The Rone Conference (Closed, Attn Tyrrhenia)

[The Fanboyists]

Grimmeberger

It was fairly obvious Lintz disapproved of his 'speaking ill of the dead.' "I'm sorry. I know Emperor Wyatt was as good an emperor as Waldenburg has had in recent memory, and that by no means erases everything else he did for the country, though I'm afraid I never had the pleasure of meeting the man." After a moment, he added "So it will, I expect. But if we can, let's do our best to avoid that. No need to make things messier if it can be avoided."

Grimmeberger looked thoughtful. "Horenburg? I'll tell Field Marshal Hohenzorn about that, see what he can do. As I said, I believe Grahulm is probably going to get caught up in helping Imperial forces around Wissenholm. I ask no such transfer of you, unless you, for some reason, have an urge to fight alongside Allamunnae; I simply mean to see my people used as befits a proper ally, and not to be regarded as cannon-fodder. I'm afraid that, given their previous orders, our troops in Haaldstadten-Aachensboro may not be ready to move for another week, or so, in any case." As Lintz stood, Grimmeberger rose with him, and, after hearing what Lintz said, nodded. "I hope it does. And with any luck yes, I shall be seeing you again. Until then, best of luck. I suspect we'll all be needing it."

Not long after, sufficiently after Andrew and Amanda had wandered off to their tasks, Zoe practically skipped over to where Steven was sitting, in her cheerfully energetic way.

"Mr. Grimmeberger," she said sweetly "You've settled down some, it looks like." Steven couldn't help but smile back at the Princess as she made an observation most would consider insolent. Of course, it was a valuable skill to stay cool-headed, and even in his Army days, Grimmeberger had never been a stickler for formality.

"Yes, Zoe, I am. Now that I don't have that Yallakian blustering and declaring us idiots, it's quite easy." After a moment, he added "the cider helps, too. I'd offer to find you some, but I suspect your mother would be less than thrilled about me offering you alcohol," he said, indicating the bottle he had pulled out earlier. "Did you wander on up here to pass the time, or is your mother wanting to talk to me about something?" he said.

"Mom was wondering if she could start off with the floor, whenever the recess ends," she said. A moment's pause, and she grinned slyly. "And you're sure I can't try some?" she asked, her voice borderline sing-song. "I am past seventeen...I think," she added, taking on a look of concentration, "So it's not like it would be illegal for me to have some." Her sly smile changed to an innocent one. "Please?" She even threw in some melodramatic eyelash batting.

Steven shot her a look that said he had his doubts. He stood up from his chair and, sighing, stalked over to a chiller and dug out a bottle. "Drink it slowly. I'm sure your mother will find out how you got it anyway, but I won't have her blaming me for your drunkenness, young lady." Almost as an afterthought, he said "And mind how you pour it. It's not aerated, so you have to pour it from a little ways up to get it to be fizzy at all." He added "And remember to share. And I'll pass along your mother's request to Andrew and Amanda, and she should assume the answer is 'yes' unless I make a point of mentioning otherwise."

"Thanks, Mr. Grimmeberger. I'll let her know." Of course, she promptly sat at a nearby table and tried pouring the cider, holding the bottle low. Steven sighed.

"Higher than that, you heathen!"

[Yallak]

Myrcella looked to Carlyle again with suspicion and employing skills honed through years of work in the High Court of Yallak she spent several seconds assessing his stance and expression for even the barest hint of deceit or foul play. With none overly apparent she returned her attention back to the creased paper, a sick feeling rising in her stomach. If what was written on that little note was the truth, it would mean that everything Baelin had said to her was true and this conference had been nothing but a side puppet show to keep her distracted and inattentive to the greater stage performance. She didn't want to believe it, for it was completely absurd in the least, and yet it made so much sense. Far too much sense actually. Could I have really been that blind?

'I need a few moments,' proclaimed Myrcella abruptly, her hand once again back to fidgeting stressfully with the brilliant, azure sapphire that decorated the bottom of her neck. The tone of her voice was still harsh but had, at least for now, lost its violent edge. 'Excuse me.'

With a swish of her exquisite dress, Myrcella turned and began walking away from the Layslian. She didn't know where exactly she was going but knew she needed to be very alone and putting one foot ahead of the other in a continuous cycle didn't take her away from the conference hall fast enough.

A couple of minutes and many rooms and corridors later, Myrcella found herself stepping out into the frigid Allamunnic mountain air. The transition from heated interior to wintry breeze struck Myrcella like a train and without fitting attire for the cold conditions she was at natures mercy, or lack thereof. She began to shiver almost instantaneously as the warmth drained rapidly from her body but the shock served to snap her out of the brooding thoughts that plagued her mind; feelings of depression, anger and hopelessness that ravaged her mind became settled and the ill omens that had begun before arriving at the conference, and only multiplied since, seemed just a little bit clearer.

Forget the cold! she willed to herself, as she stood just outside the door under a very light snow fall, you're not going anywhere until you figure this out. Ok, good. Now, what are you going to do? Return to Yallak and have Sollonaal arrested...maybe, but you don't have any real proof that he's involved...he might be prepared for you to return too. Don't be naive, he suggested you come back, of course he's prepared! Maybe Baelin will know what do to? Maybe he's involved? Maybe he's not, that could be worse. Probably best you don't tell him anything until the conference is over. What then? Only one option left really......hmm I can't feel my toes any more.

_____________________________

'Do I understand?' responded Baelin to the Rodarion Menarci, as he ignored the Aarsindiin ambassador begin his obnoxious tirade, 'Of course I do, more than you might imagine. That is the one and only reason Yallak became involved in this whole affair and don't let these hypocrites tell you any different. The Empire has been nothing but earnest so far and they answer us with accusations of lying even while they spew forth fabricated nonsense and rumours they've heard while they were busy not being involved in this war themselves. They claim Imperialism on our part but their ignorance is as limitless as the universe itself. What is Waldenburg to us? A backwater of deserts and slums. That Tyrin...that is not worth the lives of good imperial citizens. But to see the power of the Waldenburger Catholic Church broken at last... I believe that is.'

Baelin realised that he had begun to start a rant of his own, but didn't care. He was fairly sure that the Rodarion's were in agreement with at least a large portion of his thoughts and even if they weren't he was too annoyed not to let it out. 'Some of these imbeciles might see that for themselves if they weren't so self-absorbed. They oppose us, not out of the interests of Waldenburg, but because they don't want us to obtain the apparent power they see Waldenburg as. If it was Waldenburg Prince versus Waldenburg Prince, do you think any of the people here would have raised a finger to aid Cato? I very much doubt it.'

'All things considered,' said Baelin finally, feeling an awful lot better, 'I think, out of all the representatives here, I like that one-armed Captain who shouted death threats at me the most. He's gutsy, honest and actually sounds half intelligent, a rare combination of traits in this room. All he's missing is the looks...and an arm of course...oh, and an eye too obviously.'

Baelin held up his hands in an apologetic gesture. 'But I digress. I have need to speak to you regarding the war and its current and future standing, yet I am certain that doing so while mingling in the middle of the Allamunnic States is not the best place to discuss such important information. Perhaps when this farce has concluded, you will allow us to fly you back to Rodarion? That should give us enough time.'

_____________________________

When Myrcella re-entered the conference building she felt numb all over, especially in the extremities of her fingers and toes, but she had a new mission to focus her thoughts on now and was mentally subduing all the feelings of pain, despair and failure that threatened to crush her under their weight. The Layslian, Carlyle, stood relatively in the same spot she had left him, only now he was facing the other direction and half-listening to the Aarsindiin delegate as he wrapped up his recess interrupting speech.

'Mr Carlyle,' said Myrcella quietly as she stopped, almost beside the Layslian. He turned to face her, a hint of curiosity revealed in his eyes. It would be hard for him to miss her doleful demeanour and the melting snow flakes that covered her chestnut hair did also likely not go unnoticed. 'I owe you an apology. I have allowed myself to be manipulated and misled and so I spoke in ignorance, I hope you can forgive me.'

Carlyle smiled at her, the genuinely pleasing smile that lit up his face and seemingly the world around him, the one Tyrrhenian leaders of the generation gone by knew so well. 'Well, Lady Myrcella, I am in no position to be proud and demanding. Your apology would be gratefully accepted, was there anything to forgive.' He nearly extended his hand as a course of habit, but remembered at the last minute and awkwardly clasped his hands behind his back.

'You are too kind,' said Myrcella with a slight bow of her head, though the words were delivered with an air of arch knowingness that revealed, if only a little, that she didn't actually believe he meant it.

If Carlyle picked up on it, he did not let on. 'And what happens next?'

Myrcella gave a faint smile. 'I finish what I came here to do.'

[The Fanboyists]

Filie

As Baelin had finished his discussion with the Menarci, Andrew had taken a position some distance back; far enough to avoid snooping on their conversation (if it was important...well, there would be other ways to find out what they said), but close enough to catch Baelin's attention when he turned back. Filie nodded to him and approached.

"High Lord. Things started off badly with that last proposal. I'd like to apologize for being an ass, and for not acting in good faith. I realize that this conference, and by extension, hopes of producing lasting peace, only have a chance of working if we can expect some measure of said good faith from all involved. So, I am sorry, and hopefully when we reconvene we can put a stop to mudslinging and try to accomplish some measure of peace in the region."

[Rodarion]

Tyrin Viktorda nodded to Baelin, he respected this man deeply as he did his nation. The Rodarian theocracy never forgets the support the Yallakian state gave to the Libraist Church during the civil war and its eventual victory over the Fascist regime prior to itself taking up governance. Most Rodarian clergymen believe a true debt is held to Yallak, without its money, ammunition and weapons they would never of destroyed the Fascist government and would never of allowed the Holy Father to govern the nation through them. And so Tyrin and the other major Cardinals and the Doci himself were eager to develop a good relationship with the Infinate Empire.

"Of course Baelin, I believe it is better that we can discuss things one to one in the private of the clouds rather than this cherade and peering ears. And the stench of Catholicism and its puppet fucks is rather overwhelming". Tyrin grew a dark grin and nodded at Baelin, hoping he would agree.

__________________________________________________

Atticus smiled at the queen, though he had come here not for small talk but for greater plans after the conference. "Yes Indeed but you will find that people in this room are all for one or nothing at all. It is indeed a dark day for this region and its people, but that is the corruptive power of Catholicism it is infecting everyone here - the Allumanae President is a Catholic Varke and has already attempted to destroy his own talks. But your majesty I have to speak to you about a proposal from Konstantine, we wish to hold diplomatic talks with you about the possible improvement of relations. His holiness the Doci wishes it dearly" Atticus smiled and grabbed his cigarette packet and took one and lit it with his Standard Cardinal Zippo, the Libraist Church orders specifically designed zippos for its Cardinals as 254 out of 260 smoke.

[Ossoria]

Tara was stunned at the Cardinal's statement. To say that Rodarion's Libraist theocratic government did not highly regard other religions was the understatement of the century, and Ossoria's henotheistic faith, so commonly and incorrectly considered polytheist, was among a group that was traditionally loathed by the Libraists. The fact that the Ossorians had snubbed many thousands of missionaries was not usually considered a point in their favor, despite the fact that many of them had been Catholic missionaries, the mortal enemy of Libraism. However, there was always a chance that something could come from this.

"It is not very often that one receives a personal invitation from the Doci," Tara said. "I'd be happy to discuss an improvement of relations between our two countries. Is there anything specifically that the Doci wishes to discuss or is it something that should not be discussed here?"

[Yallak]

'Excellent,' proclaimed Baelin. This was how diplomacy was meant to be done, as an honest exchange between people showing their true selves not the practised, politically correct, pretentious creations that most politicians wore over their own faces. 'It is sorted then. I'm not sure you will like all that I have to tell you, but we will have plenty of time to discuss it in comfort.'

Though he found the Menarci quite agreeable and would have been happy to spend the remainder of this loathsome conference sitting at the back with Tyrin and privately mocking the other attendees, Baelin knew that he would have to defer such amusement in favour of his duty to the Imperium. He gave the Menarci another shallow bow of his head. 'If you will excuse me in the meantime though Tyrin, there are other pressing concerns of state that I must attend to before the recess ends.'

After their farewells were completed, Baelin turned away for the Rodarion and sought out the next delegate on his 'to-do' list, one Tara Silven, High Queen of Ossoria. Before he could locate her however, his gaze fell upon the Allamunnic President and worse yet the man was clearly seeking his attention. Frak...don't come over here...don't you dare.....oh, oh yes, how joyous, you're coming over here....

'President Filie,' said Baelin sweetly, flashing a depreciating smile, as the Allamunnic leader stopped in front of him. As of yet he was not sure whether he hated or only disliked the conference's host, but had the feeling that he would know the answer by the end of the coming conversation.

'High Lord,' began Filie, and Baelin prepared to hear, and subsequently shoot down, some flustered spiel about putting aside personal differences to save the lives of innocent people in Waldenburg. When it was instead an apology that he received, he was almost taken aback and settled for simply hearing the man out.

'The interesting thing about apologies,' responded Baelin, in a pleasant but strong tone, when Filie was finished, 'is that they are essentially meaningless. Unlike a lot of actions, the spoken word, once expelled from the lips, can never be unsaid. And people rarely say things they don't mean.'

Noticing that Filie seemed uncomfortable with the direction his words seemed to be heading, Baelin continued with a little less drama. 'But your intention is well received. In the future though, perhaps you will not be so hasty with your choice of words. No one should have to apologise for speaking their mind.'

[Rodarion]

Atticus smiled at the Queen, her response was expected. Atticus quickly cleared his throat and began to explain the sudden change of play from Rodarion.

"Well your Majesty you must understand, in this hostile climate that we live in, things have to change, countries must adapt. And you know know.. as well as I do.. Rodarion is short of.... friends if you will. And so Rodarion has been forced to chang its view on nations of this region, especially the High Kingdom of Ossoria. You see Rodarion sees the region through its threats. Mykola, Cvkarica, the Dadakhoi Confederation ecetera are those who percieve as a threat. Mykola especially as its talents for deception and manipulation know no bounds, my point is your Majesty is that Rodarion has recognised your importance in northern Levantia, especially as you keep Mykola out. On that basis, his Holiness the Doci would like to invite both your government to talks on a bilateral basis and invite your government to talks with the Kyrian government over the situation developing in Woodsted". Atticus smiled again and took a deep breath to catch the air he lost in that long explanation.

Tyrin looked around and realised he was surrounded by heathens not worth mentioning, he sighed and walked over towards Atticus, smiling at him and bowing his head to Queen Tara.

"Oh your Majesty, this is his eminence the Menarci" Atticus was quick to introduce his superior. Clearing his throat yet again he quickly grabbed his third glass champaigne from the passing servant.

[Waldenburg 2]

A third Cosmopolitan had appeared in Lintz's hand by an intuitive and well tipped waiter, as the Captain strode purposefully across the room to a side table where he flopped down and began to pen a letter for the Mykolan delegates. Lintz was just wondering if 'perfidious' would complement 'whores' when a waiter hove into view carrying on a silver tray a small phone.

"Your Excellency, a Rupert Fry to speak with you."

"He managed to dislodged his face from a cake long enough to utter a coherent sentence? Wonderful. Progress." Lintz took the phone, "This is Lintz. I...." There was a babble of lightning fast speech from the other end as Lintz held the receiver away from his ear. "Rupert? You can't be serious.... how?"

Rupert Fry was usually a conscientious man, ruled by logic and a firm belief that doughnuts could solve most of the world, let alone, his own personal problem. Ever since he had made the acquaintanceship of a certain Yallakian operative he was more prone to feverish babbling and wild eye declarations. And silverware sticking to him. Even with a soup spoon clinging to his arm, he was one of the better ministers at disposal of any government.

"I will not! Those loathsome bastards supplant...." Rupert Fry screamed so loudly on the other end that the cosmopolitan wavered in its glass. "Rupert... we said no concessions... Well no but we must consider that.... RUPERT! What? Where is...? How, he was hundreds of miles away? But Scant must still be taken." There was a lull as Rupert Fry suddenly began to whisper, as if someone was right behind him. Probably the case, at least in his head. "I will, but this feels an awful lot like we are selling out..... Right, right. Toss off." The phone was clicked off, and lovingly tossed against the opposite wall where it bounced and rolled onto the floor.

A new note was penned, in a careful script that required, it seemed, the author to painstakingly choose every-word.

Your Excellency,

It has come to my attention that His Highness Prince Cato has rendezvoused with the Blomburger 6th Army Group and in concert with the Imperial Free Army, the Empirian Fleet, and the allies gathered in Paloni begin an all out assault upon the Yallakians in the Südkreis; and by the end of the month enter Waldenburg proper.

Recently, by communication with our foreign minister, I have been lead to understand and conceive of the [i]state of affairs as they are at present. In light of such information it has been conveyed to me to offer the Throne and Crown of Arnsland to the Emperor Frederick once the current situation has resolved itself, of course in addition to the future political formations of which have been previously discussed. It is our express view that an offensive at this time, in conjunction with the operations in the Südkreis our mutual enemy may be weakened; especially in concurrence with global events. At any rate, I have been instructed to remain entirely at your disposal for the remainder of this conference.

Lintz[/i]

"Take this," Lintz seemed to attract waiters like manure flies, "To the Mykolan pontz and be quick about it, or you can't make my next drink." He sipped from his glass, "I'm thinking Shirley Temple."

[Ossoria]

"Very well, I shall accept your invitation," Tara said.

She had no illusions that her responses, while genuinely accepted favorably by the Cardinal, were far from how the Rodarion cleric predicted she would respond. It was little secret that the Ossorian Monarchy had mellowed after nearly three hundred years from their more direct and unilateral approach to foreign policy. Nowadays, the Silven Monarchs seemed to value peace and prosperity for their realm, and were therefore more disposed to prefer the use diplomacy, international agreements and treaties to solve international disputes than most other nations in Tyrhennia, a fact that was demonstrated in part by their refusal to take part in the great conflagration that had consumed the Waldenburg Empire.

When the Menarci approached, Tara was caught slightly off-guard due to the Menarci's approach having been screened by several other passing diplomats, stewards, and aides, as well as the Menarci having approached from off to one side, where neither she nor her aide in charge of providing her with various delegate's names were able to see him until he was upon them. The sudden appearance caused her aide to have to hurriedly catch up to his duty following the Cardinal's introduction, which made the normally smooth process come off rather sloppy, for which Tara was momentarily embarrassed.

After a noticeable time had passed, she nodded to the Menarci in greeting, hoping to salvage something from the bungled introduction. "Greetings, Menarci Tyrin. I was just talking about planning a future meeting between our countries to discuss items of mutual interest."

[Laysley]

Richard Carlyle was the last Carlyle. Since 1658 until 2010, the Carlyle family, with a brief interruption in the 1850s, had ruled Laysley - originally as a result of the leadership of the first Carlyle, the leader of the revolution and father of the nation, then from a combination of competence, tradition and the fact that no one could ever agree on anyone different. Richard had been deposed by the velvet revolution, despite being one of the most charismatic and effective of his ancestors in history; he was just there with the wrong mindset at the wrong time.

He was always saddened by the idea he was the last of his dynasty, with only a small chance of regaining any sort of power and even less of achieving anything like the glories of some of his earlier incarnations. Yet, there was perhaps one chance to do something that none of his forefathers had.

“I’m sure whatever it is” Carlyle replied, suddenly disconcertingly neutral in tone and facial expression “You have more noble motivations than your rivals. But please, just one more inconvenient interruption of your schedule.”

Myrcella stared at him with a sudden frown. The corners of Carlyle’s mouth lifted ever so slightly.

“I want to address the Imperial Senate. Our nations cannot co-exist fruitfully without some concessions from the both of us, even if yours is only giving up a little racism in the interests of peace.”

[Yallak]

'Wait...' stammered Myrcella.

The State Commander was astounded to say the least. She couldn’t possibly allow Carlyle into a Senate session, could she?

'But...'

To her recollection, no-one outside the Empire had ever been permitted to do so. It was an honour reserved for the most important occasions.

'You what?'

She could arrange it of course, but was it wise. Could anything be gained? There was certainly a lot that could be lost. She wondered if he understood that, but could not tell from looking as he maintained his neutral expression.

'No-one will know the truth,' declared Myrcella, regaining her strong but friendly composure, 'and you cannot tell them. They wouldn't believe you even if you did. I cannot help you do that either, so if this is your intention then you had best cast it aside.'

Myrcella took in a deep breath and sighed quietly. 'The is a risk that this will end poorly for the both of us, I don't know what is really going on back in Arrandin, but if you are prepared to accept that then I will take you to the Senate after the conference ends. Whether or not they will let you speak is outside my control.'

[The Fanboyists]

Filie

"I'm glad for that. I think it will be soon that we will be reconvening, in fact, so I'd best go to take care of that. Thanks for hearing me out." He turned and started to walk away, but, before he got too far, turned his head back over his shoulder. He added "Now let's get this shit done." After he'd moved far enough, he called upon an aide. When they had arrived, he gave the instruction to pass the word to the various delegations that the conference would be resuming at the beginning of the following hour.

He made his way back to his seat, and waited idly as he watched the various delegates wander into the room. They were fairly prompt; most of the delegates had reentered the room and were making their way back to their seats as the clock struck, and Amanda had already taken the gavel from him. Grimmeberger had taken his seat back, and had pulled out a second bottle of cider, which managed to get an eye-roll out of Filie.

"Steven, put that away. What would Thomas say?" Andrew liked to invoke Thomas Filie, the Federation's founder and his great-grandfather, whenever he caught his predecessor doing something undignified. For his part, Grimmeberger looked miffed.

"Piss on 'em from a dizzy height. I ain't in charge anymore. That's your job, and I intend to enjoy the benefits of having that yoke firmly on the shoulders of someone else. Now. Do your job, birdie." Steven had often firmly enjoyed referring to various Filie's as 'birdie' in reference to the family's symbol: a red-and-gold falcon.

"That's on Amanda. She wanted cooler heads to prevail, so she's taking a tur--"

He was cut off by loud rapping of the gavel. The Chancellor had stood to speak to the assembled delegates. "At this time, the Conference will reconvene. Now, we have been approached with a request for the floor from the Empiratian delegation. They shall start with the floor at this time."

[Rodarion]

Tyrin bowed his head towards the Ossorian Queen, he in contrast to herself knew exactly who she was and the correct term to address her with, her lack of respect with the use of 'your Eminence' when addressing a member of the Libraist clergy was overlooked as it was expected from this inexperienced stateswoman.

"Ah yes I hoped as much, being Rodarion's second in Government I would be responsible for cementing any arrangement. I believe it would be suitable for you or any key Ossorian official to come to Konstantine, we do have certainly a lot to discuss, especially to the growing rumblings of Mykola in regards to Woodsted, it is with great trepidation that see the hun wishing to expanding even further, they truly are a stain on humanity" Viktorda spurred on, hoping to draw a similar comment from the Queen, but his hopes were not high.

Atticus smiled and withdrew several folders from his briefcase and handed them to the Queen's aid, the folders contained arrangements for a three day visit for the Queen to Rodarion, with all areas respected for her stay.

[Ossoria]

Tara's aide put the folders into a briefcase as the High Queen spoke, "Mykola's expected intrusion into Woodsted is a cause of some concern, however we have yet to see them make a definitive move towards the area. However, it would not be outside the realm of what we would expect should we discover that the situation has changed. One thing that is certain is that the power balance in Levantia is more complicated than in some other areas of Tyrrhenia, and we can ill-afford to allow the balance to be significantly altered so close to our shores. Fortunately, there are a few factors in the specific issue of Woodsted that may well tip the balance in our favor."

Specifically, Tara was referencing the Ossorian Commonwealth, a collection of states under Ossorian protection and varying degrees of influence, many of whom had once been conquered states of the High Kingdom's former Empire. In fact, part of Tara's reason for personally attending the Conference was to represent the interests of two member states; the Duchy of Krune, a state of just under 7 million people which had the misfortune of being the closest Ossorian protectorate to the fighting in Waldenburg, and the Free City of Quillion, a city of just over 20 million people which had distance from the conflict but was completely unable to support itself without outside assistance.

The Commonwealth had been established out of necessity; the conquered states wanted to restore their independence to varying degrees, but were militarily unable to stand up to more powerful states such as Mykola if they cut ties with Ossoria completely, and Ossoria wanted to maintain its influence on the area of North Levantia with a minimum of bloodshed. The Commonwealth arrangement granted as much independence to those states desired, granted Ossoria military basing and staging rights inside their countries, and bound Ossoria to come to their protection should they ever be threatened by an external power, and though they were not required to reciprocate in the event that Ossoria went to war, several of them would do so anyway out of a sense of honor.

"Is there anything else that we need to discuss?" Tara asked. "If not, I'm certain that I shall see you both in Rodarion after the conference is concluded."