refugees expands, so does the total of Parthonopian citizens, hard working men and women and their children, who are without a steady source of nourishment. Even were the scenario to be alternate and the soil of Parthonopia to be dry and without life, perhaps then would the wide scale famine of my people be the slightest bit understandable. That is not the case, however, as the fields in the north country are ripe and fertile, the seas to the south bountiful with pilchard, huso huso, and a litany of other fresh fish for harvest. The potential for bounty is readily available so a reasonable person may ask as to why Parthonopian children will attempt to sleep tonight while their hungry stomachs restlessly groan for sustenance?

The answer to this question is a truly appalling one to a person of any moral standing and virtue. It is not due to a lack of capability that innocent people are going hungry, the number of whom is growing by the day, but firstly in part due to the demeaning and virtually crippling regulations implemented by the original signing of the Treaty of Oliviera. For over a century the growth of industry and prosperity throughout the many Parthonopian states has been hindered and prevented at every turn to the gain of meddling foreign interest holders, most specifically those hailing from signatory states of the the treaty. All the while that production and its advancement was being impeded upon, the underdeveloped network of Parthonopian states each buckled under the burden of their own outrageous debts and tithes, feasibly impossible to work off. This encumbrance was collected by means of which are unnerving; at first exploiting the articles of the laughable treatise, specifically regarding the clauses on indefinite military access. Foreign army contingents collected their 'taxes' by force, directly from the poor and working class in the form of their crops and harvests. Extorting local leadership was commonplace, whole provinces' economies contingent on the whim of key foreign carpetbaggers. Ultimately the systematic exploitation and degradation of the Parthonopian race evolved to less brash methods as the opportunistic leaders of Winst and Malaguenia became more eloquent and skilled at their trade of taking advantage of this land.

For some time now, in more recent decades, as the globalist powers adapted their style of imperialism from hard to soft control the many provinces that now form the Commonwealth experienced a period of relative stability, yields increasing and debts less burdensome. The Parthonopian people have been forced to become resilient. The subservient nature of our position after the treaty led to subsistence living which compelled the many states, out of necessity for continued survival, to construct their lives, economy, and infrastructure in a way that is sustainable, living almost entirely off of what is provided to them by the land the Lord so graciously permits us to tend to. This has allowed the potential famine and near extinction of our proud and noble race to be thankfully avoided, although I am sure to the dismay of our oppressors. What crumbles us now is the massing of warships in our waters, guns trained on every port along the coast, that prohibit anything from entering or leaving. Wintonians can truly not be pleased unless the only ships leaving a Parthonopian port with Parthonopian cargo is flying a Wintonian flag with some prominent Wintonian company's emblem on the side.

By now word of the 'secret' meeting with Prime Minister Friuli and the President of Caer aMuirehen, Maverick Stark, has assuredly reached the desk of every astonished world leader affected. Many questions have arose from that brief collaboration, I just as perplexed as some who may be reading this now. What I can provide, of value to the subject, is to answer two important frequent inquires and give a brief statement on what took place in my own perspective of the happenings. The first query I wish to address is the concern brought up by many a propagandist; "Why was Prince Carlo not the one who met with President Stark?" My answer to this is not what the conspiricists have hypothesized, such as that I am already dead at the hands of the tinpot dictator Friuli or that I simply cowered with fear when a foreign leader arrived. These are libelous misstatements; my position, as determined by the distinguished attendees of the Convention, is that of a figurehead and my power on a political and executive level federally is limited. Therefore, as well as it being unbecoming for a monarch to meet in person a potential enemy during a time of war, I ensured that this nation's Prime Minister, duly elected himself by the Convention with no use of strong arming, do his duty and fulfill the obligations of his position. One of the key facets of the role of Prime Minister is to do just that, meet and engage in diplomacy with other heads of state. The second question is much trickier to answer; "Why did Friuli decline Stark's demands of elections, a constitution, etc?" I respond to that with an old Parthonopian proverb: "Is it better to live one day as a lion, or one hundred years as a lamb?"

I wholeheartedly answer that question, myself, with a resounding wish to be the lion. Parthonopia has served her sentence of one hundred years as a lamb, our day as the lion commencing the moment the last punctuation on the constitution was writ at the Convention. I have seen what yielding to upstart foreign nationalists does for this land and its people, our rejection of it is the whole premise that I write this message upon. We will not bend once again to the agendas of foreign imperialists who only wish to achieve their own gain. President Maverick Stark does not have the best wishes of Parthonopia in his heart, as least his proposals lend reason to believing that. The terms he asks for have already been met; the Commonwealth has a constitution, my power is limited through political checks and balances and the 'military dictator' was rightfully elected Prime Minister. The issue that the Oliviera Coalition raises is not that our form of government is illegitimate or unjust rather that their power in the region is being stripped, a guise of fighting for justice and liberty shrouding their warmongering and greedy intentions from the people of these nations. Furthermore, I must blatantly state that Friuli, although reprimanded for some his recent more abrasiveness maneuverings, is not the man he is slandered to be on foreign media outlets. The Field Marshal is a righteous and noble man that will, of his own admission, fight and die for this nation; his passion for the people of this land is unending and his loyalty to the cause of Parthonopian freedom will last as long as he breathes.

Despite my relative absence on the world scene, the doings of the Field Marshal are just as much my own as they are his. I have been aware and informed of all of the ongoings in the painful process of Risorgimento, even lending my assistance as far as providing options and ideas to plans of and for running the Commonwealth. As gingerly as Wintonian media and the Populous Donovan Paige may try to avoid saying it, recognizing this nation on such as low a level as referring to us by name, but make no mistake that the lion has been awoken! THIS IS Parthonopia, WE ARE Parthonopia. WE are a force to be reckoned with and while I urgently stress a wish, even as far as a plea, for a peaceful conclusion to this saga my countrymen and I are braced for a fight. WE are resolved to bring home an historic victory. Our mercy displayed in the first communication to the world regarding still recognizing foreign control of Parthonopian land (i.e. Wintonian Puorto Lafina, Malaguenian Eastern Counties) is hereby revoked. Whatever means necessary, historical provinces will be returned, be it through diplomacy or force of arms. While this is not a declaration of war, this is a statement of intentions; Parthonopian will not cede. Parthonopia is for Parthonopians.

As of this very moment there are 1,300 estimated safe and quartered servicemen and women of the Agoslian Battalion that was garrisoned in Avelino, both unharmed and in various conditions of injuries, sheltered within the Grand Captain Ongaro's camp. In an act of generosity we have taken the liberties of burying, with proper services, the deceased and tending to the medical needs of the multitudes of wounded and convalesced. Albeit the latter remark may come to the displeasure of some, ostensibly due to the fact that the 'primitive and downright barbaric aubergines' that encompass the population of the Parthonopian provinces clearly must not be of the same modern medical skill and capacity as that of the Plutonic Republic or of these combatants home country of Agoslia. Regardless of the nature of medical services in the Commonwealth, all those at present held captured that suffered from a recoverable injury have been treated for and the unit of Agoslian prisoners as a whole awaits judgement of their fate. War is not a horror I have ever had to bare witness to directly before in my lifetime, I am thankful that I have been spared that hardship prior to this year. The wet behind my ears for combat does not make me thirsty for it, in fact quite the opposite; I dread conflict and have always relied on my wit and words to survive and advance myself. To this end I like to, humbly, consider myself a reasonable man and one whom is willing to compromise and negotiate. Whereas I stand steadfast behind the words above, that does not dismiss my inclination to the extend the courtesy to my enemies of some basic human decency. What is to become of the thirteen hundred some odd Agoslian soldiers is entirely in the hands of Prime Minister Dario Makilin and the King Tewardo VII, however. If Olivieria Coalition forces are in the same position as the Grand Captain in Avelino and show the same courtesy to our troops, straying from masking their crimes behind not recognizing the brave Legionnaires as a state army, I can assure you the continued safety and respectful care of the imprisoned troops until such a point as this whole debacle is re mediated. I do not believe it to be stretch for one to assume what the outcome of these soldiers would be were Coalition forces to show an unjust treatment to any Parthonopian.

Although some of the actions of the Grand Captain Ongaro himself whilst the Battle of Avelino may be condemnable, may I restate the instigators of this bloodshed were the battle itchy Agoslian BG and the traitorous local leader, Mayor Batista. The first shots fired in the skirmish were by fellow Parthonopians who betrayed their nation and it was upon Ongaro's force which was only moving through the region, as it had done once before over a year and a half ago. This traitorous behavior was premeditated and the open assault on Commonwealth troops is an act of war, Ongaro did the rational move of fighting back. Most unpleasantly this fight was not without collateral damage, both to the city itself and the innocent civilians whose lives have been forever changed. What I will leave the world with is that I hope the Battle of Avelino can be a lesson that we all may learn from and that war is not doomingly inevitable. I pray that the taste left your mouth from the battle is not for more blood but the bitter taste of sorrow for the lost and an urge to refrain from further bloodshed.

Sincerely,

Voesta Maesta Carlo I
King of Parthonopia
Prince of Ancona

VIVA LA PARTHONOPIA!

by **Parthonopia** » Sun Mar 12, 2017 5:03 am

Agoslia wrote:"The bravest man is not he who is prepared to die but he who is humble enough to admit defeat. It takes real courage to lower one's ego and accept that you are lost." - Baratio Ignalto, 1925

Streets of Avelino
29th of December, 2016
1601 local time

"Have a Good Funeral, My Friend."

Since the first howitzer had fired its first shell inbound for Avelino there had not been a singular moment of rest from the thunderous explosions of ordinance nor for the crews of the guns who worked frantically, sweat pouring off their bodies. The artillery officers, fulfilling commands trickling down all the way from the Grand Captain himself, had kept the crews manning the guns relentlessly so that whilst every waking moment of the day at least one howitzer somewhere on the line was continuing the bombardment. The men who were trapped in the rhythm of their back breaking grueling work had basically stripped down to their underwear in the excitement of the battle over the course of the hours of the day. The guns had heated to such a point from the seemingly endless barrage that water was being scurried to the crews in buckets to be poured on the metal as it turned orange to prevent injury to the men. Some crews were going as far as to piss on the howitzer in intervals to try to alleviate some of the scalding. After all urine smelling hands was not as bad the second and third degree burns that was all too familiar to many of the men on artillery that day.

The day was slowly coming to close, although it was arguably the longest day in history for the men and women that were present to witness the atrocities of war firsthand. With little over a couple of hours of sunlight remaining before it hid behind the horizon, a renewed sense of urgency rippled across the ranks. At noon, mostly out of impatience, Ongaro had began to advance troops, starting at first with regiments before moving to whole companies. As companies entered Avelino from the two extreme flank bridges, the preliminary forces already holding the city side of the river began to advance and reclaim the Parthonopian line as far as the lack of enemy response went. It was not until around the two o'clock hour that Ongaro, anxious to bring the fight to a conclusion, made the definitive maneuver of the battle and declared the advancement of the center force along the two central bridges. A single company, a thousand men strong, quickly traveled the expanse of the river and fanned out their position once on the other side. To their surprise, although thankful for the mercy the Lord showed them with it, they were not met with any resistance.

Much like the brick and mortar infrastructure the Legionnaires combed, the Avelino defense just north of the bridges was shattered and crumbled, only the carnage and scattered remains of it left to prove it had ever even existed in the first place. The dead littered the field, the injured comrades of the deceased lying next to them howling in pain, most wishing that would just die already and be spared the anguish. As the Legionnaires moved forward those that did not bare Agoslian military identifiers were granted the wish, the cold tip of a bayonet dispatching them to the next life.

Ongaro looked on with awe and a strange sense of pride as the wind picked up, whipping smoke which billowed from the destruction in a playful manner across the horizon. Rather than waiting for the arrival of the first two companies to the opposite shore to pan out, Ongaro, happy with the first call information he had received, gave the command for the entirety of the center, save for two reserve companies to remain and hold the line with the three other companies that had been issued strict orders to hold. It was with a smile that Ongaro gave the final personal touch on what he assumed to be some of the last major commands of the day, other than when the victory feast would be held. It wasn't until he himself, along with Vincenzo Fiorino who had never left his side throughout the extent of the onslaught, began to head in the direction of the bridge to give himself a better first hand view that he was allowed the pleasure of hearing what was his favorite order of the day being followed to a tee as the Parthonopian Legion marched across the bridges with a sort of bravado not usually attributed to a group of men charging towards an uncertain and potentially hazardous predicament. What Ongaro heard, echoed through the streets and the hollowed shells of homes and business, was the shouting of a specifically heinous cadence that he was all to fond of. The lyrics of this particular marching song being in English, the lingue franca of Greater Olympus, it was intended to be understood by the enemy clearly and strike fear in their hearts as the marauding army they have been trained to hate and fear pushes deeper and deeper into their home.

"Running to the battlefield with gun in hand!
Gonna follow ev'ry order, ev'ry command!"

Seemingly innocent start it isn't until the chorus shows the true colors of the lyrics and the intent it paints for its performers. With an emphasized rest note after each word, the points of the chorus could be heard loud and clear for miles as four thousand voices, each with various levels of enthusiasm behind it, shouted along.

"We're gonna Murder! Rape! Pillage and Burn!
Murder! Rape! Pillage and Burn!

We fight for our country,
The land of the brave,
We'll kill all your children,
We'll make you a slave!

We'll rape all your women!
We'll burn your house down!
We'll kill all your children!
We won't make a sound!

We're gonna Murder! Rape! Pillage and Burn!
Murder! Rape! Pillage and Burn!"

The cadence seemed to repeat endlessly as following the last chorus the first verse would repeat again, then the chorus another time, and instinctively the soldiers, so desensitized to the idea of violence and the evil implications they sang about, seemed to continue the cadence on a loop as they moved forward through the city. The Avelino defense was clearly lacking as the Agoslian Battalion forces had not shown their faces since the first series of skirmishes they lost so swiftly at the start of the battle. The only resistance the Parthonopian line was met with was by pockets of Avelino Police and armed levy that engaged and withdrew just as quickly, only aiding in slowing the advance from a jogging stream roll to a series of small fire fights every couple of blocks. Each time the Legionnaires stepped foot on a block that had not yet reached the head of the attack would be fired upon until the numbers filled and the exasperated civilian defense force would retreat two more blocks north and east to hook up with whomever was waiting there to do the same thing to next Parthonopian at the front of the line.

The line kept moving, however, at this one static line across the southern half of the city as the center quickly caught up to the depth that the flanks had extended. Ongaro's next goal in the day after successfully getting his army across the river was to take the fortress and wipe out what remained of the Agoslian Battalion. His intent was obvious as the brunt of his attention was going towards a hurried offensive push along the roads leading to the lone bridge connecting the fort and the city.

by **Caer aMuirehen** » Sun Mar 12, 2017 8:27 pm

Maverick had not planned to talk to Congress today. But, word had reached him that they were meeting later today to vote on the removal of all Caer aMuirehenian resources from Parthonopia and the surrounding sea. King Maesta Carlo’s announcement had come out yesterday morning, much to the displeasure of many in Caer aMuirehen.Maverick’s meeting with Friuli was turning into an international joke. Already, many powerful nations across Greater Olympus has reach out to express their extreme discomfort in the meeting that had taken place. Now, the King of Parthonopia was mocking Maverick and the meeting as well. This was not at all what he had in mind when he travelled down to meet the rebel leader Friuli. It was clear now that he has been naive. No one, even the leaders of Parthonopia, were truly concerned with the freedom and health of the citizens of Parthonopia. This game of politics had gotten the better of Maverick and now he must save face with his own Congress.

As Maverick walked into the Congressional Hall, he couldn’t help but noticed that every seat were filled. The front of the hall was filled with Senators and members of Parliament, the back filled with assistants to both sides of Congress. As he approached the podium he could not help but feel butterflies in his stomach, how has this gotten to this point? A quest for global freedom had led him to this moment, the life blood of his quest hanging on by a thread. If the asset were pulled from Parthonopia they would be dooming those people to squaller. He arrived at the podium, placed his notes down, cleared his throat, took a deep breath, looked up at the room filled in front of him and began.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of Congress, I stand in front of you today not as your President, but as a man, as a father, a brother, a son, a person of Greater Olympus. Global perspective can change. Friendships come, go and change. Leaders are elected, and then leave office. Someday others will be standing at this podium and sitting in those seats. But when a life is ended, it can not be brought back. When a man dies, we can not reverse our actions. As we sit in this room, brave men and women are doing their part to preserve life in the country of Parthonopia. As we worry about optics and international diplomacy, families are starving and being forced from their homes. It is not just the rebel leader and his upstart government, but those we would call friends that are bringing death and severe positive to the citizens of Parthonopia. By removing our men and women from Parthonopia, we are putting hundreds if not thousands of people to death by starvation, malnutrition and illness. That makes us no better than those who are starving these people out and killing them in war. Our sons and daughters will come home tonight and eat a good meal, if they get sick, we will drive them to a hospital, tonight they will lie in their beds with a roof over their head. All of this will happen for our families. But what about the families in Parthonopia? Can they say the same thing?”

Maverick took a deep breath and scanned the room, his message was getting through to some in the room.

“You may say that it is not our job to save the world. Or, that we are spending money on a nation that clearly does not want our help. But, I would argue that it is our job, to do what we can, to protect and enable personal freedoms across the globe. We may not change the outcome of the war, or the leadership in Parthonopia. But we can save the lives of thousands. Someday we will all be gone, our children will be gone, their children will be gone. What will carry on throughout the ages is the ideals that we passed on and the lives we touched. Very few people get the chance to forever change the lives of people they have never met. Today we have that chance, the questions is; do we change their lives in a positive way, or do we condemn them to death? We must all look inside ourselves and make that decision right here and now. Who are we if we do not extend our hand to protect those who cannot protect themselves? Who are we if we sit in our homes, eat our food and tuck our children into bed, and then force others to live without? Men and women of Congress I ask you now, who are we? What will our impact be? Global perspectives can change, but lives can not be brought back. Our decision, your decision, today, is not a questions of international government relations, but a questions of the value of a human life. Thank you for letting me speak to you today. I will eagerly await your decision”.

As Maverick walked out of the room he could already hear voices raising in discussion. A slight smile arose on his face. He knew he did not have to convince them all, just enough to keep their resources in Parthonopia.

***********************

Maverick was sitting at his desk, working his way through the stack of paper that never seemed to get any smaller. The he heard the beep on his phone, he clicked the button “Yes”. His assistants voice was on the other end “The Congressional Speaker is here to see you”. “Let him in” Maverick replied. He complied the papers he was working on and set them aside. The door opened, and he stood up to great Christian Moreau. “Hi Chris, I hope you are bring me good news”. “Possibly” Christian replied. “Sit, I would hear what you have to say”.

Both men sat down, Christian opened up his binder, gathered his thoughts and began. “So, Congress has voted to keep all our resources. But, it comes with a stipulation”.

“A stipulation? I am not a foreign diplomat, I am the President, Congress cannot make demands of me!” Maverick came off a little more heated then he had expected.

“Sir, with all do respect, if you turn this down, we will re vote and all assets will be removed. We are not “demanding” anything perse. We want to do the right thing for the people of Parthonopia, but not at the continued cost of our global reputation. At some point this conflict with Parthonopia will be over, and we must retain friendly relations with nations across the globe. We are recommending that you take a world tour and visit the nations across Greater Olympus in an attempt to build relationships and bolster international opinion of our nation. We also recommend that your first stop is Winst, as they have been most offended by recent actions”.

“I see the value in this train of thought. Let Congress know that I will be heading towards Winst as soon as I am able. Thank you Christian, this is good new”.

“Mr. President”, “Speaker”

Christian left the room, and Maverick headed to his desk. He was excited that all the resources would stay in Parthonopia. But, this ‘tour” would take weeks and there were logistics to figure out with him being outside the country for weeks. Out of one fire, and right into another.

by **Saint Fedski** » Thu Mar 16, 2017 6:27 pm

Note Verbale from the Embassy of Lambton in Winst to the Department of Foreign Affairs of Winst

From the Embassy of Lambton in Winst to the Department of Foreign Affairs of Winst

Embassy of Lambton
No. 03

The Embassy of Lambton presents its complements to the Department of Foreign Affairs and has the honour to present an opportunity to pursue peace and stability in the region of Parthonopia.

The Embassy of Lambton deeply regrets the developing crises in Parthonopia that threaten to escalate into civil war. Lambton wishes to share its thoughts and prayers for the safety of all Wintonian citizens and military personnel that may be effected by these deepening crises.

The Embassy of Lambton continues to consider the scope and term of the Treaty of Oliviera (1901) to be over-reaching. That the Treaty provides no mechanism for the Parthonopian people or monarchy to regain sovereignty, in whole or in part, has complicated the stability of the region and continues to adversely impact the prosperity of all neighbouring nations. Appropriately, the Embassy of Lambton respectfully requests Winst to reconsider enforcement of the Treaty as an important step toward peace and prosperity.

The Embassy of Lambton is honoured to offer its assistance, to act in good faith as an honest broker, to establish and facilitate dialogue with the de facto regime of the Parthonopian region. The Embassy expressly wishes to ascertain and guarantee the safety of Prince Carlo and Princess Eliza during, and for, the purposes of negotiating an amicable and peaceful resolution to this matter. To help the process, Lambton wishes to seek the cooperation of the Republican Navy of Winst to ensure the safe and unobstructed passage of unarmed Lambtonite diplomatic aircraft, and all persons therein, to and from Parthonopian air space as coordinated through the designated military attache of the Embassy of Lambton in Winst.

The Embassy of Lambton wishes to assure the Department of Foreign Affairs that the safety of all Wintonian citizens and military personnel is an unnegotiable precondition for a peaceful resolution.

The Embassy of Lambton in Winst takes this opportunity to reiterate to the Department of Foreign Affairs the assurances of its highest consideration.

Silvus, [January 1, 2017].

(Seal of the Embassy of Lambton)

Diplomatic Note from the High Commissioner of Lambton in Agoslia to the Department of Foreign Affairs of Agoslia

From the Embassy of High Commissioner of Lambton in Agoslia to the Department of Foreign Affairs of Agoslia

Excellency;

I have the honour to present to you the Kingdom of Lambton's deepest regrets with regard to the unfolding and worsening situation in Parthonopia.

On behalf of Her Most Benevolent Majesty Queen Norberta I, the Government of the Kingdom of Lambton and the people of Lambton, I wish to express our most sincere condolences to His Majesty the King, the people of Agoslia and the families of the Agoslian service personnel whose lives have been lost or affected during this crisis. Our thoughts and prayers are with our brothers, sisters and neighbours in Agoslia.

In light of these recent catastrophic events, we take this opportunity to respectfully renew our request that Agoslia reconsider further enforcement of the Treaty of Oliviera (1901) as a necessary step toward regional peace and prosperity and to prevent additional loss of life.

We regret that the situation has descended into violence that has claimed the lives of an escalating number of people. The situation that escalates into a general civil war will undoubtedly have profound and lasting impacts on the Greater Adriadiac Region. We have no desire to witness any more of our brothers and sisters in Agoslia risk their lives for such an unnecessary and potentially costly adventure with so little to gain for the Kingdom of Agoslia.

I am both proud and honoured to inform you that Her Majesty and Her Majesty's Government have granted you our highest assurances of assistance. We intend to work with all involved parties to broker a reasonable and peaceful solution. I can assure you, Excellency, that agents of Her Majesty are already, and will continue, working tirelessly to secure the safety of all Agoslian nationals in Parthonopia as well as any military personnel that may be held captive. Also, as a necessary precondition to formal dialogue, we will demand the release and safe passage of all Agoslian citizens, civilian and military, from Parthonopia. This necessary demand, however, is more likely to be successful if we can, in turn, provide some assurances to Prince Carlo; namely that the escalation from Agoslia is not imminent.

As the best solution for all is one that results in peace in Parthonopia and further prosperity for the Greater Adriadiac Region, we fully intend to act as a neutral and honest broker to establish and facilitate dialogue between the Agoslian Government and the de facto regime of the Parthonopian region.

Accept, Excellency, the renewed assurance of my highest consideration.

(signature)
High Commissioner in Agoslia

Kumiga, [January 1, 2017].

(Seal of the Embassy of Lambton)

by **Saint Fedski** » Sat Mar 25, 2017 1:19 pm

The High Commissioner was sitting calmly in his office.

It wasn't much of an office. It was small and pretty empty. In the back corner stood a slightly rusty cheap metal a filing cabinet five drawers high. The High Commissioner kept his important files and his commonly used reference material in here. The faded pink painted walls were all but barren beyond the obligatory portrait of Her Most Benevolent Majesty Queen Norbert, situated directly behind the desk, and, directly in front of the desk, a pair of magnetic maps; one of the Kingdom of Agoslia and one of the general Adriadiac area. To his working left, two windows were positioned providing a fantastic view of the high commission's loading dock and waste disposal area; to his working right the plain office door.

Even the desk, generally the pride of any office, wasn't in any way, shape or form remarkable. The brown veneered piece of furniture crafted from the finest particle board the local big box store could source for the lowest cost wasn't fancy; it was functional. Large enough enough to provide ample room for sprawl, the L-shaped glorified table could be described only as a workstation.

This wasn't an office becoming of the most prestigious post in Her Majesty's Foreign Service, but yet here he sat, in his barren office, leaning back with his hands behind his head as he stared at the wall maps, lost in thought, reflecting on his most recent meeting with senior officials from the Government of Agoslia. The situation in Parthonopia was becoming a crisis. He was frustrated. Why had the Agoslian government failed to heed his warnings? Why had they been so insolent? Or were they just naive? After all, it had been over one hundred years since the Treaty of Oliviera had been signed and nothing more than meagre local revolts had taken place had happened.

But this time, the signs had been different, more widespread and more sinister. A general feeling of unrest – resentment - in the Parthonopian population had been building for years. All indications had pointed to a problem on a scale not yet encountered in Parthonopia, yet the occupying powers did nothing. Perhaps it was just complacency? Surely local law enforcement agencies would again be able to suppress the dissent. Alas, they could not and did not. Many from the militias' own ranks joined the nationalist movement and Agoslians were paying the price with their lives.

The High Commissioner had been scheduled to attend a formal meeting with representatives of the Agoslian government later in the week, but an early cable from the ministry offices in London this morning had given the talks a new urgency. Agoslian troops were under siege in Avelino and reports were indicative of a total collapse. “It was imperative,” according to the cable, “for high level discussions to take place with the Agoslian Foreign Ministry in all due haste.” And so it happened; an emergency meeting had been arranged and formal discussions had been had, albeit without the customary pomp and circumstance – the usual spectacle of excessive pleasantries that usually plagued such encounters. It was upon this meeting that the High Commissioner now reflected.

Shock caused by the clearly infected the attendees which included the foreign minister himself. The news was still raw and the casualty count, however inaccurate, alarming and horrifying all the same. It was unfortunate that the message had to be delivered under these circumstances, but there was no avoiding it.

[The content of the meeting is in the spoiler. A brief summary for the lazy read is after.]

“Your excellency,” the High Commissioner started. “We are absolutely devastated by what we have heard. Her Majesty the Queen sends her deep condolences.”

He paused for a moment, sensing the tension in the room. A subtle murmur crossed the silent room as the Agoslian's nodded in acknowledgement. It was unfortunate – this discussion was supposed to happen under better circumstances. There were to be drinks and food and laughter beforehand and then an almost lazy, nonchalant meeting to formalize the handshake agreements.

The High Commissioner continued.

“We have always been steadfast and unwavering in our support for the endeavours of our brothers and sisters in Agoslia, but we fear you might take our support for granted. This... adventure... in Parthonopia needs to come to an end. As you are well aware: Lambton's opinion hasn't changed. It was unnecessary to begin with, but while peace reigned there was little cause for concern. Regrettably, the situation has changed. Parthonopia is on the verge of civil war and your people, in Avelino, are only the first on what will likely be a substantial casualty list.”

This statement wasn't music to their ears. An emergency meeting at this level isn't arranged just for a simple 'I told you so' spiel. There was more to come. It wasn't likely to be good.

“This morass of a situation will be the final resting place for thousands of poor, poor souls if it doesn't end soon. Let Winst or another signatory drown in this mess, but let us, Lambton and Agoslia, work together to reconstruct Parthonopia. Not only will the solution be peaceful, it will benefit both nations. Why risk more lives with no tangible benefit when we can benefit and save lives?

“We are presently working to establish working dialogue with Prince Carlo and once the logistics are worked out, Her Majesty will be sending an envoy to open a direct line of communication. If we are to make headway with a peaceful Parthonopia, we need a stable government in place; one that recognizes Lambton and Agoslia as allies, not enemies. A government under Prince Carlo would be just that. Quite frankly, we don't know much about this militant Parthonopian upstart Friuli chap. We have no idea what his intentions are or what he is capable of. We fear he is likely to relegate Carlo to a figurehead role while he consolidates enough support to form his own government.

“Obviously, we can't expect an answer today so in the meantime we will do whatever it takes to make sure your people are safe and we will get them out of Parthonopia without any further harm. But, in order to make that work, we need your word that you won't inflame the situation... for the time being.

“You received our note this morning, my friends. We hope Agoslia will not take Lambton's support for granted and will respect our very reasonable requests. We do not want to be – and we will not be - dragged into this quagmire without damn good reason. Lambton cannot support a futile exercise that risks so much for so little. Through our rich history and deep cultural ties, our nations have developed a particularly special relationship based on mutual respect and trust and solidified over decades of close cooperation. Our connections are so deep that when one succeeds the other does as well. Unfortunately, the converse is true also. Please, my friends, I beg you, heed my warnings this time.”

The room remained silent. The Agoslian officials had expected the High Commissioner to rub salt in their wounds. They had expected the worst; the High Commissioner would preach from his self-righteous pulpit. “We told you this would happen. You had plenty of warning,” he proclaimed in their imaginations, but he didn't. Perhaps it was described as honest, diplomatic and respectful, but honest. He did not make light of the situation and not a single note of condescension was detected.

That's not to say the message was pleasant or welcome because it wasn't. It wasn't very often that such mildly strong diplomacy took place between Agoslia and Lambton so the intent was clear. Lambton was intending to remain silent on the Parthonopian problem no longer. A monarchy, friendly to Lambton, under Prince Carlo was the ideal and if that meant Lambton had to publicly distance itself from their Agoslian friends over Parthonopia for the first time so be it.

It wasn't all bad, however, as the High Commissioner made a point of leaving the door open to Lambtonite intervention. The conditions were vague: “damn good reason.” What did that mean? Perhaps it meant in case of foreign intervention or war crimes? Or maybe it implied Lambton would be willing to act to protect its interests? And, because Lambton had explicitly stated the safety of Agoslians currently in Parthonopia as its primary objective and necessary for peace, it was clear Lambton did not want to damage relations with its closest friend.

Thus the High Commissioner sat in his work office reflecting. The reaction, though muted, was welcome. Agoslia had tentatively agreed to stand down and allow Lambton's diplomats to work their magic.

by **Caer aMuirehen** » Sat Mar 25, 2017 3:44 pm

January 29th, 2017 - Terni, Pathonopia - CHAO Foreign Aid Outpost

Terni had turned into an odd town in recent weeks. Bjorn's platoon had been the first to land on the shores of Terni weeks ago. They had cleared a small plot of land for the Corsettan Humanitarian Aid Organization(CHAO) to set up a home base. A CHAO and aMuirehenian contingent had set up outside the town because the Bishopric of Terni and Cardinal Bagnasci had demanded that all weaponry be left outside the city. This kept most CHAO members from entering the city as they would not venture far from the outpost without aMuirehen protection. There were many in Parthonopia that would see all foreigners removed from the continent, even those that were trying to help. So for the first few weeks there was a strong divide between the City of Terni and the CHAO outpost.

Cardinal Paolo Bagnasci had declared a year of Jubilee on January 15th. Since then Parthonopian citizens had been coming into the area in droves. What was once a hard line between the city and the outpost was now blurred. Tents, tarps, lean-tos, and other makeshift "buildings" were strewn everywhere. As the population exploded the Bishopric and CHAO had to meet and discuss the ever worsening situation. Bjorn's platoon would be transporting the head of CHAO through the city to meet with the Cardinal this morning.

Bjorn stepped out of his tent, SA80 in hand. He had never had to fire it, but the presence made him feel safe. He had heard of recent events in Avelino and Tivoli, and both places were more heavily armed and defended then this outpost. Of the 450 aMuirehenian personnel in Terni, half were medical and engineering personnel. On top of that, they are protecting an ever growing area, including a city and thousands upon thousands of displaced citizens. Bjorn knew it wouldn't take much to ruin months worth of work. Today's meeting between CHAO and the Bishopric could see their efforts bolstered by city police forces and a unification of parties.

He approached the three Land Rover Wolves that would be taking them into the city today. After reviewing the orders one last time, Bjorn stepped up to the lead Rover and stepped up into the passenger seat. This Rover would lead the caravan, CHAO members would ride in the middle and a full Rover of aMuirehen troops filled the third. As they left the make shift barricades that separated the military compound from the rest of the compound Bjorn nodded to the guardsman at the gate.

Even though it had been weeks, it still took his breath away every time he ventured out of the compound. He had never seen poverty like this before in his entire life. The make shift structures of tarps, tents, wood, dirt and anything else people could find, were strewn about in haphazard fashion. Besides the main dirt path from the city to the compound, there was no roads through the jumbled mess. Dirt paths between small hovels were often covered with trash, muddy water and bodily waste. Thin, dirty people were out trying to make the best of the situation, most wearing the same clothes they had arrived in. CHAO and aMuirehen were doing their best to bring food and clothes to these people. But, both nations had to bring goods across large oceans. Then they had to get the goods past the blockade set up by Winst. On top of that, only smaller ships could dock in the port of Terni. Pair this with the continual influx of citizens and the situation was out of hand. These people were starving, disease was prevalent and there was nothing more any of them could do to change it. Bjorn shook his head at the thought, this is not what he signed up for.

It seemed like an eternity as they drove through the sea of dirty hovelled structures leading up to the city. Even in the car the smell was stomach turning. Bjorn could not get away from the smell, a mixture of sweat, disease and human waste coated the inside of his nose. Even after a shower the smell lingered everywhere. He had never been in the city of Terni before, but he hoped that the air was cleaner. He was sadly disappointed. At least outside the city air blew in from the coast and pushed some of the stench away. The buildings of the city seemed to lock the smell in here. It was denser and more pungent then he could imagine. The scene inside the city was rough, but better then the world outside it's walls. At first glance the city looked normal, but a closer looked revealed it's pain. As some people walked through the streets, others were huddled in ally ways under blankets and behind trash cans and debris. Bjorn could see eyes peaking out from curtains and behind half closed doors as their small caravan cruised through the city. Some buildings were boarded up and closed, a result of the lack of foreign resources coming through the city. As they approached the center of town things changed, the roads and ally ways were clear of trash and waste. Almost no buildings were closed down, and the citizens were wearing clean clothes. They even looked healthier to Bjorn. As the Rover turned the corner he saw the destination. The road was full of people lined up trying to get aid from the Bishopric. The caravan came to a halt, Bjorn jumped out and scanned the crowd. The CHAO members stepped out of the middle rover and started towards the building. Maybe things will change today Bjorn hoped.

by **Winst** » Wed Apr 05, 2017 5:16 pm

Mary Reslin:

Sapri, Marcomer Republic
January 2nd, 2017
0600 local time

Mary sat in a small room overlooking the small compound that represented the Wintonian Embassy to Marcomer. Outside the chanting had been growing louder as the mob of nationalist standing outside the gates grew. The gate had been electrified to prevent any attempts to attack the compound, however, it would only last until power was cut best case scenario was a few hours on backup generators, but Mary knew it wouldn’t be that long.

In the courtyard, scared Marcomer citizens had sought refuge in the embassy as the nationalist flooded the streets attacking any potential loyalists. Some of the old buildings had been sectioned off for asylum seekers, however, they had never prepared for such a large influx all at once, let alone on the skeleton crew that was left in the embassy. This left many in the open center of the compound being verbally assaulted by the crowd outside. The sleepy little republic of Marcomer had been a highly sought after position as a “vacation” tour. Mary had managed to snag the position after her time in New Phallia. Looking out the window the difference between expectation and reality began to hit her hard.

She had taken over for the communication director who had been in a nearby bar when the violence began. He had been hit in the head and nearly trampled to death. Luckily for him, two of his local friends had dragged him inside the compound before the mob had arrived at the gates of the consulate. It was a matter of waiting, at this point, until a satellite came into place and the Foreign Ministry tried to call her back. The rest of the team was busy wiping any and all sensitive data from the embassy after the internet went down completely.

As the morning sun crept over the embassy the buildings Mary looked back down at the gates. It had sounded so loud throughout the night yet there were so few people. She looked closer at the people surrounding the gates when they rapidly started dispersing. The crowd in the courtyard below started to panic at something Mary couldn’t see from her angle.

Moments later a black armored SUV crashed through the gate of the embassy, ripping the gate out of its structure. A brief silence swept over the embassy followed by the rumbling of feet as people began pouring into the compound with weapons in hand slaughtering the loyalist citizens in the courtyard. Out of the black SUVs, soldiers joined the mass of people expertly weaving through them towards their goal Mary’s building. The two security personnel in the courtyard were overrun in an instant as their guns fired aimlessly into the air. The remaining security guards retreated to the main building as the mob swarmed into the buildings full of asylum seekers. Guns firing within the buildings drowned out the screaming as the people inside most likely meet a fate similar to the ones in the courtyard.

Mary’s forced herself away from the window as her brain attempted to think of a way out of the building. As she entered the hallway the noise coming from below signaled the tide of the battle was quickly going against the ill-equipped security team. A sudden silence in gunfire marked the fate of the Wintonian forces all too well as the sound of several pairs of boots replaced it. In panic Mary looked for the only escape left; a small laundry shoot leading to the basement. She climbed in, hoping the laundry hadn’t been done in the last few days.

by **Lunderfrau** » Wed Apr 05, 2017 5:38 pm

11:13 AM Local Time, February 1st, 2017
Themyscira Palace, Laubenhugel,Lunderfrau

While the main conference room of the palace was quiet, the mood certainly was anything but. Looks of annoyance and frustration could be found on each of the 5 women who had gathered in the North West Room of the Palace to see the Kaiserin. Most sat at the large mahogany table that stretched across the length of the room glued to their phones. One however stood looking out from the NW corner window at the city of Laubenhugel.

“Would it have killed Mother to atleast be timely for once in her life” The women turned, looking to the four others seated around the table. The four women at the table looked at each other, seemingly trying to figure out which would answer. Finally the women sitting towards the back of the room spoke.

“Lady Candice, your mother is incredibly busy running the country and what not, you should at least cut her some slack.” Candice rolled her eyes and turned back towards the window.

“Director Kromer, while I respect your opinion as Director of the Foreign Inteligence Service, you know as well as I that my mother most likely rolled out of bed less than a few hours ago and has spent the last few hours gussying up to-” Before Candice could finish the door to the conference room opened. The Kaiserin walked in wearing her usual daily outfit, a dark red sweater with a charcoal sports coat, a black skirt and a pair of black high heels. Her tight curly hair bounced as she walked towards her seat at the head of the long table. The other women stood at attention, watching the Kaiserin take her seat before sitting themselves.

“So, I see Kromer, Adlai and Candice as well as General Nemetz and Commander Finkel before me today. I take it you’re not here to tell me the world is perfect and I can go back to sleep for another three hours.” Director Kromer shook her head.

“ I am afraid not my Kaiserin. I take it you are aware of the crisis in Parthonopia?” The Kaiserin nodded.

“Yes, I have read the briefs. Has something happened I should know about?” The women looked at each other nervously before Director Adlai of the Diplomatic Service Department spoke.

“No, it’s not what has happened but rather what isn’t happening. Lunderfrau has yet to declare a stance in the crisis. We know that the Nations of Winst, Agoslia, New Phalia, Essexia and Malaguenia have all publicly condemned the re-unification. On the other side, the Kingdom of Lambdon has given their support for a united Parthonopia but appear to want the Parthonopian Monarchy restored. Lastly we have the nations of Caer Amuerihen and Corsetto. They both seem to be more interested in humanitarian assistance rather than geopolitics.” Adlai cleared her throat and took a quick sip of water before continuing. “There’s a lot to consider here my Kaiserin.” The Kaiserin sat back in her chair and looked to the ceiling in contemplation. After a few minutes of silence she once again looked back to the group of women sitting before her.

“What do we know about the Parthonopians, my own knowledge stems from stories Great Grand Mother told us when I was only a child.” Kromer stepped in.

“I’ve placed special emphasis on our Parthonopia desk at the Service sine the unification was declared, unfortunately for us, we have little human intelligence on the ground in Parthonopia at this time nor do we have an extensive monitoring network there to tap. That being said, our analysts and ground teams have brought back some analysis.” As the director spoke, the windows of the room tinted black and the lights dimmed, a screen descended from the ceiling down the right side wall of the room. As the screen came into place, it lit up, a picture of bald-middle age man with a moustache in military garb appeared on screen.

“This is Field Marshal Ignazio Victor Friuli. He’s the main player in Parthonopia. He’s smart, charismatic, inspiring and ambitious. Over the past few years, he built an army of misfits, rebels and criminals and has transformed them into a decent fighting force. Intel we received out of the Avelino following skirmishes there between Agoslian Troops and his forces indicate they have decent equipment but lack more advanced training. Friuli is technically the Prime Minister of this regime but he certainly seems to be swaying towards becoming a dictator.” The picture on screen disappeared, only to be replaced by a another of a far better looking man of around the same age.

“This is Prince Carlo della Ancona, he’s the reigning Monarch of Parthonopia, however this is more a title than a position if you catch my drift. We know very little about him other than he descends from the Caiai dynasty, the same family we supported during the Civil War over a century ago. At this point, we can’t tell if he supports Friuli or desires to rule the land himself.” The screen went black as the lights came back on and the windows lost their tint. Slowly the screen began to ascend back into the ceiling from whence it came. “So that’s what we know, we’ve got a prime opportunity to gain a new ally in the region, but it must be done carefully as not to upset our neighbors and trigger a war.” The Kaiserin nodded.

“My Great Grandmother, Theodora, spoke of her time during the war to me when I was only 5. She was 21 at the time. The age of Kingdoms and Empires was coming to an end. Parthonopia, Lunderfrau and a few others stood as the last great monarchies of the world. Then Parthonopia descended into chaos and she found herself leading a platoon of Lunderfrausian marines across the coasts of Parthonopia. She would never speak of the battles themselves, only telling us they we’re horrific and should be a reminder of the preciousness of peace. Then only after a few months, she was called back to take the throne upon the passing of her Mother. By the time her steamer had reached Salzwinde, the war had concluded and the treaty was being hashed out. She never signed the treaty and Lunderfrau spent the next 32 years of her reign in deep isolation.” The Kaiserin paused to collect her thoughts and regain some composure that had been lost recounting her Great Grandmother’s tale.

“The fall of Parthonopian Monarchy left Lunderfrau as the only true Monarchy on the continent. We now have a chance to change that.” Standing up the Kaiserin smiled and looked to the women gathered around her. “Expect three communiques to come from my desk before the day is through. I will have detailed instructions for each. Do what must be done in the meantime. The women nodded and the Kaiserin departed for her study.

An Official Statement From Her Majesty, Elise Von Strauss
Kaiserin of the Matriarchy of Lunderfrau and all its territories

It is no secret that over the past few weeks, events in Parthonopia have transpired that will certainly go down in history as a momentous occasion. The people of Lunderfrau and myself have quietly watched from afar as events have unfolded. We stay silent no longer. After careful consideration with my advisors, I believe it is time for all of Adia to put the Treaty of Oliviera and the pain it has caused behind us.Therefore, The Matriarchy of Lunderfrau hereby officially recognizes the Commonwealth of Parthonopia. I extend my support and well wishes to Prime Minister Friuli and Prince Carlo as they embark on this difficult road to unification.

Kind Regards,
Kaiserin Elise Von Strauss

To: Prime Minister Ignazio Victor Friuli
From: The desk of Her Majesty the Kaiserin of Lunderfrau
Subject: Support
Encryption:HIGH

Prime Minister, I must first congratulate you on your momentous achievements for Parthonopia and her people. However, these achievements do not come as a surprise considering they come from a man of such high caliber. I write to you to extend a hand of friendship but also to offer support. It is my understanding that while your forces are trained, they are still lacking the more refined skills of a professional Army. Tomorrow I will be speaking with my war room about sending a company of my finest soldiers, 200 in all, to Parthonopia to be used as you see fit. I assure you these are the best soldiers Lunderfrau can offer. Please think over my offer, I hope to here from you soon.

-Elise Von Strauss

To: King Carlo della Ancona
From: The desk of Her Majesty the Kaiserin of Lunderfrau
Subject: Meeting
Encryption: HIGH

I would very much like to meet the newly minted King of Parthonopia as soon as possible here in Lunderfrau. There are a variety of things that I need to discuss with you and only you. It has been far too long since Themyscira Palace hosted true royalty. I am happy to provide transportation and additional security in transit if need be. Please understand that this invitation only extends to you and not to the Prime Minister. I eagerly await your response.

-Elise Von Strauss

by **Chersonisos** » Fri Apr 07, 2017 9:09 pm

1:47 Local Time, 2/1/2017
Old Royal Palace, Centre Hall, Theodoisa, Chersonisos

Four men stand, huddled together in a dimly lit room around a round cherry table. Each man is dressed in fully military getup, medals and badges gleaming on their chest like beady eyes in the dim light. On the table lies a map of Adia, slightly tattered from years of neglect. On the map, several marks are visible, most notably a thick black border encompassing a group of territories now labeled "Parthonopia"

"About time we began to address this, isn't it?" murmurs one of the men in a low, gravelly voice. The navy-colored dress blues and naval insignias give away his position immediately; Grand Admiral Lambros. He sighs and grabs a bottle of milky-white liquid labled Ouzo, pouring out a meticulously small amount of the liquid into a glass that rests on the table. Three sets of eyes dart over to the perturbation on the otherwise static image, before simply returning down to the map as before.

"Technically, they are in violation of the Treaty of Olivera" murmured another one of the men, an olive drab jacket draped loosely over his shoulders. "Perhaps it would be best to simply stay back an..." his voice trails off as a set steel blue eyes furiously glare at him. "Captain Tautas! This is a situation not unlike our own!" roars the man standing opposite the other three. "Do you forget that less than a year ago, this was the very situation we found ourselves in!? Divided and isolated, surrounded by forces that wished to dominate us?!"

The three men huddled closer as if their combined masses could somehow help withstand the rolling wave of anger emanating from the other end of the table. "I risked my life, your lives, and the lives of a third of a million Chersonisoi to reunite our people from the yolks of oppressors!" His heaving motions made the name emblazoned on a patch more visible than before/ Kriezis

"Which is all the more reason to let them handle it themselves!" retorted the last man. "I understand your ideological underpinnings, but you were a rational man before and you must remain as such. Chersonisos lives and dies by the decisions we make now: how can we commit ourselves to a conflict against nations so much more established than us?" his calm murmur carries through the room whilst he swipes the glass out of Lambros' hands as he shakily attempts to take a sip.

"General Manos" Kriezis hufffed. "Now is not the time for us to redoubt ourselves on the foundations we laid ourselves on. This is a chance - nay, this is the chance that these people have to free themselves from foreign yoke." He rises, and the men retreat again "I've made my decision" he grunted, grabbing a pen and the bottle of Ouzo, taking a swig straight from the bottle as the other men filed out the door. Relieved at their exit, Kriezis traipsed over to his desk and slouched into the pathetic excuse for a chair. Pensively scanning the desk, he begins to write furiously, eyebrows furled and winks of doubt and hesitation glimmer behind the usually cool, confident eyes the Apolytos had become known for.

To:Prime Minister Ignacio of Firuli
From: Apolytos Kriezis of the Junta of Chersonisos
Subject: Support
Encryption: high

The honorable PM,
Let us be the first to welcome (and contact) your nation from ours. We know what it feels like to be placed under the yoke of those deemed threats to us, both internal and external. More importantly, it seems, we both are learning how to throw said yoke off. Although we cannot place our full military support, we offer you a gift - 300 12-kilogram TNT bombs, from the Revolution along with a contingent of 50 engineers and technicians to aid in the retrofitting process. We would also invite a representative of your nation to set up a charge d'affaires with ours - we are most interested in creating a stable, free Parthonopia, and will be more willing to provide extra support as our relationship grows.

- Apolytos Kriezis.

Risorgimento! Parthonopia is Reborn (Closed/IC/GO)

Risorgimento! Parthonopia is Reborn (Closed/IC/GO)

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