Palace of the Armed Forces, Capital of Veise
The White Kingdom of Veise
A war council in Veise drew near its conclusion. The table, headed by Prince Astre II as the King's representative, held many big names. The long-lived and wise Louis Chageroix, the Grand Baron of Bouclier, and the veteran General Leo Chageroix, and Renee Chageroix, the great head of the Black Spell Guard, all for example; indeed, the Chageroix held a great stake of the table's power. Many other Generals and great state elites held seats at this table as well.
They had passed through many topics already, but none were as peculiar as the topic of transportation. Neither of Veise's 'allies' were available to aid in transportation, and Veise was only volunteering and thus could not spare the air or sea power to transport itself. Several other odd ideas bounced around, but the group had finally and reluctantly settled on one idea that they would've never thought possible.
"Seeing as we lack options, and we will not forfeit our involvement, it is settled: this War Council agrees that the Kingdom of Veise's Expeditionary Force will seek commercial aid from the opportunistic neutral power of the Chuck in order to transport our two divisions, the auxiliary attachments, and our supplies," Astre announced in a booming, authoritative voice. "Any final objections?"
There were none, other than grunts of displeasure, sighs, and the sounds of fidgeting.
"The council is dismissed," Astre stated.
A small airship of Veiser commercial class rapidly had cruised all the way over to The Chuck and made a landing. Its cargo was a man with a message, a plain but well-dressed Veiser man in burgundy, carrying a metallic backpack. He took in the view and, for a moment, was quite distracted, but nevertheless carried on with his task. He strolled down the streets, ignoring how out-of-place he appeared in favor of haste and professionalism, and came upon a wide-open park. He took a few steps back.
He got a running start, and a pair of grappling hooks burst from his hips underneath his coat, and the claws of the hooks wrapped around a pair of street lights (to avoid damaging buildings). His flight suit kicked into gear, and the hooks launched him into the air like a slingshot. A pair of mechanical wings and a gas booster activated from his backpack, and within seconds the man was soaring above the streets. After a minute or two of flight, he set his boosters to reverse and slowed. Finding a good landing spit before the post office, he swung to the ground upon on a hook, and his gear all retracted. With much less flamboyance, he simply strolled into the building, deposited his letter, and left, finding a place to stay for a few hours before his flight home.
Within the letter, Veise was requesting the services of a Chuckian shipping company sympathetic to the Crusader cause, asking for it to discreetly and safely transport its two divisions and its half-division auxiliary attachment as well as several large shipments of supplies. It would require many, many ships, but the White Kingdom was a willing customer; though a wise one that would not be tricked.
