The Season Turns (Telegram for Entry please)

by **Cacerta** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 12:05 pm

Davion Citadel
Fumicino, Lombardo, The Kingdom of Cacerta
As always, once the Davion Family had found out the Queen was in Fumicino, they made accommodations for her in their grand citadel near the Royal Navy's headquarters building. It was a monolith of a structure, black against the bright skyline above and dark blue waters below. It offered an impressive view of the city and -- as Fumicino's tallest building -- one could rise above the towering buildings around it. The Queen looked across the ocean from the window in her room, arms folded and brow furrowed in deep concentration.

Her hair and body were wet, she was fresh out of the shower -- which was still running -- and too distracted to think on one thing or the next. Her sister came up behind her with a towel, "Dry yourself off, Sis. Or else you'll catch a cold." Arianna retreated into the bathroom to shut off the water, "The Grand Admiral is right, you know. It's dangerous. I know you love Mara, but it would be devastating to the Kingdom if anything were to happen to you. Again."

Despite how much she hated to admit it, Arianna was indeed right. Under Damien, Cacerta had been in a virtual stand-still -- stunned into inaction by the very idea of the Queen being usurped. So much stock was put into the Crown and the people believed in her so much. Perhaps too much.

There was a knock on the door upon which Anelyn responded.

A number of her close advisers came in through the door, among them were Henrietta and Mila -- whom she had intentionally left in Vichenza. Silence followed where Mila sat down by the bed and Henrietta made her way towards the Queen, "Your Highness, I know you hate it when I lecture, but you must inform us when you have the intentions of leaving the capital. Remember what we talked about after the coup? Your safety means more than you might think."

"I know."

Henrietta let out a sigh, "Ok, well, now that that's out of the way, we can discuss what your intentions were." The Prime Minister signaled Mila to come over. "I understand that you want to attend Perrin's funeral, but it may not be best for you to do so. We have embassies and ambassadors for that." Mila handed Henrietta a folder. "Factions are moving, Your Highness, and this is not a time for you to be in the Allied States. Queen Mara is important to you, we all know, but we cannot act rashly. The situation in New Edom is a powder keg and if we make one wrong move, the consequences would be horrendous."

"Let Alessandra talk with who we know in the Allied States," Mila said, "and give my agents more time, Your Highness. There is still a considerable amount of work to be done before we can even do anything. Henrietta and I have talked with Elettra and she will withhold the fleets until we have word. Do you agree with that, Your Highness."

Anelyn sighed. "Very well. You have my consent. We'll hold the fleets and let your agency do its job, Milena."

Arianna, Henrietta, and Mila released the tension in their shoulders. For now, they had been successful in averting a crisis. "Thank you, Your Majesty." The Prime Minister and Chief of International Intelligence made respectful bows. "We will remain in Fumicino for your convenience, Your Highness, Elettra has made the proper arrangements."

by **New Edom** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 1:20 pm

Fineberg, New Edom

Josefina always a bookworm, had never really been the demonstrator type. But she was now. She was upset. The news of the cabinet appointments had flown round the city and apparently went viral on the internet--mostly in the heavily urbanized areas where people had regular access to it. She was angry too...in the wake of the President's death, so many deaths, her fiance now dead too...to do this! To appoint a bunch of aristocrats and royals to the provisional government, including some old dust bottle no one even remembered! And where was Queen Mara? She would never have allowed this, everyone knew the young Queen was prostrate with grief over the losses.

At first hundreds gathered--students, church groups, workers groups--fearing for their rights. Was it not the Monarchists who had fired tear gas and rubber bullets at people just for striking to have the nation accept international health and safety standards, allow them unions? Now they would take it all back, force them to work for whatever companies wanted, foreigners leeching them like vampires.

Josefina and her friends were swamped in a sea of people soon as they gathered to move to Victory Square, Betharan Palace and the Cathedral to protest. Many of them were wearing little more than paint or were, like Josefina just bare.

Here and there she saw things getting a bit out of hand though. As they were singing the 63rd Psalm she smelled smoke, and rumours flew that clothing shops were being looted, the wares burned in oil barrels while the employees were forced to strip. Advertisements for foreign bathing suits were being smeared with red paint that said "this is the blood of the workers and believers in the Cross".

Josefina's crowd moved, shuffling and walking, and were now chanting, in response to someone with a megaphone who was shouting,
"What do we want?"
"ELECTIONS!"
"When do we want them?"
"NOW!"
"Who are we?"
"THE FAITHFUL!"
"What do we want?"
"ELECTIONS!"

Elder Brother Anacreon, one of the demo leaders spoke into a megaphone. "If we have national elections they will see that it is the Free Congress who dominate in Bara Province, and they are afraid of that! Where in this new government is Colleen Fish, Elizabeth Corbulo? Why can we not have Father William back if we must have a provisional government, not some old fossil who we never remembered? Why can we not have Sarah Carmel, Sif Finnhald back? And who killed John Kohath? Give us our rightful leaders!"

Jocasta was having a massage after being ruthlessly worked out by her beloved friend Camilla, who was all dreamy and giggling talking about her wonderful husband and the DARLING DOGGY that she had been given, both of them lying on tables, having been steamed, washed, swum after a grueling tennis match, before another round of endless meetings today. She liked having her legs and thighs deeply massaged, she liked being thoroughly oiled with scents like roses or ginger, her curvy young rump kneaded entirely and she would drift and dream.

One day she would have a handsome husband, a soldier or naval officer by training, who looked smart in uniform and was bold, made her feel deliciously feminine and yet respected her divine right to rule. She sighed as her masseuse kneaded, spread, dug, stretched, and turned over dreamily as she was requested to.

"....that will do...let me relax for a bit," she waved the woman away. A deaf mute but they could read lips sometimes.

"Anyway it is starting to be enjoyable really," said Camilla. "I even encourage him, and he's so grateful" she giggled, "Imagine it, so grateful that I welcome him, encourage him. It's rather nice, and you can even get a bit of exercise if you do it vigorously. My maid told me some naughty things to say..."

Delphinia burst into the room and knelt.

"Don't you knock? What is it?" Jocasta said, annoyed.

"Highness, there is a mob coming towards the Palace!" Delphinia said face pale. "Colonel Josephus told me it is an emergency!"

Jocasta sat up. She stared at Camilla, who stared back.

"...Mr. Misabel, are you saying you cannot control this crowd?" Colonel Josephus was saying tersely.

"No, Colonel, I am informing you that we are controlling it. There is some looting and damage to public property going on, but we're sending people to deal with that. However most of it is a political demonstration. They are behaving in a peaceful manner overall. I am recommending that we hear their grievances and receive deputations..."

"But they are coming towards thee Palace! Very well, you do what you must, but you will hear back from me," snapped Josephus. He called his father as well, and General Josephus informed him that he was already waiting for a response from the Military District of Fineberg. Currrently apart from the Cavalry Guards detachment at the Palace, there was an Air Force unit at the base as well as naval units, engineers, miltiary police and the 9th Marine Infantry Regiment.

He had just put the phone down when chaos broke around them. He had the Queen Dowager, looking brittle, in shock, wearing a long pink and green gown, holding one of her Bichon Frise's in her hands and stammering nonsense; he had Countess Jabbok holding her arm, tears shimmering in her eyes stammering, "It's happening again..." he had Dr. Aphek at least being very calm and guiding the Dowager to a seat, and had...God in Heaven...

Jocasta and Camilla, wearing only towels running into the room, maids trailing after. Jocasta's very self seemed to want to defy any towel, one side bare and flashing hip and side of jiggling bosom, which the towel barely contained, her eyes wide and frantic, hair wet and wild .

"I..." he said. He honestly couldn't think of a thing to say.

"Oh my gosh, do we evacuate? What do we do? Why are they so angry? What do they want? What is going on, can someone find out?" Jocasta cried at him. "Where is the cabinet?"

"I am afraid that I and Captain Cotta are the only ones properly appointed who are here, Highness," said Dr. Aphek, rising calmly from where he had been comforting the Dowager and gently adjusting Jocasta's towel for her. Josephus cursed him under his breath but felt bad about how he felt.

Count Falk, commander of the Royal Guard, came in, in parade dress, cap under his arm, and bowed. He looked bad--dark circles under his eyes, cheeks hollow, reeking strongly of mint, and said, "Highness, I have issued riot gear to the Cavalry Guards' 3rd and 4th Troops. They will be ready to help secure entrances and exits. I have also contacted Fineberg Military District; three Lakotas are on the way."

Jocasta calmed herself quickly, holding her towel; Camilla wasn't doing as well; she suddenly screamed, "I have to contact my husband, he'll help--" and was cut off by Jocasta cracking her one across the face. Then she held her shoulders and whispered, "Sorry dear heart, but you were shouting. Calm down." she turned to Count Falk and said in a regal manner at odds with her attire, "Thank you, my dear Count. Will you remain here so that any reports are given quickly to me?"

He bowed deeply and swayed a moment. "As Your Highness commands."

Jocasta said to Delphinia, "Set up a screen for Camilla and I to change, and fetch our favourite church gowns. Camilla...sweetheart calm your husband, yes, when you are calm. And Dr. Aphek, would you please speak to the Shalumite Ambassador for me, and find out if it would be appropriate to ask for help if...our own forces here are not entirely loyal?" She sniffed, choked a bit but looked at him bravely.

Dr. Aphek bowed, his eyes dark upon her, and said, "Of course."

Camilla found it hard to obey her instructions, but she did. She was a Sharra, after all; her ancestors had hunted Griffons on horseback with javelins. Her ancestress Eva had been hung by the Cornellians and had gone to the scaffold saying, "I would ratther be dead than share the air with the likes of you." She told her husband over the phone that she was safe but that there was some concern and that Dr. Aphek would contact his ambassador. She gave him her love, and whispered into the phone, "I have come to love saying that to you. Whatever happens in future, my darling..thank you for our life together."

As Dr. Aphek was getting off the phone with the Shalumite Ambassador, Count Falk turned off his phone and said, "I have just been informed that the mob have surrounded the Cathedral, and demand that funerary rites be done by them and not by the Head of State. They claim the president and cabinet for themselves, and say that the Heir has no part in it."

by **New Edom** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 1:50 pm

Sixington, Gloria Regis

It started as such things often did--over something insignificant. Aboard Carrier Teman, refitting after over a year of sea duty in Hutanjia dealing with the rebellion there, a scandal had broken out. There was apparently a market in some foreign nations for nudist or voyeur pornography. A little cabal of enterprising warrant officers and sailors had installed hidden cameras in various locations where female personnel could be seen showering, working out, and relaxing. There was nearly ten minutes for instance of Junior Lieutenant Cordelia Avens lying on her bunk on her front with her legs spread, the lovely Cornellian pilot was a favourite apparently, the site they had uploaded her to had many hits. Another favourite were several women from the "Black Gang" of the engineering division horsing around in the shower. What was especially mortifying was that it had been going on for months--including when they were fighting in Hutanjia.

While Captain Nathan Ziba, the commander of the ship, a rather bold and steady officer, had during th initial inquiries stated that he felt it was disgusting to treat comrades so, he had apparently made an off the cuff remark to Commander Rabhan Amnon, his Executive Officer, in the hearing of some other officers: "This is unfortunately what comes of having women in the active service in the Navy."

What he meant by this was not known. What happened as a result was. Initially, Commander Clytemnestra Hortensius, the Weapons Division Officer, had simply been angry. She had held in her anger for years, had been told she took things too personally, had gritted her teeth when the Feminist poltical parties were crushed, had put up with what she felt were patronizing and sexuaizing remarks. Now she could take no more, and had at first simply wanted to go out in a moment of fury, make them feel afraid and worried for a moment. But then it hit her.

They were right in a province where Feminist sympathies ran high. For years, Shrailleeni, Deadoran Ali-Zebu and Anathaat influence had been at work in this province more than any other, with little competition beyond sympathetic communists for activism and humanitarian work. There were, she had heard many Feminist leaders still mysteriously vanished. The words came to her mind: Seize the ship.

And in the Navy, because it was a very technical service there were enough women, enough men who secretly harboured Matriarchal thoughts in rebellion, feared the anti-homosexual purges. There were enough. She organized the right watches stealthily, and then it was that Captain Ziba awoke that morning from a late watch the previous night dealing with a nuclear plant drill to find Hortensius and several others in his stateroom with pistols and riot guns.

"What...what is this? What is going on?" he demanded, sitting up, his hairy greying chest and still hard belly exposed as the sheet fell away.

"Captain in the name of the freedom of women and the men who love them, i am placing you under arrest," Hortensius said sternly. "It is no good arguing. The oppressed will be freed. Take him."

"You will swing for this...Hortensius. I will never again speak your rank," he said in a cold but shaking voice, shocked.

It came as a shock to everyone--though few knew it had happened yet. All over the carrier her watch arrested or coopted people. It was time. They would seize the ship, she had spoken to others of her sisters on other vessels. There were flares of violence but it went surprisingly swiftly--they were after all dealing with a highly organized set of people who were used to following orders and were used to things going by routine. She was stunned by her success--the Teman and five other vessels quickly fell to the mutiny, which had been stoking for some time. It did not hurt that many in this squadron had affected families in Gloria Regis, their home port. What Hesperinus had done to the Street of Tears outraged them. Cain's contempt for the Navy had outraged them. It was time.

On one destroyer, the Joab, there was a struggle though. What had happened was a supposed sister had betrayed them, advised the Master-at-Arms that a mutiny was taking place, and apparently a small cabal of officers loyal to the state, probably Monarchists or Free Congress, had countered the mutineers, and they were fighting now for control of the ship.

Hortensius, acting swifty, sent two helicopters with loyal friends to the Naval Air Station to control the communications. It was beginning, but hopefully it would be over before Hesperinus rolled his simian body out of his luxurious bed in the Palace of the Governor...

by **Arbites** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 3:08 pm

Chambers of the Holy Curia
Magus Civitas, Imperium of Arbites Materia

The pewter, unblinking eyes of the saints stared down upon the Cardinals as the last of them shuffled into the room. The lights were dimmed slightly, illuminating each chair of the Curia in their chambers, their gilded coating glinting in the light until each of the leaders of the Magi faith took their seats. Eventually the lighting shifted to Cardinal Dawes, shuffling along, an acolyte discreetly wheeling his oxygen tank behind him as the old man removed the tube from his nose and approached a pulpit at the center of the room to convene the Curia.

A spiritu sancti,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lighting and the tempest,
Our Emperor, deliver us,
From plague, temptation and war,
Our Emperor, deliver us,
From the scourge of corruption,
Our Emperor, deliver us

"His Will be done," the rest of the chamber concluded. Dawes plodded back to his seat, reinserting the oxygen tube with some relief. Cardinal Robertson was the first to speak, using the microphone at his seat, Remus sitting obediently behind him like the rest of the Cardinals' acolytes.

"Brothers," Robertson said in a clear voice, "As you all know, we have convened to discuss New Edom. President of the Council Perrin Pahath-Moab has passed, along with most of his government. Our alliance with New Edom was in many ways dependent on the character of its leadership. Pahath-Moab represented stability, security, and firm commitment against the chaos of international communism. He was not swayed or cowed by the empty promises of heretics and feminists. With him gone, we must work to reestablish ourselves as an Edomite ally."

"Pahath-Moab and his countrymen are heathens, unbelievers," a younger Cardinal, Urban, piped up. "The Emperor has rendered judgement: Pahath-Moab and his Cabinet were smote as a warning to us. It is well that sinners and faithful alike fear the Emperor's wrath."

Robertson looked over at Urban, still with a full head of hair, only a deep pair of laugh lines, a fire in his eyes and his belly. "What do you propose, Brother?"

"New Edom must be judged. They must accept the Emperor's Light, or we should have no more to do with them," he said, addressing Robertson. He then turned to address the room. "Cults and pagan worship abound in New Edom. Their indecent way of life is sinful, as is the decadence of their nobility. The death of Pahath-Moab is a sign, a sign that we must end our complacency and spread His word. Should they resist, then it shall be made clear our alliance was of unsound foundation all along."

The Curia was stoic in response, though the lack of condemnation was in a way damning in of itself. Robertson looked on serenely. "I praise your piety, Brother. The Imperium is founded upon faith, and we must never neglect the duty He bestowed upon us," Robertson said. "There is an account I wish to share with you, however. One of our own was present at the Fineberg Olympic Stadium. Ambassador to New Edom Jacob Lee was standing alongside Pahath-Moab and his entire Cabinet."

"Then the Emperor has clearly voiced his displeasure--" Urban interrupted.

"Brother, with respect, I was not finished," Robertson said, glaring at him coldly. Urban seemed to hesitate for just a moment. "Our Ambassador lives. Had the Emperor truly meant this as a means of humbling His servants, would Ambassador Lee have been spared?"

"Your Excellency, the deaths of Pahath-Moab--" Urban pressed despite the risks of crossing Robertson.

"And you surprise me, Brother, in so quickly assuming Pahath-Moab's death was a form of punishment. This world is one of temptation, of sin, of suffering. The Ruinous Powers hold sway in this realm despite His return and our tireless efforts. Pahath-Moab did much good in the world. It is written that just unbelievers will behold their true God when the time comes. You claim the Emperor sought to punish Pahath-Moab, but is it not possible that the Emperor's hand is on the man's shoulder now?"

Before Urban could respond, however, there was an interruption, a clamor as the chamber's doors were opened noisily. It was High Inquisitor Ortega, who, upon entering, dropped upon one knee. "My lords, a thousand apologies for interrupting, but our embassy claims there are mobs moving through Fineberg towards Betharan Palace."

The chamber stirred, Urban looking from side to side with a furrowed brow. Robertson looked calm. "You see, Brother? Without him, we see the forces of Chaos on the march once more. We must move swiftly to ensure the survival of the nation. We face the loss of a trading partner, a fellow FODE member, and an ally in the CPO. The Imperium overcomes, and we are the Imperium."

To: Office of the Foreign Minister, Betharan Palace Chief of Security
From: Ambassador Lee
Subject: Violence
Encryption: Highest

Please forgive the late arrival of this communication, as personal events have regrettably interfered with my duty. I thank the Queen Dowager for her kind words. The world is truly a lesser place without Perrin Pahath-Moab, the loyal soldier of New Edom to the end. Our prayers are with the victims' loved ones.

I meant to compose this communique to inquire about matter related to FODE, Dengali, and the office of Director of Peacekeeping Operations for the CPO, however, more pressing matters have emerged. Embassy staff have noticed mobs moving through the streets of Fineberg chanting anti-monarchist slogans and voicing grievances over funeral arrangements of the President.

We would like to assure you that the alliance between our two nations is intact, and we would like to offer military support in securing key areas of the country in the event this boils over into full-blown civil unrest. This includes the capital, power plants, bases, and major economic hubs such as manufacturing centers and oilfields. Forces can reach New Edom from East Klamath by the end of today.

Know that the Emperor is still with you, and so are His faithful. Also know that the President and the victims of this tragedy are in a better place.

By His Will,
Ambassador Lee

by **Cacerta** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 3:31 pm

HMS Isara Trento (BB-EE-007), 3rd Amphibious Strike Fleet
North-Northwest of Fumicino, The Kingdom of Cacerta
The order to depart through the Straits towards New Edom had come quickly, if not unexpectedly. Rear Admiral Jessica Trento had been in her battleships action information center when the telegram came through. She immediately ordered the fleet northwest and plotted the fastest possible course to the Allied States. The crew asked no questions -- she had been keeping them informed on the situation and it appeared that it was time to make good on the Treaty of Padan.

Her 3rd Amphibious Fleet was to hold outside of the New Edomite EEZ while a formal communique, conducted by Minister of Foreign Affairs Alessandra Moretti, was devised. As such, her ships would be there to provide aid to the displaced and refugees, they would only deploy units from the Assault Division if given express permission from the Grand Admiral. Violence may have broke out in New Edom, but putting boots on the ground without permission could easily push things out of control.

At the head of the fleet, the Isara completed her turn and with that, Jessica ordered, "All ahead full."

Davion Citadel
Fumicino, Lombard, The Kingdom of Cacerta
Minister Alessandra was sitting at the desk given to her by the Davions in only a pair of sweatpants. She had been going through her Pilates routine when Mila had come into her room with the news of riots in Fineberg. As awful as it sounded, she was not surprised -- to her it had only been a matter of time before something happened. On behalf of the Queen, it was her job to communicate directly with the New Edomite government and to inform them of their intentions.

The Grand Admiral had already sent out a telegram to a nearby fleet to move towards the Allied States. It was clear that civil unrest following Pahath-Moab's death had finally come and Cacerta had a role to play, for better or for worse.

Il Regno Di Cacerta
Ministero degli Affari Esteri

To: Elizabeth Corbulo, Undersecretary for Cornellia
From: Alessandra Moretti, Minister of Foreign Affairs
Subject: Offer of Assistance
Most Respected Madam,

It has come to the attention of the government of the Cacertian Crown that riots have broken out in Fineberg. On behalf of the Queen and her staff, I am to inform you that the Kingdom is willing to provide assistance where needed. One of our fleets has been re-directed towards New Edom, however, I am told it will take several days before they arrive.

This is a dark hour and the people of Cacerta stand by you.

May the Wise Wolf protect,
Alessandra Moretti,
Minister of Foreign Affairs

by **Vyrsar** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 4:26 pm

Reichstag, Zürich, Saschsen-Anhalt, Vyrsar

"Wenn wir nicht handeln jetzt-"

"Was würden Sie empfehlen wir dann tun? Einzudringen? Besetzen Sie?"

"Was ich vorschlage, ist, dass etwas getan werden, um die Situation unter Kontrolle zu nehmen sollten Dinge zu Grunde gehen."

The conversation went back and forth, the Council indecisive on what to do with the recent events that had befallen Southern Acheron. On a 254cm LED flatscreen at the end of the conference room, a continuing news reel played, displaying the cleanup of the disaster from New Edom. No tears were shed among anyone. What had happened in New Edom had shocked them, sure, but to stay that way and to grieve over the loss of those who had been killed would have been ridiculous. Nor had they expected tears. The Adenauer Administration had opted from grieving for the dead- there were more prudent things for the Council to discuss. The conversation thus far, however, had quite frankly done nothing but annoy Adenauer, who sat at the head on the far end of the long table opposite the flatscreen. And she was in a more irritable mood that particular day.

"Stille!"

Adenauer's commanding voice rang out, forcing everyone there into silence. Adler barely looked up from her tablet where she sat, to the right of the Chancellor. Adenauer scanned her grey-blue eyes over everyone present and sitting at that conference table.

"Lass mich eines klarstellen. Es wird keine Intervention jetzt. Wenn Sie erwarten, dass ich unsere Jungen und Mädchen in einen Konflikt blind auf der Annahme, dass schlechte Dinge passieren auf der Basis zu werfen, dann können Sie diesen Raum jetzt zu verlassen."

"Kanzlerin, ich war nicht darauf hindeute-"

"Das ist genau das, was Sie vorschlagen wurden. Sie vergessen, daß ich weiß, du, Markus." Adenauer's tone was that of a woman who was not to be trifled with, especially now.

"You sound like incompetents, debating on something as supposedly trivial as intervention or no intervention. Something that should not be so, because the answer was always going to be no. What we will do now is observe and prepare. We can not act prematurely. We will act when we know it is necessary to.

"We will not focus on New Edom itself. That is not our concern. What we must focus on right now is Central Acheron. Our intelligence gives us reason to believe that there is still an intact military chain of command, but given precedent, we also believe that loyalties are divided. There will no doubt be some who would aim to seize the initiative presented by recent events. The Edomites have a substantial presence in Central Acheron. In the event of certain factions of the Edomite military going rogue, we face the risk of the degradation of that area. These being closest to home, this poses a potential risk. Devising a plan in the event of Central Acheron degrading into violence is the major topic we will be discussing first. Then, we will decide what actions we will take towards New Edom itself."

Everyone else at the table nodded in agreement. It wasn't as though they could disagree, per say. Adenauer was the head of the Council, the head of the nation. She decided what matters were to be spoken about.

"Now, as we know, there is still at least some semblance of power and structure left. There remains a number of government officials, but no major Cabinet ministers. The largest semblance of power that remains is the monarchy, with an inexperienced girl at its head. Without Perrin, and with what we presume to have been the line of succession for the head of government more or less eradicated, it stands well within reason to expect the possibility of the monarchy taking control. Of course, the next most senior government official could very well claim the succession, but we believe that it is much more likely that someone the likes of a top military official to assume control of the nation with their own, strong faction. It was a general who took control of the nation before, after all. How does this affect our contingency for Central Acheron? It doesn't. If the Edomites there go rogue, then we institute the plan, whatever it may be. Not, onto topic."

by **Novitera** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 5:17 pm

Avantine, State of Soletrek, Novitera
Mabel's Restaurant

On good weather days, Mabel opened up their outside area on the rooftop of a high rise in a swanky part of Avantine. Another meeting ground for power brokers. Each table booth had large wooden walls to keep the patrons out of sight from the others. There was an unspoken "gentleman's code" that the clientele keep their mouths shut about who they see meeting with who. The staff themselves were paid generously for their discretion. Of course that was broken here and there depending on the circumstances. It was unwise to expect complete privacy. At the same time it was silly to hold meetings in back alleys. If caught at an establishment less frequented by elites that meant one was truly hiding something. But they were government officials and it was mostly private sector executives who came by. Even then, there was nothing strange about the Senior Adviser to James Trask and the Prime Director of the FIS being together. Parker and Mason stepped out onto the balcony to share a cigar. The sound of the city below them, muffled by their elevation. Parker pulled out a cigar from his suit coat.

"Cigar? It's on me." Parker said, holding it up.

"No thanks. I don't like the taste." Mason replied clearly irritated. He did like his scotch though and helped himself to that.

"Suit yourself." He replied, cutting the end of his cigar. On a table outside was a jar filled with complementary matches. After lighting one, he moved to the railing to gaze upon the Avantine skyline of the night with all its dazzling lights. A jungle of a city that never slept. Mason put his back against the railing next to Parker.

"I shouldn't even be talking to you Parker. The upper echelons of the Outfit still talk about your notoriety. Even if they don't know what you did." Mason said to him while holding his glass at his chest.

"I suppose they wouldn't. It was over ten years ago. Before even your time and your predecessor buried the files." Parker said without looking at him. He seemed to be too focused on his cigar.

Mason did not know what happened in those days but he did know that Parker Gladwin was a snake. A viper that managed to slither his way back into government service when he simply could have stayed in the private sector raking it in. Even his appearance fit the bill. A face nobody would remember. Crew cut, black plastic frame glasses and average build made him look like just another bureaucrat. The classified agency dossier they pulled on Parker assessed him as a sociopath in the psychological screening.

"You still have contacts in the Outfit who do your bidding." Mason stated. It was an accusation.

"Most would not be seen within a hundred feet of me. You overestimate my influence. Don't worry Mason. The agency is your agency through and through. Or else we wouldn't be having this meeting." He replied with a hint of condescension.

"Indeed Parker. You're an adviser with no real power. Only the power to give recommendations." Mason spat back.

"You are right..." as if power only came from what was granted to you on paper"...I am an adviser. But as you know, Trask is a busy man. It is necessary for him to delegate. There's only so many people in the inner circle of his administration." Replied Parker leaving Mason to wonder if by inner circle he meant not you. A gust of wind blew throwing around Parker's tie. He set the cigar down on the table and smoothed it over. For a plain looking man Parker was very particular about his appearance. "Let's talk about something important like our future together. I hear there is unrest in Fineberg as your analysts foretold."

"Not a very difficult prediction to make but yes. It'll be on the news tomorrow. What do you want me to do about it? If you think I'm going to use our resources to fan the flames or smother it you have another thing coming."

Parker shrugged. "Nothing so involved. The mob is crying out for elections. Do you have any idea who are the prospective candidates if Jocasta folds to them?" He asked.

"Our abilities in New Edom have always been hampered. The Council Police is...very effective. We suspect that they may know what we did in Peregrino. But if so, I don't think they found anything conclusive. Luckily." Mason stated, already knowing that Parker knew about that. He downed the rest of his scotch then paced about the balcony curious as to what would happen if he threw the glass over.

"I doubt they'll be so worried about us now. You received the memo from Trask. He wants you to work with me on this. I think it's time the Outfit increase its presence there. The experts speculate too much for me to formulate a plan. You want this as much as I don't you?" Parker said trying to warm up to the Director.

"I don't like my hand being held by you." Spat Mason.

"We all must do our part. As I stated, we work together on this. Tell me, what are your thoughts if there is civil war?" Parker beckoned for an answer.

"Then its a toss up. I really don't know. You know as well as I Trask will not want to contribute military forces to back any side. With what we have in Azurlavai, FASC will recommend that they should not spare anything. We'll be restricted to the cloak and dagger game. Figure out which faction is best suited for our interests and do what we can behind the scenes to support them. But with our current capabilities there, figuring out who that is would be difficult. Let alone doing something more than marginal to alter the course of events." Mason explained knowing that Parker was just leading him to the conclusion that Parker wanted.

"Are we agreed that our eyes see too little?" Parker asked, rounding third base and sprinting home.

"Merril Daiki is the Chief of the Southern Acheron Division. I'll talk to her tomorrow and I'll work with you. Harvey, I know you two had a game of golf. Smart of you to court the man who holds the leash around our necks. But Harvey is our boy. Anything you try won't work." Mason warned.

"I asked Harvey to start putting things in motion to give you more freedom and funding. We are policy makers Mason. Is it so nefarious for me to consort with him?"

Mason set down the glass on the table. "Leave in ten minutes. I don't want to be seen with you." He said and walked away.

by **Hittanryan** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 5:43 pm

Ron's Cafe
Isidium, Adiron

The agent looked on, dispassionately but still keenly listening, largely letting the recorder do the work, though he did seem to think for a moment at the mention of a comparison between Mara Obed and Sarah Wendt. Otherwise, he was cold, betraying no hints of what his government intended on doing with information on the generals exactly. Need to know, after all. However, if they did have a broad idea of their inclinations, and their respective units dropped out of contact, they might at least be able to plan around them.

"Thank you for that information. We were recently contacted by what's left of the Foreign Ministry. The Heir to the Throne, not Her Majesty the Queen, has made several Cabinet appointments which were...vaguely temporary. As vaguely temporary as the Interim Government itself," the man said, the slightest hint of a sneer crossing his face. "We want to know more about these individuals as well as recent intrigues in court. First, the unknowns: who are Samuel Beroth and Paul Aphek and what are their inclinations? What are the Heir's tendencies? Is she a puppet, perhaps for her mother?"

"Next, recently there was something approaching a purge of monarchists recently. In addition to the public executions, our embassy was aware of arrests, dismissals. This is especially relevant because at least one of them, Thomas Lalery, has just been named acting Minister of Finance. Allegedly he, along with...Lavinia Nabal and Samuel Unwerth, were arrested for violations of the Morality Act. However, the Act is ordinarily loosely enforced. We want to know the details of this purge: who was convicted of what, what sentences or punishments were meted out, if this was political in nature, and if Lalery's return along with the other appointments represents a monarchist resurgence. It was the monarchists who brokered the deal with the Imperium in the last civil war, after all."

Adiran Embassy
Fineberg, New Edom

"Protestors, Excellency, moving towards the Cathedral and Betharan Palace, possibly Victory Square too," Redstone was informed by one of the local staff.

"What do they want?" Redstone asked, bags under his eyes and drooping a bit.

Pulling out a Hub smartphone proudly, the man fiddled with it a bit. "I took a video of it, I did," the Edomite man proclaimed. It was a large crowd, almost entirely nude.

"What do we want?"
"ELECTIONS!"
"When do we want them?"
"NOW!"
"Who are we?"
"THE FAITHFUL!"
"What do we want?"
"ELECTIONS!"

It was just a crowd of people to Redstone's estimation, but that was however long ago Samuel had took the video. "That's helpful, Samuel. Do you remember seeing anything else? Were they violent? Were they armed?" Redstone asked.

Thinking a moment, the Edomite man shook his head, then paused. "Well...might've seen somebody smashing up a store, made the storekeepers strip. But maybe they weren't protestors? Could've been just thugs, taking advantage, you know. Oh and there was some people with red paint, hitting posters," he recalled, furrowing his brow.

"Were they ETC?" Redstone asked. Hostility towards clothing. Not a good sign.

"Well, I mean, I don't know, Excellency. Could've been some of 'em, sure," he said, shrugging, starting to look worried.

"Were you close enough to hear anything else? Conversations?" the embassy's guest asked. She had raven hair tied back loosely, of a slender, feminine build, and was wearing a white patterned sundress that scooped very low in the back.

Samuel seemed to consider it a moment. "I remember...the appointments. Anger about what the Heir did. I don't know, miss, I don't really follow politics, I don't know the particulars," he said, brow furrowing.

"Thank you, Samuel. You didn't have to come here, I know. Go, spend some time with your family," Redstone said sympathetically. The Edomite man inclined his head politely and left.

Redstone then turned to the woman. "Well, State Department joked that if the Boy General died it would be civil war again before he was cold. I had hoped that wouldn't play out literally," he muttered.

"We don't know what this protest is. Or who started it. What ultimately matters is how it's finished," the woman said, packing some things into a handbag. She then walked over to her suitcase. "If these protests are put down violently, or if they storm the Palace, then we're looking at civil war."

"What are our options? There's Draconia, but they're Marines, not police. Plus we'd need to contact what's left of the government in this mess just to get approval so they're not attacked," Redstone said, walking over to his desk and taking a nearly-finished bottle of Schottian whiskey out along with a glass.

"We don't know enough yet. Don't even know if this protest is genuine," the woman said, removing her flats and digging out a pair of sandals from the suitcase.

"Damn...if only we could reach someone. We want elections too, as long as they're administered peacefully and properly," Redstone said as he poured a drink absentmindedly.

"They don't know how to do that," the woman replied, distracted with something about her dress, or in her dress, Redstone didn't notice other than her fidgeting. "Democracy to most Edomites is about one faction seizing total power and stomping all over everyone else's toes while they have the chance. If you read the reports on Carnmag, you'll see the Elections Committee had to go to great lengths to convince their test populations that 'election' is not just another word for 'coup.'"

"The Committee...nobility, commoners, Elwe, Barans, Haranese, military, civilian, Apostolics, ETC. A full mix. But that assumes they're not at each other's throats already," Redstone said.

The woman was putting something white in her bag. "We won't get anywhere sitting around trying to guess. Communications don't seem great with all the turmoil, either."

Then in one smooth motion, the woman reached down to the hem of her dress and pulled it straight up over her head, folding it quickly and putting it in her bag. She wasn't wearing a scrap underneath it. It caught Redstone off-guard; he'd seen thousands of naked Edomites. To watch an Adiran strip down like that though, revealing a lithe body with no tan lines, sculpted and well-groomed, all in just a couple of seconds...that was something else somehow. Just knowing that it wasn't natural, that it wasn't normal to her, it sent a confusing rush of blood to Redstone's groin.

Smirking a bit cruelly, the woman seemed to sense his discomfort. "What? Like what you see? Really, Ambassador, I'd have thought you'd be used to it by now. Hell, I'm surprised you haven't gone native yourself," she chided.

'Who says I haven't?' Redstone thought, bitter memories of a certain tryst resurfacing before shaking it off. "I'm used to casual nudity, Ms...?"

"Call me Wendy. Clothing screams 'foreigner' here, you know that," she said, grabbing her bag and slipping into her sandals.

"What about that conspiracy your other leads unearthed?" Redstone asked, desperate to change the subject. "If they're anything like the Hooded Man's Anarchists..."

"All we know is that it exists. We're still examining leads. Right now I'm off to find Corbulo, being the last person we heard from, and then possibly Ashren," she said, walking to the door, taking a couple of seconds to get used to the feel of walking around unencumbered before departing.

Redstone had an aide call the Foreign Ministry, specifically dialing Elizabeth Corbulo's office. "Hello, this is the Adiran embassy. We recently received a communication from Undersecretary Corbulo's office regarding the possibility of elections. We would like to make an appointment with the Undersecretary to discuss in greater detail what that would entail. If it would be possible to meet with her today, we would like to send over one of our staff..."

Fineberg

If the appointment was made, "Wendy" pressed her way through the streets of Fineberg, doing what she could to avoid the crowds, sometimes ducking into shops or market stands and pretending to look at something. She wanted to give the crowds plenty of space, without looking like she was doing so. It felt odd to be walking through a city with no clothes on and nothing to support her, but if an obvious foreigner was seen speaking to government figures who might shortly be implicated, there would be red flags. She had to stand out as little as possible while making her way to the Foreign Ministry.

IIwiki Admin · by **Ghant** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 6:19 pm

"The Circle of Life"
Inperiala Palace
Ghish, Ghant

"You will never find the real truth among people that are insecure or have egos to protect. Truth over time becomes either guarded or twisted as their perspective changes; it changes with the seasons of their shame, love, hope or pride.” - Empress Grace of Ghant, Lady of Langael, 1997.

Never thought I would come around here again.

Leo Mutu was something of a blacksheep, and for good reason. The second son of Lord Balthazar Mutu and Annabelle Ordos was a man who often earned the disfavor of others amongst the nobility. Chief among them was his decision to marry a lowborn girl he met at University. His reputation never recovered from that. Not that he gave a shit, really. Why do they care? Its not like I will ever me lord. That honor belonged to his older brother, Mathias. But it wasn't for the sake of Mathias that he set up an appointment with Malibar of Dakmoor at the Palace. It was for the sake of Mathias's late twin sister...

...Elizabeth.

Her name haunted him still. That sweet, gentle older sister of his, with her sad blue eyes and long, silky dark brown hair. Gone before her time at the age of 49 from breast cancer. She left behind three children by Malibar. Sophia, now Empress, Martin, the Crown Prince, and the last one...Michael, King Consort of New Edom. The latter weighed on his mind heavily of late. The wedding was nice enough, but from what he had heard, everything went to shit shortly thereafter. And now this shit in New Edom is going on. The safety of his nephew was his primary concern now.

His shoes made a soft tapping noise upon the marble floor, but somehow the noise was still loud, reverberating off of the wide walls of the Imperial Palace. The place had always been a den of treachery and deceit, as Leo regarded it...a pit of vipers. Seldom did good things come out of Ghish...although, that might have been his Mutu bias. For Onmutu had long been the principal rival of Ghish in the south, and there was seldom any love lost. Especially after Crown Prince John dumped my sister unceremoniously like he did for that Zuria bitch.

It was a gaudy and decadent thing, beautiful yet at times pretentiously so. Surfaces of gold and silver upon the walls and ceilings, floors of patterned marble, black and white. For almost two hundred years, it stood as a monument to Imperial power and prestige, and yet, somehow, he doubted it commanded the respect that it once had. For now it seemed somewhat...anachronistic, this mighty baroque palace in the heart of Ghish, a relic of a time and place that no longer held as much sway in the world.

Leo hadn't been at the Palace in over a year...not since Sophia got married to Nathan the previous year. It was a grand event...the most lavish celebration he had ever seen. It was fun, but as Sophia and Nathan found out, there is more to a marriage than love and sex. And it was the other things that seemed to have gotten in the way, as is often the case. A sad state of affairs that was, especially with rumors that the Emperor had taken another lover while up north. Sophia denied it, of course, and would grow irritated at the mention of it...she didn't doubt Nathan's loyalty...or at least she refused to believe that he would cheat on her. After all, why would he?

Walking softly along the length of the main hall, he studied the busts and paintings along the walls, mere drops in the bucket of Ghantish history. Famous battles were shown in art, and long dead Kings, Queens, Princes and Princesses immortalized on canvas or stone. The bust of Empress Johanna Sarissita peered out with sad eyes. The ill fated Cacertan Princess that supposedly met her end via her husband's crazed paranoia.

Leo looked away, turning his eyes to the rectangular windows that gave a picture of the dull grey Ghishian evening. The snow lay thick upon the ground, the evening lacking in traffic and still. The sky was thick with fat clouds that formed almost a mist. A sense of foreboding doom and gloom. That was the general sense around Ghant these days anyway...a sense of unease over the uncertainty that the future offered. And with a stabilizing force like Perrin Pahath-Moab dead and gone, it was even more pronounced.

When he arrived at the entrance to the throne room, he found the massive gilded doors closed, with seven men standing in front...seven being the number of great fortune. They were strapped with pistols, but also bore the traditional swords of the Palace Guard. Chief among them was the Zinpala Knight by the name of Erramun Zul, a towering man from Gaemar with arms like trees and a shock of reddish-brown hair with large green eyes embedded in his freckly face. He stood at the entrance to the throne room with three guardsmen on either side. The Zinpalak formed the most elite of the Emperor's personal guard, consisting generally of knights from noble houses. It was an honorary station, as being one of the thirteen Zinpalak was a great honor for any house fortunate enough to field a member.

Leo knew how this worked. "I have come to seek an audience with the Lord Paramount of Ghant. For I am Leo of the House Mutu, and I have business with him."

"Indeed you do, Mutu." Erramun said dryly with a nod, recognizing the Empress's uncle. "His majesty is waiting." With that, Erramun nodded and the other guards opened the doors, albeit slowly and not all the way as they were thick and heavy, and made a noise as they spread apart. Leo nodded his thanks and stepped inside.

The Throne Room was the oldest part of the palace, as it belonged to the old castle, although it had gone through some revisions since the old days. The round chamber was replaced by a rectangular one, with a row of columns lining the way, and a very long black and white patterned carpet running the length of the floor from the entrance to the elevated throne.

The tapestries were always his favorite to look upon, intricately woven stories of old, immortalized for all to look upon and know. The forging of the Obsidian Throne, deep in the fires of Mt. Arragard by the ancient order of forgemasters, pouring all of their cryptic knowledge and forbidden secrets into a twisted black thing of great power, only to be hauled back to Ghish by the very men that Robert had vanquished in battle. There was the Battle of Ten Kings, where Edward Gentry picked up his father's sword and cast down the last of the Magnussunn Kings of Ghant and restored his line to the Obsidian Throne. There was Belandra the warrior princess, wielding a sword in each hand as she dueled the Pazuzu Champion in a Trial by Combat in the gardens of the old Castle. There was the vengeance of Queen Susannah, the Mutu Queen of Ghant who was mutilated and burned alive while her children were made to watch, later avenged when the great knights of the realm banded together to wage war upon the Christian order that sanctioned such a horrific act.

Ghantish history was apolitical and unapologetic, and even events that wounded Gentry pride were depicted upon the tapestries of old. His favorite among them was of the forbidden romance between Marcel Dakmaran and Princess Sara of Ghant. A great knight and champion of justice, Marcel had his heart broken and his lands warred upon by jealous and bitter and jealous Gentry king who Marcel later cut down. There was a fair princess, beautiful and gentle...alas she was Sara, the ill fated Gentry king's sister. She was married to an older man...a man that she did not love, and a man that was indifferent towards her at best, and cruel to her at worst. Marcel rescued the princess from her husband, and upon a worse as white as snow, rode back to Dakmoor where they later ruled as King and Queen of Dakmoor.

And thus began the belief among the Ghantar that should a man fall in love with a married woman, that the two can run away together and marry themselves...provided her husband is unable to get her back. And hence a joke was born henceforth. Dakmarans are prone to forbidden romance, for it is in their blood.

Leo heard his footsteps carry, and he once again turned his gaze away from the tapestries dangling from the black depths of the ceiling above. The Throne Room was vast, and a bit chilly. The faintest sound seemed to reverberate as whispers, sending a slight chill down his spine. The braziers were lit amongst the wide and tall columns that vanished into the darkness above. beyond them, darkness swarmed in the edges of the room.

Guards flanked either end of the length, but these were no Palace guard. They wore shades of violet and purple to give them away as Dakmoorans. Indeed, even on the wall behind the twisting demon that was the Obsidian Throne, the standards of Dakmoor and House Dakmaran were borne. The Eye of Dakmoor, otherwise known as Moreabegi, stared at Leo from its black banner. It seemed to gaze into his soul...judging him. Leo had to look away, before he became enraptured by its piercing gaze.

Next to it was the bleeding white rose. It was rather simple and straightforward...a white rose splattered with and dripping blood, upon a black field. The symbology of it was profound and historical, with the white rose symbolizing purity and virtue, and the blood emphasizing pain and suffering. It was a constant reminder that in this life, one must take the good with the bad. For where there is beauty there too is pain.

As Leo approached the feet of the throne, He noticed that Malibar was perched upon it, playing with his grandson, the Crown Prince of Ghant. The one they called Baby Nate. Leo's blue eyes stared out at the child, and took note of him. Healthy and strong he appeared to be, and strangely content, despite already having a reputation for being noisy and fussy.

"Sharp thorns produce delicate roses." Malibar commented as he played with the baby. The younger Nathan reached out for the cold hardness of the hulking throne. "He likes being on the throne...he knows it belongs to him. He can sense its power, and knows that it will one day be his to wield. I will of course be able to guide him."

Leo smiled as he scratched his dark brown hair. And now he calls him a rose. "...Baby eagles can never soar under their family's wing, brother-in-law."

Malibar smirked. "...A baby eagle...that's cute, Leo. In my hands rests a key to end the Dakmaran-Gentry feud, potentially for good. As much a rose as an eagle, I would say...or at least if I have anything to say about it."

The Mutu lord flashed a grin. "Well, if he turns out to be anything like his father, he might not be very cooperative."

The King of Dakmoor glared back at him with a dull expression on his face. "Tell me Leo, what brings you to Ghish to seek an audience with me? Surely it isn't to gibe me."

"You are right. In truth, I came because I wanted to talk to you about my nephew." Leo responded purposefully.

"Of course you did. Although, Leo, you should know that supplicants should show proper courtesy by bowing before the throne to demonstrate the appropriate manners." Malibar said with a twinkle in is eye.

Leo was unimpressed. "I will do no such thing. You are neither my King nor my Lord. That and you were married to my sister...You know how Elizabeth would feel about that."

"...I would imagine so, Leo." Malibar said with a yawn. "Your sister was a good woman whom I miss dearly."

And you show it well enough by getting remarried when you did, Leo thought. "And she was a good mother to her children. Sophia, Martin...and Michael."

"And that is what this is about...Michael. Always about him." Malibar said dryly. "What about him?"

Leo ahemed. "We need to get him out of New Edom while we still have the chance. Perrin and his government is dead, there is an 18 year old regent, and the country is about to go to shit. You know it just as well as I."

"...And?" Malibar asked with a raised eyebrow.

"He is your son...my nephew. Elizabeth is gone, but her children remain. I mean to see to their safety, and I fear for his." Leo responded with purpose in his voice.

Malibar shrugged. "When I made my son King Consort of New Edom, I bound his fate to that country, one way or the other. If it goes down, so be it. But he goes with it."

Leo gasped as his skin grew cold and tingly. "How can you say that about your own son? What would Elizabeth have done?"

"If Elizabeth were still alive she never would have allowed the marriage to take place." Malibar pointed out. "Same reason why she didn't approve of Sophia and Nathan for all of those years. She felt as though it was being forced as opposed to occurring naturally. Elizabeth was all about love, flowers and happiness. Life isn't about that, Leo...but I wouldn't expect you of all people to understand. After all, you did defy your father when you eloped with some lowborn street girl you met at University."

Leo scoffed at that. "You watch your tongue, Malibar. I don't have to take this shit from you. Elizabeth would be ashamed, abandoning your son to his fate, for the sake of what? Power, influence?"

The King of Dakmoor sighed. "You still don't get it. It is in tenuous circumstances such as the one in New Edom where men can rise and do something great. This is Michael's chance. Here lies an opportunity for him to do something great for his own personal honor and that of his house. He will either succeed, or he will not. And this time, the price of failure could very well be death."

Leo clenched a fist and shook his head. "You give him no credit and yet he tries to do your will. He loves you, Malibar. Always has."

Malibar snorted. "Do not trouble me with Michael. I know his uses and they are few. I asked him to do one simple thing and he somehow managed to even fuck that up. Well, this is last chance. Time to see if he will sink or swim, once and for all."

Leo began to shout. "He would lay down his life if he thought you would respect him for it."

"Good. If he died doing something heroic, at least he did something right." Malibar responded, callously.

Leo figured he was wasting his time. "So that's it, huh? How far the Dakmarans have fallen. There was a time in history when they commanded the love and respect of men for their noble and virtuous deeds. That was what my sister was drawn to you for...once you were a good man and true. And now what? The power has tainted and corrupted you. Are you really any different from the Gentries now? Willing to condemn your own children to death for the sake of your precious legacy? How fare are you willing to go if you would forsake your son to an early grave? What's next? Would you be prepared to start cracking down on noblemen who challenge your authority?"

Malibar leaned forward with narrowed eyes. "If I did, I know where I would start, Mutu."

"And how would you deal with them...would you round them all up, house by house, and burn them alive, right here in this very hall?" Leo said the unthinkable.

The King of Dakmoor leaned back into the Obsidian Throne, his face hard now. "Get out."

"With pleasure." Leo stared him down, and as he turned to walk away, he could hear the Crown Prince begin to cry. The voice echoed in that poorly lit throne room, the sound ever so shrill and almost sad. Leo walked over the very spot it was said that the Dakmarans were burned by the Mad Emperor. It felt like a crypt. For even when it happened, it was said that five hundred men, all great knights of the realm, stood and watched, with no one saying a word or lifting a finger.

Would anyone say a word or lift a finger now? Leo thought as he passed back through the doors and walked down the length of the hall. Turning one corner after another, he chanced upon Sophia with her guards.

His niece beamed at him. "Uncle Leo!" she exclaimed as she ran to him and embraced him warmly. "It is so good to see you!"

Leo embraced her and kissed her on either cheek. "And you as well, little girl. How are you?"

"...Still processing what has happened in New Edom, in truth." Sophia responded. She was wearing a palace gown that hung over her shoulders by thin straps, leaving the smooth, clear skin of her shoulders, arms and collarbone bare. "Would you like to see the babies? They are adorable, uncle. Sara looks like mother."

A sad smile crept across Leo's face. "I would like to see them, yes. Show me, if you would."

As they walked down the hall, Sophia asked him, "how did your meeting with father go?"

Leo shook his head. "It didn't last very long. He won't try to get Michael out, and said that it would displease him if he returned."

Sophia sighed and looked at the floor. "I tried to reason with him, but he won't listen. What can I do, Uncle Leo?"

"You need to stand up to him, for one." Leo pointed out. "He may be your father but you are the Empress. You outrank him and he knows it. He cannot withstand you if you put your foot down and overrule him."

"...But it would displease him." Sophia lamented.

"Who gives a shit? What's he going to do if you do?" Leo asked assertively.

"...I don't know, but I don't want to find out. I have heard stories about lords in Dakmoor that challenged his rule. Something...unexpected might happen to them, some kind of an accident, and it wouldn't happen again. I have children to fear for now...not just myself." Sophia said with a sigh.

"You shouldn't fear your father. He loves you know now. I think of the three of you, you are the one he is most proud of." Leo pointed out. Malibar really does have this country under his thumb.

"Well, he professes he loves Michael..." Sophia said as she approached the doors to her lounge. "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst," she said as she pushed open the doors. Princess Sara and Prince John were in their crib. Both were awake, and looking around, kicking their feet and shaking their arms. John cooed and Sara squealed when Sophia returned with her uncle Leo.

"She does look like Elizabeth, doesn't she?" Leo asked.

"Yes she does, and she is very precious. Do you want to hold her? You can pick her up." Sophia smiled.

Leo bent over slightly to pick her up, placing a hand under her head and another under her back, pulling her close, he noticed that like her grandmother, she had dark brown hair, but the deep blue Dakmaran eyes, with cute a little nose. "Aye, she does." Leo went in to kiss her on the cheeks and forehead, and she cooed, even trying to grab his nose.

Sophia, meanwhile, picked up John. As Leo cuddled Sara, he took a look at the other baby. He was smaller, and weaker, he could discern as much. He already had a thick head of black hair and deep blue eyes, with pale, unblemished skin. "John looks very Dakmaran," he commented.

"...Yes, that he does." Sophia said as she snuggled her son. "Dakmaran traits run strong...one was bound to have them."

As much as Leo enjoyed cuddling his great-niece, much was on his mind. "What is the situation in New Edom at the moment, from what you have heard? Do you talk to Michael much about what goes on?"

"...Of course. He tells me everything." Sophia smiled as she kissed her son's face. "Perrin was like the rope that held it together. Now the rope is cut...and in its place there is a void. A power vacuum has been created, and we don't know who will fill it. Jocasta is trying to, apparently, by filling the cabinet with men loyal to the monarchy."

"...Wouldn't making the government strongly monarchist oriented irritate the other factions?" Leo asked.

"It is reasonable to assume that, yes. Michael tried to suggest that Count Thomas Lalery, who was given a position as Minister of Finance, go to Izotza to court Izolde so the vacancy could be given to someone from these other factions, but apparently, Jocasta and her retinue insisted that he remain." Sophia explained.

Leo nodded. "How confident are you in Jocasta's abilities as...Regent?"

"Well, from what Michael has told me, she is bright, dutiful and gentle, but also naive and easily influenced. I suspect she might not be aware of the severity of the consequences should the other factions turn on her." Sophia pointed out as she gave John a nose kiss. "This is why I worry...I worry that the monarchy could come under threat by the other factions...the Free Congress, perhaps."

"The Free Congress, eh? Like William Touchstone?" Leo asked.

"Why yes...how do you know about him?" Sophia was curious.

"...I still remember you wearing that 'I <3 Willy T' t-shirt," her uncle laughed.

"Oh right, of course." Sophia blushed. "Well, there is also the End Times Church. They are also potentially dangerous, maybe even more than the Free Congress, due to their fanatical beliefs. I heard from Michael that Prophet Under of said Church is of unknown whereabouts. That...is somewhat alarming, as it could be an indication that he is up to something, potentially foul at that."

Leo shrugged. "It could also mean that he is trying to get the hell out of dodge...not wanting to be anywhere near where the shit will go down at."

"...That's possible." Sophia said, with a slight grin. "At least now, there may be more of a chance for New Edom to distance itself from the Imperium...such a dreadful country, Uncle. As evil and wicked as they come. Sometimes I pray for Adiron, that they might be safe from Imperium aggression. I pray for Mara everyday as well, for she is my friend and I hate to see her suffer. I wish there was something I could do for her. And of course I pray for Michael and the royal family...for them to be safe and unharmed."

"That is very thoughtful of you, Sophia. But prayers alone are not enough. If not try to get Michael out, then you yourself should pledge assistance to Jocasta should she require it, whatever it may be. That should include force if necessary in order to stabilize her regency." Leo insisted. "Offer it to her, and let her know that it is an option for her to consider if needs be."

Sophia looked at her uncle with those deep blue eyes of hers, and then she lowered them. "Yes, I suppose that can be arranged. I can see to it that at least an effort is made to support the Monarchists in this present predicament, by whatever means that Jocasta may require."

"That seems to me to be a reasonable course of action." Leo kissed his great-niece and put her back in her crib, where she kicked her legs and moved her arms rapidly, twisting and squealing in baby speak.

Sophia put John back in as well, and watched as he laid still and imitated his sister somewhat, squirming with his limbs and making gargling noises. The babies looked to be communicating in their white onesies, although it could have just been random baby noises. "They talk, uncle, although about what only God knows."

"Do you think they are talking about Perrin?" Leo wondered.

Sophia smiled for an instant. "They don't know who he is. But they will know that he was a decent man that tried to do the right thing for his country, and the world. Sometimes, that requires making hard choices."

"Aye, for some, there is no dying. Perrin's name will live on into the annals of time, I suspect." Leo ruminated as he looked at the babies.

"Indeed, uncle. But also, life goes on. For when one life ends, another begins," she answered as she caressed the baby girl.

"That it does, sweet niece...that it does. Such is life. In any case, I should be going. I don't want to keep your aunt waiting for too long, you know." Leo said gently.

"Must you go so soon? You could always stay for dinner. I was getting steak and clam chowder with buttered corn." Sophia mused.

"You have my number, just give me a call and I can come visit again sometime." Leo said with a smile. "Just make sure you let your men know...I wouldn't want to get barred from the Palace like I did that time Nathan forgot to tell anyone I was coming."

Sophia giggled, and then looked sad when her husband was brought up. "Yes, it shall be done. If you must leave though, tell Aunt Debora that I said hello, and the cousins too." Sophia gave him a hug.

"That I shall do," Leo responded as he hugged her, before bowing slightly and taking his leave of her. Fact was, even though Leo never got along swimmingly with Malibar, he would suffer the man for the sake of Elizabeth and her children.

After her Uncle Leo left, Sophia sat down at her desk and set to composing a message for Crown Princess Jocasta.

Sophia's mind was heavy with thoughts and concerns for those effected by the recent events in New Edom, of those lost. Her uncle was right...a man like Perrin could never truly die. What he stood for, what he hoped to build and what he hoped to achieve would live on and echo into the mist of time until it slowly began to fade, as one day all things do. Then she looked at her babies in their crib...already falling to sleep. It made her smile, albeit sadly. Such is the Circle of Life.

by **Shalum** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 6:59 pm

Shalumite Combined Arms Base
New Edom

Jack Harper yawned quietly as he shifted from side to side in his seat, his eyes drooping for a brief moment, before he managed to get them under control again. Truth be told, he hadn't gotten the normal amount of sleep that he usually did the night before, but for good reasons. He and Camilla had grown accustom to being passionate with one another, and the night prior had been no different. Apparently, bringing the puppy home had made her happy, and things had gotten better from there.

As his eyes began to fall again, the sound of his phone buzzing got his attention. He grunted under his breath and began to fumble with his pants for a moment, before he finally managed to dig the device out. Reading the contact, a small smile creased his lips as he looked at the picture that was displayed. It was his wife on the couch, with the puppy on her lap, both of whom were looking up at the camera. He had taken it the night before, of course, and had decided that it would be a good photo to use. He slid his finger across the German (he had dumped the Noviteran brand that he had been using after the whole boycott thing) made phone and brought it to his ear. "Hello?"

By the end of the conversation, his good mood had evaporated, and his fingers had tightened around the phone so much that he would have probably broken it if not for the hard shell case that he had gotten along with the phone itself. "Camilla, I have come to love having you in my life. You're the best thing that I could ever dream of asking for. Stay strong for us both, schatz, I'm going to do everything I can to get you and Jocasta out of there, I promise." When the call ended, he growled and slid his phone into his pocket before standing up abruptly, briefly causing Baron to yelp in surprise.

It was time to get to work.

"Everyone on you feet, double time, move it people this ain't no goddamn time to lounge!" That was what General Jack Harper barked as he stalked into the main room of the officer's common areas. In an instant, the officers who had been lounging were on their feet, their heads up and alert, and their hands behind their back in parade rest positions. As their gazes shot toward their commanding officer, more than a few eyebrows rose in surprise. The normally calm and peaceable general looked immeasurably angry as he came to a stop before them, his shoulders tense, and cerulean eyes cold as a Vyrsarian winter. His state of dress was a surprising one as well, as he was actually wearing a combat vest over his normal BDUs, along with his normal USP45 tactical pistol on his hip. It was only now that they realized that he was being shadowed by four marines, all of whom were bedecked in what you would expect of one who was going into battle, with their rifles slung over their shoulders.

"General Harper, what is going on?" Brigadier Schultz queried as he and Major Valliancourt came to a stop. They had been the last to arrive, due to the fact that they had been playing a game pool in the back corner of the common area, where there were a couple of tables had been set up.

"We have a situation unfolding at the moment, Ferdinand." The Shalumite marine general replied tersely as he eyed the two men. That seemed to really get the undivided attention of every man in the room. There had been talks all over the base of something happening following the death of Perrin, and apparently it was going down. Whatever was happening had the general rather worked up, which didn't make them feel better, considering his normal temperament. "My wife...just called me, and reports from the ground confirmed. There are mass protests going on in Fineberg. They're heading toward the Palace as we speak. Looting for the moment, but what will come of it has yet to be determined." He said in a bitter tone, shaking his head.

"Is your wife and Princess Jocasta in danger, sir?" Jean-Paul asked, his green eyes larger than they normally seemed to be. All he got in response was a curt nod from General Harper, which caused the major's fists to ball for a moment at his side. "What do you need us to do, sir?" He asked, looking around at the other officers for a moment. For the most part, they looked intent and alert, ready to respond to whatever commands that they were going to receive. A few of the more junior men looked a tad worried at the idea of what was going on.

Harper sighed for a moment, running a hand through his raven hair. "There is not too much we can do on the ground. Already, we've got our troops on standby, with the base locked down for all intents and purposes, security doubled and all of that. I want that to continue, of course. If the Edomites call for assistance though, I want a unit ready to respond." He said, his gaze lingering on Ferdinand, his second in command, as he spoke.

His gaze then turned to look at the special operations major. "Paul, I want you and men to mount up, and get in the air. We may need to extract the Edomite royal family should it really hit the fan." He ordered. There were words that were left unsaid there that everyone in the room understood. By coming to the aid of Edomite royal family, they would also be able to get his wife out of danger as well.

Jean-Paul nodded seriously. "As you wish, sir. Is there anything else?"

The general shook his head. "For the moment, not much that I can think of. We're not in the best position to do anything major, at the moment. We don't want to make things worse, and we don't want anyone to die. Avoiding a civil war is a big goal at the moment." He explained. "Make sure that you and your men have non-lethal on hand. Tear gas, batons, flash bangs, rubber bullets. We don't want anyone hurt, as I said." He added.

Jean-Paul nodded. "Hoorah sir, you can count on me and my men." He replied. A wave of the hand was all that he got, but it was enough to know that he was dismissed to carry out his duties. He wasted no time, turning and heading out the door, before trekking across the base to where his men and the airmobile units of the 103rd Marine Division had set up shop. Because they both used helicopters for missions, they had been grouped close to one another.

Within a few minutes, that part of the base had become a hub of activity, as marines went left and right, gather their gear and looking for a number of things. Along with their normal weapons, they found themselves issued with non-lethal weapons, one of the larger pieces being a standard issue Milkor MGL with tear gas grenades. When they finally had gotten themselves in order, they took to the skies on Shalumite made UH-51 Iron Eagles, which was for all intents and purposes, a slightly larger version of the Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk. There were five of these helicopters present for the mission, not all of the those which were available for them to use, but what they considered to be a good number of the moment. Four of them were loaded with regular marines, while the fifth had Jean-Paul and some of his special operations troopers.

Truth be told, it was unknown if they would be needed for the moment, with the situation non-violent for the most part. If they were though, they would be ready to swoop in and do what they needed to do. Each helicopter seemed tense as they approached Fineberg. With any luck, they wouldn't be needed at all.

Shalumite Embassy
Fineberg, New Edom

Prince William stood by his door, casting a glance out into the hallways. Staff could be seen scurrying, as they manned phones and spoke about the riots which were happening a bit too close for their liking. For the most part, they were Shalumite, but there were a few locals who were Baran, his personal secretary (who was nowhere to be seen at the moment) included. The security staff could be seen as well, weapons now openly worn on their sides, as they prepared for the worst. No one was quite sure what was going on in the Shalumite Embassy at the moment, apparently.

As he phone rang, he drifted away from the door, and picked it up off his desk. "Hello? Ah yes, this is he. Uhh...it's good to hear from you, Dr. Aphek." He replied, silently racking his brain to remember who exactly the man was. It really didn't ring a bell with him. His eyes widened as he listened to the man, and then he responded. "Uh yes. If you require our immediate assistance, just let me or General Harper know. Our forces aren't tied up with anything at the moment, and I'm sure they could deploy to assist your own should the need arise. Our marine force present is certainly up to the job, I assure you." The ambassador replied over the phone.

God, this could turn into a real mess, he thought.

by **Nalaya** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 8:13 pm

On Post
Glasstower, New Edom

Sandruni hunched over and stared ferociously at her cards, which were arranged so that only the barest corners didn't overlap. It was so quiet in their housing that someone could hear a pin drop. Their living quarters were still basically one step up from squatting in an abandoned building, but they were Nalayan. As long as no one was trying to shoot at them, it was a pretty damn good day. And yet, this was different. Thus the silence hung like a dark cloud over eveyone and they all tried not to think about anything beyond the walls.

Pahath-Moab was dead. That meant shit was about to hit the fan at Mach-5. It was more a matter of where than anything else. If it happened in Glasstower...they had people to protect here. Sandruni thought about Chelsea and the kids. All that hard work that the Adirans had put in. The little ways that life had slowly changed for the better, that warmth that new green growth after a fire could bring to a heart, the smiling of once somber young faces, all of that was looking as if it might vanish in the next breeze like a puff of cigarette smoke. She stared harder at her cards, trying to burn the little symbols into her retinas.

She was a serzhant now. People looked up to her. People expected things of her. She wasn't just some specialist anymore, even if she was just some lower-grade NCO. She could feel the eyes on her right now, in fact. She didn't have to look up to know they were staring at her for an answer as the news played silently across the screen that they'd managed to hook up. She had muted it the moment she sat down in the room, not wanting to hear it. She regretted that even though she didn't want to have to hear what was going on. Things were happening in Fineburg. Big things. Everyone knew it. It was inevtable that things would come to a head.

The silence grew more and more oppressive. She started to feel like she was drowning under the pressure. It wound tighter and tighter like a rubber band being stretched. They didn't stop looking. Finally, she exploded. The cards went flying and she almost upended the table as she launched herself upwards. "The fuck are you all looking at? You all have shit to do. Go do it!" Sandruni snapped, leveling her most fearsome glare at the soldiers around her. To her unending surprise, it actually worked. That must have been Arakelyan's influence. She hated this brand new, heaping mess on her lap. She jammed her hands in her pockets and stepped outside.

"Allo," Arakelyan greeted her amiably, smoking his cigarette out under the eaves of the oft-leaking roof. They were getting a light sprinkle of rain. "Not out with the kids? There was some murmur about a football game. Don't you usually ref?"

Sandruni sighed, willing the tension out of her body. "I was making notes in the manual for class, but then they wanted to play cards." She had been assigned to teach a basic class in for anyone who wanted it on how to identify various types of munitions and common kinds of IEDs, while spending her off-hours at the school. After all the fighting, they didn't want people accidentally blowing themselves to bits on lost ordinance. She felt a little better out in the fresh air with everyone watching her every move like vultures. "This is shit."

"Yeah, I reckon it's about to all go tits-up," the senior NCO agreed. He puffed thoughtfully.

"I know," she said, clenching her fists in her pockets.

Their platoon leader arrived, so both of them straightened up slightly and saluted. "Leytenant Torosian, what can we do for you?" Arakelyan said.

"At ease. Sandruni, get over to the Adirans and find out what they plan on doing. We need to be prepared to be whatever they need us to be," the officer said. "Command wants it done, you're holding the short straw."

"Could be worse, LT," Sandruni said with a shrug. It would be a relief to get away from the tension. Inside, she knew everyone would be keeping themselves busy by doing things like weapon maintenance. A quiet room full of people checking ammo, inspecting armor, and cleaning guns wasn't really what she was looking for. Maybe she could catch a match on the way back. "Least you aren't asking me to find landmines with my feet."

"Day's still young, Sandruni," Torosian murmured. "Get on it, Serzhant."

"Ayo." With that, Sandruni was off on her way to figure out what the hell was going to happen next. Her natural good mood was slowly coming back even though she could feel the blade hanging over everyone's head. She hummed softly to herself as she walked, turning her walk from an explosive stalk to a normal gait. Even if she was deluding herself, she had to believe that this was going to be alright and that their work hadn't been a waste.

The Protector's Office
Sevan, Nalaya

"Fuck my life," Siran Zadian said as she slapped the dossier down on her superior's desk. The head of the Unkndirnei was exhausted. She'd been working to find out what was going on since the stadium collapsed. She'd stayed up all night to compile a briefing that was nowhere near comprehensive, but it was as good as it was going to get. The others were here in attendance, even Yeva, who was usually in Arax around her family and Nalaya's largest naval base. The woman looked even more tightly wound than usual, if only because she was sensitive about New Edom. One of her daughters was stationed there and then there was William.

"I appreciate your color commentary," Khavar said brusquely. There had been no time to drink to Perrin's memory nor for anything approaching grief. None of them had known him well enough other than Siri to really appreciate the absence. They had been scrambling for answers in wake of the disaster, like everyone. Their scramble was just more organized and perhaps even more efficient.

"The Crown Princess made cabinet appointments that seem...let's go with conducive...to a civil war," Siran said. She stood in front of her chair with her hands clasped behind her back while the others sat in a circle of chairs pulled up. "They're all aristocrats or very, very sympathetic to the monarchy. That Monarchist-Free Congress thing may not be over. And that's not touching on the religious zealots. If social media is any indication, people are not overwhelmingly in support of the idea."

"A power play?" Hravad queried, his stony face immobile. He stroked the scar at the corner of his mouth with a thumb. "Now might be the only chance they have to reassert control. Military? Siran, what about the Council Police?"

"I have no indication that they won't be as divided everyone else," Siran said, returning to her seat in the little circle. Khavar was seated on her desk facing all of them, one leg crossed over the other. The Protector was more inclined to listen than talk right now, so she simply nodded to Siran. "Anything more than that is basically pure speculation. I sent out an alert to our agents that were embedded with the forces in Glasstower, the Embassy in Fineburg—who already contacted me—, and the handful loose ones floating around on the border working on our unpleasantness in the Homeland. That will bring intel in faster. We should also rub antennae with the Shalumi. They have people in Fineburg."

"Siri, you're our expert on New Edom," Inna Karapetyan said, lighting a fresh cigarette off the end of her current one. No one complained about the ash getting on the carpet. She was the only one out of the people here assembled who didn't look grim. "Wanna pitch in?"

"If this goes," Siri Kalousdian said quietly. "It won't be Monarchist versus Free Congress. It will be a giant free-for-all on every line you can imagine. They're like us. What would Nalaya do if we were all wiped out?"

"Fun stuff," Inna said dryly. She inhaled deeply on her cigarette, held her breath for a moment, and then exhaled. "Not a lot we can do. The only thing an outside intervention will do is get them all pissed at us."

"We need to be focused on humanitarian aid and relief," Siri said with conviction, leaning forward so that her elbows rested on her knees. "And defending the people on the ground who are doing just that. The Isidium Foundation is there. We need to stay there as well."

"Also, it would be...difficult to pull our soldiers out," Siran said thoughtfully, turning this over in her head. "Not to mention what it would do to our international image. 'Nalaya Abandons Aid Workers'."

"This isn't about reputation," Kalousdian said fiercely. "This is about the right thing."

Siran bit her tongue and looked away so Siri didn't see the eye roll. She respected her colleague and enjoyed her company, but sometimes.... Too much like Anahid. The world isn't kind to idealists.

Khavar knew when to say something. "Whatever the rationale, we are all working towards the same end," the Protector said. "Our forces on the ground will maintain defense of the aid workers. If conflict breaks out, we will see what must be done then. Siran, can your people keep our ambassador safe?"

"The Ambassador and her staff can pull a disappearing act if need be," Siran said without hesitation. "I trust my people."

"Then that is everything for now. We all need sleep. Contacting New Edom's government officially can wait until tomorrow, provided it remains standing," Khavar said as she stood up. "If not, be prepared to contact Augrim and Corbulo. We know Augrim and Corbulo knows everyone else. Oh, and Inna?"

"Yes, Arzhani?"

"Get me an eye in the sky over the border. I don't want Lledrith taking this as an excuse to squabble with the Elwe or something equally frustrating. Perhaps something with bombs," the Protector said. She picked up the dossier. "I am going to go do a little light reading before bed."

With that, the meeting was over. At least, the official one. Siran and Siri both split off to do their jobs after exchanging a look that said more than sentences ever could. Ideological differences, but their goals were compatible. Hravad looked over at Inna, who was still sitting and smoking a cigarette. "What do you think?"

She shrugged. "Shit was going too good to last." Hravad sighed and unbuttoned his jacket before picking up his briefcase. He needed an escape from the stiff collar for a few minutes. She stood up and tucked her hands into her pockets before continuing, "Drink?"

"Aren't you supposed to be giving that up?" he said with a brief smile quirking his lips upward at the corner.

Inna slipped her arm through his free one. "We've got to go have one for a ghost."

by **New Edom** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 10:48 pm

Fineberg, New Edom

The march eventually continued to process along Advent Street. The marchers, Josefina among them, followed this street, normally used by buses, pedi-cabs cyclists and pedestrians, and were swollen enough by numbers that it was more of a stroll than a march, until it eventually opened out at Victory Square.. The sun gleamed on the helmets and sunglasses, riot shields and flexing batons of City Militia. The ringing neighing of a horse was heard; as Josefina craned above the sea of people before her, the chanting and slogans, the talking and singing muffled the noise of what sounded like orders shouted through a megaphone. Militia lined the streets here, but they, and a truck load of Military Police passing, seemed friendly enough.

“Close enough!” shouted a young Militia officer, with a megaphone, standing in the back of a military pickup truck. “You can shout from here, and send petitions, and delegations can be met with, but no going in as a group! I am authorized to read this message from a joint group of civil servants and military officers, including Undersecretaries Corbulo, Cotta, Fish, Gath, Ashren, Generals Benajah, Augrim, Vrinn, Josephus, Admiral Button: it is our intention to follow the legacy of General Pahath-Moab and Mr. Touchstone in upholding the agreed upon constitution. We are glad to discuss this with the people. We ask that you present your concerns in a written form and plan with us a sit down meeting with representative delegates to hear your concerns. Under God, our nation will flourish in the face of unspeakable loss and tragedy…”

Josefina only heard parts of this, she was trying to see, saw flashes of the officers mirror shined helmet, his painted bare belly and military cross belts, and felt a rush of delight—the protest was working!

Helicopters buzzed overhead, and added to the confusion and noise. People pressed against her, she felt a woman’s breasts against her back, someone stepping on her foot, her own bosom and belly against the man in front of her. A sharp tang of urine mingled with the smell of fresh paint, soap and sweat that held over the crowd like a fog suddenly. People excitedly milled forward,

Betharan Palace

“What do we want?”
“ELECTIONS!”
“When do we want them?”
“NOW!”

There were other shouts, of “Where’s Queen Mara?” “BRING US THE QUEEN! BRING US THE QUEEN!” shouted one part of the crowd near the east entrance to the Palace. They sang an old popular marching song that had been sung throughout the wars against the Cornellian tyrant Gallus, that had its origins in Adiron.

As we rally round the flag
As we rally once again
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
We will gather from the hillsides
We’ll gather from the plains
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
New Edom forever!
Hurrah, folks, hurrah!
Up with the Griffon and down with the crown!...

People were setting up a movable stage, sound systems and friendlies who worked with a foreign software company had even set up contact—probably pirated—with one of the cube sats to make sure they had live feed coverage of the protest. Amid painted bodies, signs and banners the 21st Century had entered Edomite protesting.

Then around one of the gates, people near the stage were aware, for they could see better, that there were signs of confusion. There was a loud clattering noise as mounted Cavalry Guardsmen in riot gear with leather face shields on the horses making them look like weird modern knights; the great black heads tossing and people backing away, muffled orders being shouted, the crowd pressing back.

Tim Stanton, with a Fineberg Times camera crew, saw the crowd oddly scattering, people moving backwards then turning and running here and there. The crowd seemed to be panicking like frightened capybaras. Clouds were billowing from around the palace that were bitter with tear gas.

He got texts from local and foreign journalists—while things were peaceful at Victory Square, at the Cathedral things were wild, no one quite knew what was going on but apparently people had heard that there were Noviteran agitators being held there. Suddenly there was a great shout from the Cavalry Guardsmen, and as one they cantered forward, panicking the crowd. There was an electronic groan as part of the sound system collapsed and the stage turned over. The Guardsmen were charging into the crowd, were waving batons at fleeing protestors. One protestor was battered on the head and chest by a baton as he lay in a foetal crouch on the ground. Smoke was still billowing out of the Palace and nothing could be seen through the engulfing whiteness other than the faint shadows of memorials and protestors. Escaping along with the smoke were protestors who held scarves, handkerchiefs and other types of cloth up against their mouths. Horses were trotting backwards and forwards with Guardsmenon their backs as they attempted to disperse the crowd.

Tim felt something fly past his head, and at first feared that there were rubber bullets or worse being fired. But not yet. The more violent among the protestors, perhaps even his cynical mind thought CP agitators, were throwing stones, bricks and railings at the police and soldiers and aggravated an already dangerous situation. Smoke continued to float over the crowd. Cars were overturned. Projectiles were thrown at the statues of David the Lawgiver and David the Landstrider, and Adah the Liberator.

Tim tried to stand his ground, to capture it, but in a way this was just as frightening as being in Anarchist territory in The Triangle—because it was so chaotic, because he didn’t know what would happen next, or from whom action would come…he heard shouts around him as naked people fled, and realized with alarm he could feel and hear the thundering horses approaching.

"Let's get the fuck out of here!"

"They’re shooting around Victory Square!” heard someone scream. No—that couldn’t be true, he had just heard…

There was a loud whooshing hiss, and arcs of water were spraying as APCs with water cannon mounted were slowing moving out behind the horses, and a line of marching Guardsmen on foot with riot shields and helmets were advancing just behind it.

That did it for him—he yelled, “Let’s go, come on!” to his crew. He realized they were shaking with fear—greenies, he thought, wishing for the Deacon. His long manhood waved this way and that as he ran with his crew, slapping his thighs. He desperately wanted to upload what he had so far, and pointed, “That way, that church, let’s get to the shelter of the courtyard! Move!”

Jocasta, in a long white dress, stared out the window; to her it looked like a maelstrom of chaos, white clouds billowing, horsemen charging, machines growing forward, but the Guardsmen looked like a small force against a sea of humanity. She felt sick. Her mother was right, they were scum, vermin. Bitter tears stood in her eyes. Her uncle Mark had been right all along.

“Jocasta…Highness…darling..” Camilla nearly weeping was beside her. “My husband can evacuate us.”

“Why can’t our own people do that?” Jocasta demanded, turning to Falk. He shook his head.

“Highness, I was informed by General Benajah that there is nothing that they can do at this time. The…”

She stared at him. “What?”

Falk said, taking a deep breath, “Highness, the Air Force detachment at MDF refuses to prepare their helicopters to come here. The Chiefs of Staff feel that the military’s neutrality and insistence on following procedure should not be…”

Jocasta lowered her eyes a moment. “Traitors. They are traitors. Is anyone loyal?”

“General Hesperinus, General Unwerth, are both loyal, Highness, but they are not close. It would take each of them several hours to bring any military forces to bear.” Count Falk said, looking like he was ready to be sick.

“I will not flee my own capital,” Jocasta said firmly. “But the King Consort, Mama, and you, Camilla, must go. You may tell General Harper that. And Dr. Aphek, Count Falk, please advise General Hesperinus and General Unwerth that I will award with the rank of Chief of the General Military Staff whichever of them brings a force sufficient to secure Fineberg most quickly and ably. I will remain here until they do.” She smiled faintly. The crowd were running like the rats they were from her glorious Cavalry Guardsmen. Her loins felt agitated, deliciously at their display of courage, and she felt a hot rush of shame and desire at once. Confession time soon. How awful.

by **New Edom** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 10:58 pm

The Estate of Prince Elijah Shalmaneser, 5 km from Fineberg

General John Ashdod of the Council Police marched at a clipped pace down the hall, following a wizened bald servant, who gestured at a door. He nodded and went in, and found Prince Elijah surrounded by dead animals. A forest of horns and antlers on the walls, eyes staring glassily at him, snarling, staring. A diatryma poised as if to pounce; a smilodon's fanged face glowered. And the tall, dark haired, gloomy eyed Prince sat there with a shotgun pointed at him as he turned, his eyes hard and gleaming.

Ashdod turned white and his stomach lurched, he barely controlled his bowels. "Gah!"

Prince Elijah raised his eyebrows.

"Please..." Ashdod fell to his knees and sobbed, holding out his hands imploringly. "For the love of God, sir, I have a wife and children. I realize I am not liked, but I have only been loyal to New Edom--to New Edom!"

"What's the matter with you?" Prince Elijah wondered aloud.

"Don't shoot me, please, I will do anything..." Ashdod realized the awful irony, he had heard those words and been callous. His chickens had come home to roost at last.

"My dear fellow, what strain you are under, you need a rest..." said Prince Elijah, putting the gun down.

"No, anything but that, I can do my duty..." wept Ashdod.

"Don't be foolish..."

"I beg of you..." Ashdod said.

"You can stay at my own estate," said Prince Elijah. "I insist, as my guest. I will have bread and salt brought. Really, what strain you must have been under. My dear fellow. And of course mourning for Harcourt. By the way, why did you come here?"

Ashdod wiped his tears and stammered, "I...oh...what does it matter now..I came to directly find out why you had not come to Fineberg. There are problems there."

"Ah, yes, that." Prince Elijah said, waving a hand. "Well you see, I am skeptical that my dear young cousin has the right to appoint me to anything, but I felt it was best I come and find out myself. I am wondering why she implies that the Queen is mentally unfit to rule and yet there is no official assurance of that. Most irregular, so naturally I decided to make inquiries. I intend to go to Padan-Aran, as a matter of fact."

"Wh..what about me?" Ashdod said.

"You? You will rest, of course. You will also give me a list of your most loyal followers and contacts, as you are by your own admission overwrought. Might be best if you come with me." Elijah gave him one of his brief little smiles.

Ashdod wiped his nose with his handkerchief, and sighed. So death would come at an unexpected moment, like that of a loyal dog. So be it. Time to make his peace with God. "As you say, sir. I can run a great deal of the Ministry remotely."

"Really, well of course you can," said Prince Elijah, bidding him to rise. "Of course you can."

by **New Edom** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 11:17 pm

A War of Letters

From Royal Highness, Crown Princess Jocasta Obed, on behalf of Her Royal Majesty, Queen Mara Obed I of New Edom
To
King Alois I of New Hydrenia

Your Majesty

Thank you very much for your condolences. We will mourn deeply all the losses, but most particularly that of General Perrin Pahath-Moab, a great hero, a great friend of the people and my cousin, of course. He will be deeply missed.

I am grateful for your reminder of familial ties and friendship between our countries. Right now we are experiencing some difficulties, and I hope that you might be kind enough to make a public statement on behalf of my government in the face of what I can only describe as religious fanatics, barbarians, socialists and other nasty people. My love to you and to my darling cousin Olivia whom I miss so much.

with deepest respects,
Crown Princess Jocasta

A War of Letters

From Royal Highness, Crown Princess Jocasta Obed, on behalf of Her Royal Majesty, Queen Mara Obed I of New Edom
To
High Queen Tara Silven

Your Majesty

Thank you very much for your condolences. We will mourn deeply all the losses, but most particularly that of General Perrin Pahath-Moab, a great hero, a great friend of the people and my cousin, of course. He will be deeply missed.

I am humbly aware that when you met with General Pahath-Moab, you stood as equals in purpose and vision, and I can only support that vision, which is of peaceful negotiation between nations, safety on the high seas and respect for civilized trade and discourse.

I thank you for your kind message which has been an inspiration to me, as you are yourself, being a woman who began to rule at a young age in the midst of great tragedy as I do now.

with deepest respects,
Crown Princess Jocasta

From Royal Highness, Crown Princess Jocasta Obed, on behalf of Her Royal Majesty, Queen Mara Obed I of New Edom
To
Sophia, Empress of Ghant

Your Majesty

Thank you very much for your condolences. We will mourn deeply all the losses, but most particularly that of General Perrin Pahath-Moab, a great hero, a great friend of the people and my cousin, of course. He will be deeply missed.

Your brother King Michael has been such a comfort to my family and me at this time, and such a steady hand, such a wise and good man, that I am amazed your family allowed him to leave your shores.

I would appreciate it greatly if you would consider preparing your government for the possibility of allied assistance, as my own coutnrymen, led astray by religious fanatics, republican zealots and crazed communists seem to be trying to seize control of the capital. I must confess to my shame too that I fear a mutiny at the highest levels of military command. Though I have loyal warriors such as Generals Hesperinus and Unwerth who will serve, they are not close to the capital. I would appreciate hearing back from you about this.

with deepest respects,
Crown Princess Jocasta

From Royal Highness, Crown Princess Jocasta Obed, on behalf of Her Royal Majesty, Queen Mara Obed I of New Edom
To
Queen Anelyn I of Cacerta

Your Majesty

I write to you as a friend of my country, as a friend to my incapacitated unfortunate sister who is understandably hobbled by grief to irrationality.

At the Treaty of Padan you signed, we agreed to a friendship everlasting. We proved that in helping you, sending an expedition under the heroic Captain Esarhaddon to rescue you from vile rebels.

I would appreciate it greatly if you would consider preparing your government for the possibility of allied assistance, as my own coutnrymen, led astray by religious fanatics, republican zealots and crazed communists seem to be trying to seize control of the capital. I must confess to my shame too that I fear a mutiny at the highest levels of military command. Though I have loyal warriors such as Generals Hesperinus and Unwerth who will serve, they are not close to the capital. I would appreciate hearing back from you about this. If you were to send one of your brave officers to command, Captain Doria perhaps, whose leadership abilities impressed me to no end, I would be most grateful.

with deepest respects,
Crown Princess Jocasta

To: Alessandra Moretti,
Minister of Foreign Affairs
From: Elizabeth Corbulo, Undersecretary for Cornellia
Subject: State of Affairs
Encryption: Delivered in sealed package to embassy

Dear Minister,

I appreciate your letter of concern. Right now while there are demonstrations and protests going on, this is surely the right of a free people. There may be a few criminal incidents but it is nothing that the Municipal Militia cannot handle.

While your offer of military assistance is appreciated, it is not needed. Thank you very kindly for your concern; we have few better allies than Cacerta. It is expected that in a few days plans for national elections will be released.

In friendship

Elizabeth Corbulo, Undersecretary.

To: Ambassador Jacob Lee
From: Elizabeth Corbulo, Undersecretary for Cornellia
Subject: State of Affairs
Encryption: Delivered in sealed package to embassy

Dear Mr. Ambassador,

Thank you very much for your heartfelt condolences. You have been a true friend yourself as has your great and mighty nation to our country in many times of need.

I am advised by my friend and colleague Colleen Fish that we should at the earliest opportunity either have a conference call or ideally face to face meeting in a secure location to discuss the security measures you have suggested. However I will confide to you that we have given orders that communications centers, airports, fuel repositories, food storage areas and power plants be secured by Army and Council Police units. If according to your intelligence assessments we need to serve this better, I would appreciate hearing from you.

Be assured that in all other respects there is every intent of honouring our late President's legacy.

In friendship

Elizabeth Corbulo, Undersecretary.

by **New Hydrenia** » Sat Feb 21, 2015 11:52 pm

"Traitors! Traitors, all of them, just like Arintheos and his cabal! And that damn fool Patakis, who I thought was my loyal confederate! Well, they are dead and I am alive! I am King! I will have order! By God, sir, I will have order!" the King threw at the cabinet the latest evidence against the heads of the National Police and the Royal Guard, Colonels Philopator Samothrakis and Herakles Phocas.

Further the line, the Royal Guards who had proven loyal, under the new commander, Colonel Demetrios Nikiades....his male lover, arrested 3 ministers and 9 deputy ministers in the cabinet council chambers. The charges were serious, as grave as the Kent cabal business, but now from the other end. Like Patakis, who turned out to be a secret republican, these men favored a republic as well, but also sympathized with the Free Congress and intended to meddle in Edomite affairs on the side of any remnants of the Free Congress...madness, as it would plunge New Hydrenia itself into civil war.....Christian vs. Hellenist...not a good outcome likely to happen there.

"I want their trials brief and simple. They will die. Firing squads for each of them. Let's not drag this out. I want to inspect their corpses when this is done. My country will not back those zealots, nor will my government! MY government, men! I am the King! You can stand with me or you can leave! You won't get far, of course. Evander put the government in my hands. Democracy has failed us. Republicanism, socialism, etc. Those are gods that have failed. I am the King! I represent the Crown, and the Crown stands with the House of Obed! However, I will not permit civil war to break out. We will do things properly. Give moral support for precisely the kind of government that we have here....royal dictatorship. Law and order."

The back of all resistance was broken now....at least for now. Power was now in the hands of King Alois I....what had once seemed a charming, if dandyish fellow, almost comical in his giant size, slight lisp, and undeniable, flagrant bisexuality mixed with a remarkably masculine musculature, disturbing ability to seduce and impress women and men alike, high threshold for beer and spirits, and frankly...endowment, was now clearly a royal man of iron. They were calling him the Other Queen behind his back at times past, but now they called him the Giant....and they lived in dread of him. He had proven the secret master of all things.....with only the Queen able to manipulate him at all...he was no typical 22 year old man....

The Giant was king.....and the Giant would not be denied.

To the People of New Edom,

A Proclamation of His Hellenic Majesty, Alois I, by the Grace of God, King of New Hydrenia:

Whereas law and order have been suddenly thrown into tumult and lawlessness by the vultures who seize upon the carcass of the late Interim Government for their own disastrous and fanatical ends, not caring what harm they do to their own Queen and Country, it behooves us, as King of New Hydrenia, to urge upon you the cause of social order, peace, and prosperity. To that end, we offer a loan of 55 million drachmae to the royal House of Obed, to be transferred to the custody of the Heir, Crown Princess Jocasta, herself, and another 45 million to the Minister of Finance, one Count Thomas Lalery, for the purpose of whatever measures might best restore law, order, and stability to the State. We urge you, citizens of New Edom, to submit to lawful authority as ordained by Heaven, rather than the outrages and superstitions of naked zealots. The world is watching. Under Perrin Pahath-Moab, New Edom was a leader, a shining city on a hill. Let that continue and this madness be forgotten.

Kyrie eleison,
His Hellenic Majesty, King Alois of New Hydrenia

by **New Edom** » Sun Feb 22, 2015 12:22 am

Hydra, New Hydrenia

Queen Olivia's first impulse had been do dance in joy and urinate on Perrin Pahath-Moab's portrait, but that would have to come later. She had learned some patience since coming.

Recent correspondence with her brother had revealed that all was at last falling into place. Her husband was purging his own realm of traitors and republicans and communists...the true government of monarchism would rise in more and more nations.

"My love," she said to her husband after he had sent his last messages, "I am so touched that you so well act as my birth nation's ally and family friend...and my brother Count Lalery is grateful of your dear care of me. I wonder though...have you considered the danger my young cousin is in? She cannot trust the generals and admirals...and I fear that there are too many nations in the Region of Cornellia invested in the Free Congress. If we were to act swiftly, we could guarantee her loyal troops apart from her own Guard, and thus grant her a greater measure of security." her eyes shone as she looked at him, her olive skin glowing with good health, as usual wearing a gown that hinted at her curves but showed her full bountiful cleavage to advantage, the colour of her dress a deep green. "Not a vast army, but enough...not to threaten the sense of safety of the people, but enough to protect the Heir and those around her. My brother has suggested a composite force of aviation, light armour, infantry and a little artillery. An offer. She may well accept..."

by **Damoclea** » Sun Feb 22, 2015 12:57 am

The Magistrates had fallen. The sympathetic Judges no longer trusted their lack of will. Now, the regime had been turned over to a new leader. The Reverend Amos Moses, in fact. A devout convert to the newest incarnation of Christianity to sweep South Damoclea....the Church of the Sword, Right Hand, and Voice of God, Moses had taken command of the leadership of the Church itself, exploited frustration with the failure of the last Rising to gain proper traction, and preached a new Gospel, as thrilling as it was terrifying.

Now in power, due to the collapse of the New Covenant Church and the Magistrates from power, Moses had proven quite capable of worldly planning as well, mobilizing a force of 8 divisions for his purposes, the first three preparing the shock wave that was hit to his intended target like what he himself called "The Fist of Jehovah God". Moses was a man built to impress and terrify other men, his Greymarker ancestry evident in both his heresies and his incredible height. Only his slanted eyes and yellowish brown skin indicated Damoclean origins at all. His hair was jet-black, but his eyes blazed with a green fury that must have truly astonished all who saw him.

"Very well, now....we will not lack the resolve of our predecessors. The day of Judges is over. The day of the Righteous Judge in Heaven, the Lord God Jehovah, will never end. I have set my government and its path in the course of the Lord of Hosts! The zeal of His house has eaten me up! At any rate...you have with you, in man's terms, a force of three divisions, some 10,000 men and women each, for a force of 30,000 men and women committed to serve as the Sword of the Lord God Almighty. You have with you a force of tanks, of artillery, of mechanized infantry, of gunships, of light infantry, and a small squadron of aging fighters, but useful nonetheless. MiG-27s. Are you ready to strike?" he demanded of his commanders, including the General-in-Chief, General Alexion.

"Yes, Brother Amos, we are. We will sweep these exhausted and confused Edomites and their allies before us. They are not expecting an attack at this time, are they? Let us bring the wrath and judgment of the Lord upon them! God has judged and condemned their proud Boy General, now He will bring us victory! We propose to strike along the same path, but off the main highways and byways. We will move under cover of night and strike without warning. I expect to reach Pelias by noon of the 7th day. When that happens, we will attack right away, without any chance to prepare for our arrival....we will not let them wonder for long about us, even if they see us at all in time."

"Very well, then....the air strikes to move in conjunction with the first gunship raids....hammer them with full force. We could do it sooner, but that would spoil the surprise. By the time that the air strikes come, it will be too late to anticipate it," Amos insisted.

"Naturally. We will avenge the Brigade...."

"No, but God will for us....vengeance is His and He will show no mercy at all," Amos smiled without mirth...it was the smile of a panther, ready to strike.

And with those orders, the forces began to move out toward their goal....Pelias.....it might take time, but they would not stop short of victory. God was with them, so who could be against them? Three divisions of men and women, ready to strike a blow for Jehovah.

With a song of battle and brotherhood on their lips....

IIwiki Admin · by **Ghant** » Sun Feb 22, 2015 1:19 am

Fineberg, New Edom

Michael sat in his room alone, working on some strategies for his Kerbasi set. Well, it wasn't supposed to be his. His sister had gotten it made for Perrin, and sent it to Michael to give to him as a gift. With Perrin gone, Michael kept it for himself. It was a beautiful set in truth, with onyx and alabaster pieces and a board to match. The only real difference with the set was that instead of dragons, there were griffins, intricately carved.

He had a unique strategy. He kept his griffin in the castle, and surrounded it with cavalry pieces, while his siege pieces would go at the back of the board. In order to get through the cavalry, one would have to attack with an excess of soldier pieces. Or another griffin. He wondered who might play him...who would be interested. He didn't know if anyone at the palace was a Kerbasi player, but it wasn't hard to learn...

He couldn’t move his griffin out of the castle, lest the castle be easily taken. So he left it back and advanced his cavalry line. Sophia played that way too, always keeping her dragon in the castle and only moving it when the game favored her...What the fuck is that? Michael thought as he heard some commotion coming from outside. A tad irritated at that, he pushed himself up from his table and he went to pull back the curtain to look out the window…

What he saw blew his mind. Chaos of the highest order. Cavalry charging, war machines advancing, against a swarm of people. It looked like something out of a dream…a bad one at that. It send shivers down his spine, a sense of tension and worry swelling within his body. He could feel his skin grow cold and the gooseprickles emerge. Holy fucking shit. There was at that point really only one thing on his mind. Jocasta. He had to seek her out and see to her safety and that of the others.

Jocasta, in a long white dress, stared out the window; to her it looked like a maelstrom of chaos, white clouds billowing, horsemen charging, machines growing forward, but the Guardsmen looked like a small force against a sea of humanity. She felt sick. Her mother was right, they were scum, vermin. Bitter tears stood in her eyes. Her uncle Mark had been right all along.

“Jocasta…Highness…darling..” Camilla nearly weeping was beside her. “My husband can evacuate us.”

“Why can’t our own people do that?” Jocasta demanded, turning to Falk. He shook his head.

“Highness, I was informed by General Benajah that there is nothing that they can do at this time. The…”

She stared at him. “What?”

Falk said, taking a deep breath, “Highness, the Air Force detachment at MDF refuses to prepare their helicopters to come here. The Chiefs of Staff feel that the military’s neutrality and insistence on following procedure should not be…”

Jocasta lowered her eyes a moment. “Traitors. They are traitors. Is anyone loyal?”

“General Hesperinus, General Unwerth, are both loyal, Highness, but they are not close. It would take each of them several hours to bring any military forces to bear.” Count Falk said, looking like he was ready to be sick.

“I will not flee my own capital,” Jocasta said firmly. “But the King Consort, Mama, and you, Camilla, must go. You may tell General Harper that. And Dr. Aphek, Count Falk, please advise General Hesperinus and General Unwerth that I will award with the rank of Chief of the General Military Staff whichever of them brings a force sufficient to secure Fineberg most quickly and ably. I will remain here until they do.” She smiled faintly.

Michael had arrived by this time and heard most of this conversation. Dr. Aphek cleared his throat when she had stopped speaking. “I beg Your Highness’ pardon: the King Consort is here.”

“Oh Michael,” Jocasta said, her face softening. “How good you are here. Did you hear what was discussed?”

“...Yes.” Michael answered sadly. “You need to leave. The dynasty depends upon your safety and survival, neither of which can be guaranteed, I don’t think. You have to consider what is at stake here.”

“How will it look if I leave, frightened off by the likes of them?”Jocasta said, flushing. “It is unthinkable, routed by them. And look, see, my Cavalry Guards sweep them from the streets like gutter refuse. I have given instructions that Generals Unwerth and Hesperinus should come to our assistance as well.”

“It won’t look as bad if you go and I remain...if only for a bit.” Michael lamented. “If the situation is secured you can return. If not...well, you will be glad that they didn’t get their hands on you. As for me...I will face them if they storm the Palace. That is what I am thinking, anyway. I fear that aid might come too late.”

Jocasta had tears in her eyes. “Dear Michael. You are so good to me. I will never forget that you said this to me. But...my decision is irrevocable. I will remain in Fineberg unless there is no alternative.”

“Then my place is here as well, for I will not abandon you.” Michael told her with misty eyes as he reached out to take her hand.

Jocasta held it a long moment, and then said, “Count Falk, see that Mama, Camilla and the list of staff I have put down are ready to go…” and Camilla interrupted, sobbing, and taking her other hand.

“Entreat me not to leave you,” she wept. “I am only torn because of my husband...but Jocasta, please...I will stay if you will.”

“No,” Jocasta said to her softly. “Countess Jabbok will stay here, and you will go. You won’t disobey now will you?” she touched Camilla’s face and said, “Dearest heart, you must go. When the Shalumites arrive, go with them. I will be fine. I will face my destiny, whatever it is, as my father did, and my uncle Mark before him. I am my father’s daughter, I am not afraid of anything.”

Count Falk lifted the weeping, unwilling Camilla and drew her from the room. Jocasta turned back to the window and watched as the Cavalry Guards swept the last of the protesters from the streets around the palace, and smiled, raising her hand in a classical salute.

“You are very brave, Jocasta.” Michael said as he looked out the window. “Your father would be proud of you, I think.” Michael thought for a moment more. “Would you like to hear a poem?”

Jocasta gloriously smiled at him. “That would be lovely Michael...you are so multi talented, please do, it would pass the time while I wait for these reports and responses to my letters.”

Michael smiled as he held her hand, and then he told her the poem from Ghant.

“To walk amidst the beauty
Of Nature's changing hues
Spreading colors of the rainbow
From oranges to blues

Sweet scents from spring to summer
Of winter and of fall
A sense of peace and longing
An echo to flora's call

The leaves and flowers swaying
In a soft and gentle breeze
A moment of sheerest wonder
For our memories to freeze

Let not a moment go to waste
A chance for eyes to see
What is there in front of us
A gift for you and me

Life is for the taking
To do with what we will
Knowing that it will go on
As we take in all our fill

To bask in golden sunshine
Feel rain upon our face
To know that we are blessed
To share God’s earthly place

So protect all nature's bounty
And nurture with loving care
A place for generations
To flourish and to share

So it is that life goes on
And the world learns
And always remember
The Season Turns”

by **New Edom** » Sun Feb 22, 2015 1:20 am

Sixington Gloria Regis

General Zadok Hesperinus had greeted his lovely doll-wife and little bundle of joy, and was prepared to really start the day when he heard the news from Fineberg. He chuckled and said to Olympia as she sat across from him at the breakfast table, "So, the Heir thinks she can pit me against that strutting popinjay Unwerth and instil competition? Well it will work, because I will beat him to Fineberg. I want the 104th Infantry loaded onto Kaztlans within the hour and moved with all heavy equipment to Finberg," he said to his ADC. "Have the Adjutant-General draw up the orders and report to me here. My little wife," he said gravely to Olympia, "Cover our little one and take him and yourself away. This martial talk will bruise you and he."

Olympia lowered her lovely dark eyes. "As my husband commands."

Hesperinus beckoned her, patting her hair and face gently, holding her on his lap a moment, "Does my little doll wife know husband loves her?"

"Yes, my husband," she murmured demurely.

"Yes, my little precious one. Off with you now, go press flowers in your housebook, go plan a walk with your lady friends in the garden and talk of pretty things." Hesperinus smiled and kissed her delicate ear, and very gently patted her rump through her soft lacy pink dress. Olympia obediently left with her nurse and his infant son.

Later on, he vigorously was enjoying himself with Countess Clodia Falk, his earthy, red haired Cornellian mistress, wearing most of his parade dress uniform except for the trousers lowered to his riding boots, she naked but for jewelry, her plump backside quivering delightfully as he made use of what made her female from behind on his four poster bed, her mammarial glory swaying and bouncing, her face flushed. There was a buzz on his phone, and he picked it up without missing a stride. "Hesperinus," he barked. "Eh?" he paused, the main noise in the room a wet slapping noise. "Yes, send him in."

"Hey..." Clodia protested. Not that it was the first time he had exposed his lust for her in front of his staff since this appointment. Her protests were often merely words. He suspected she liked it, liked showing off. He grinned, gave her such a slap her flesh leaped, and she gave a sharp cry of outrage but also pushed back harder.

Major-General Andreas Sheba came in, and his eyes widened but he said nothing, his boot heel coming down sharply; he too in parade dress, sweeping his cap off. "Excellency."

"Well? Are we in readiness? What was so important you came yourself, eh?" Hesperinus grunted, working his blushing mistress.

"Sir...the Naval Air Station went quiet for a bit, then we found from the Air Force Base at Iphigenia, from Colonel Toothacher, that there was what seemed to be a large carrier force exercise. But...we received this message from the fleet."

He held it out, and Hesperinus growled, "Read it man, read it..."

General Sheba cleared his throat. "As you say sir.

WE are the sisters of the Feminist Collective. In the name of justice and truth, we will no longer stand for tyranny imposed by military dictatorship, for the military should serve nation and people not the other way around.

Accordingly, in the Name of the People of New Edom and Gloria Regis, we have seized the fleet attached to carrier Teman, and demand the following:

1. That the military dictatorship known as the government of General Zadok Hesperinus should stand down and allow the people of Gloria Regis to accept the return of their Feminist Collective and Communist Party brothers and sisters from exile.

2. That all military rule of the island should cease and all function of government return to the civilian government elected last year.

3. That all military personnel attached to the Army and Air Force shall remain on base and undertake no hostile activity, or they will be fired upon by the naval forces loyal to the civilian government of the properly elected authorities.

4. Further negotiations will be conducted under terms later set.

Ignore these demands and we will immediately reduce the Army and Navy bases to rubble.

"It is signed among others by Commander Clytemnestra Hortensius..." continued Sheba, but Hesperinus held up a hand.

"Alright, I want a meeting of senior officers immediately, we will explore options. Let us communicate with Fineberg." He continued, to Sheba's surprise, to couple with Clodia, who was squirming and saying,

"Zadok, Zadok this is an emergency, I need to call Toby at once..."

"Actually they cut the communications to the mainland." Sheba said.

"Then we'll get an encryption whiz kid to patch in to a satellite," said Hesperinus quickly. "Do I have to do everything? And shut up, Clodia, you'll get a chance to talk to Toby. I want to talk to him too...ah...yes, move like that. Alright Sheba, run along. This is New Edom. We don't just flinch when someone mutinies, we live in the shit and rise above it. Move, man, move! And you move too woman..."

IIwiki Admin · by **Ghant** » Sun Feb 22, 2015 1:33 am

by **New Hydrenia** » Sun Feb 22, 2015 1:55 am

Alois looked at his pretty wife and laughed....she was transparent of late, but that wasn't too surprising. She had begun to enjoy her power, her influence, and for the most part, he indulged her. Why not? She was his good lady wife and she treated him like the King that he was. It was hard not to indulge her. Still, he was the King, the lord, the husband....the Herr....master. His role was to rule. He wasn't going to be ruled.

Still.....a chance to defend a sweet girl like Jocasta, protect his investment in marriage to Olivia, make Thomas beholden to him....and assert royal power at last. Yes, very tempting.

"A division, then. One division of marines. A strike force of a light carrier with Harriers, one cruiser, two destroyers, four frigates, one submarine, and six corvettes. I will summon Metaxas and give him his marching orders. The division will have light Scorpion tanks, IFVs, APCs, mortars...and gunships. Will that suffice? Nothing more for now. Just a force to protect the House of Obed, my wife's family, and any and all innocent civilians endangered by this disorder. If necessary, they should be prepared to evacuate, of course. Will Jocasta, your cousin accept that offer?"

The King could have sent more, per Olivia's request, but he didn't want her to control the movements of his military....he would do this much, justifying it to protect his family, but he refused to directly fight in the war....yet.

Still, he had to give her a sense of her importance and influence with him, of course.....not let her catch on that he was onto her and mostly deferred to her to humor her out of his affection for her.

"So, would you like to help me draft such a letter, my dear wife?" he smiled at her.

by **Seelelander** » Sun Feb 22, 2015 2:13 am

The Estate Clinic
Padan-Aran Estate

Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain read his message again, aghast. He could not escape either, it seemed; he had just gone for a swim to relax and then found a set of orders from Jocasta, advising him that he was to hand over his position as Royal Master of Offices to Colonel Marcus Josephus, and was grateful, etc etc. Furthermore, he had been informed that for her safety and peace of mind, well being, etc, Mara was to be moved immediately to the clinic at the Soladrid Isles.

It was for that reason that he was fuming, but he didn’t bother to curse anyone out. Leaks happened, he had no idea how, but he blamed himself mostly. He had talked to a bunch of people he barely knew in a room he had not really secured.

What he did do was get dressed in a casual set of cream slacks, blue dress shirt, loafers, and called the shrinks and Father Emmaeus to him. He felt distracted by the urge for a drink and the company of a mistress, but he suppressed this. It occurred to him that he was afraid to see Mara now. He waited by the eight shaped pool, under a large umbrella, fig and palm trees lightly blowing around the recreation area, blue and green tiles around it, a tray of lemonade with ice in the jug and glasses around it, his untouched.

It was then that Doctor Rezanic could spot the pool from a distance and she let out a sigh, as she carefully took a glimpse over the water for a moment, lost in thought, or so it appeared. She took to the shade as she stepped toward Enoch, calmed as she stepped over the Prince, aware he was likely feeling stress as well, she considered perhaps giving him a prescription, but this would not be the easiest one to fill, as the situation was rapidly spinning out of control. Her soft green eyes rest upon Enoch for a moment, and she said nothing and waited to be addressed, not wishing to tempt his anger.

Weinstein approached the pool with a look of concern on his face. In addition to what was going to happen shortly, he had other issues. Now Iris had joined Ron’s pleas for him to get out of New Edom, keeping him informed of every last update the 24 hour news cycle had on the country. Now there were protests in Fineberg as they spoke. Not only that, he had to hope everything would go smoothly at customs in Seelelander, a country he had never visited and hadn’t planned on going to. Glancing at Enoch and Amyris, he inclined his head to the prince and gave his colleague a small nod.

Father Emmaeus bowed. “Your Serene Highness.”

Prince Enoch looked up at him. “Father. Doctors. Well, we have less time than we thought. Apparently somehow the Heir found out about our conversation yesterday. And there is trouble in Fineberg. She has...the Heir has...said it is Soledad Isles immediately. However...I want this intervention to happen. Now. I want to have us talk to her. Now. I want a bullet point advice from each of you.”

Father Emmaeus looked down sadly. “Sir...all her life she has been surrounded by tragedy. We mortals are impatient. You love her as few at court do. I urge you to give her time…”

Enoch shook his head sharply. “We do not have time, Father. Doctors?”

“Be sincere, express concerns you have for her openly, share the pain you both share, come to a deep understanding that when the mind is in pain, sometimes the greatest comfort is to know you are not alone.” Amyris said as she looked over at Father Emmaeus.

“Be careful not to blame or imply any blame is on her, try not to guilt her. Assure her that this isn’t her fault, and that things will get better,” Weinstein added.

Father Emmaeus reluctantly nodded. “The doctors have the right of it. I...Prince Enoch, I am ashamed that there was a leak. I did not know. I do not know who is responsible…”

“Who knows. Maybe it was the damned CP,” said Enoch bitterly. “Come. Let us do it now then. No time like the present, eh?” he got up. He looked at them, and for a moment he was suddenly, briefly, simply a young man in his late twenties, given rank beyond his experience, with a terrible family emergency. “Be near, be ready to help me.” he said softly.

“Right behind you, Your Highness.” Amyris said as she looked around the area, and she began to become hypersensitive, knowing only now that there was a leak, and this feeling unsettled her, as there appeared to be no one who had set off the fears or gave off the vibe that there was a spy. Further there was also no mark that there was anything at all to be mistrusted by anyone within that room. She tried to recall to the last detail of her mind who was within the room when they had the discussion with Enoch, and she prepared herself mentally to swiftly evacuate the area.

Nodding in agreement with Enoch, Weinstein followed them. The Adiran had his own suspicions on the leak. He knew who stood to gain, or who thought he stood to gain the most from embarrassing Rezanic and himself. He knew who had openly, unabashedly called them quacks and who disbelieved their methodology. He knew whose toes he’d been stepping on from the start, seeing how his own therapeutic methods were ineffective and likely counterproductive. Rezanic’s suspicions had not been aroused because deep down she had every bit of piousness and faith in the goodness of intentions from the clergy, instead her suspicions rest for a moment, upon the Consort of the Queen, and she began to wonder if perhaps eliminating the queen was a way to assert power, and eliminating her was taking out the loose end. There was also the fear that behind it all there was a horrible monster hiding behind false crocodile tears, for who stood to gain the most from Her Majesty being declared unfit to rule, and she grit her teeth thinking of the thought that perhaps the court intrigues were much worse than Rezanic had imagined.

The residency area of the Palace had an air of quiet about it, as though it had been all but abandoned. While it was clean, it could be seen that a lot of the furniture was covered in white draped cloth, and the ticking of a hallway clock or the sound of a servant padding through a room near a hallway they went down seemed sharp and distinct. They passed a workout room with an upright punching bag, yoga mats, a treadmill, weight rack with weights all different colours of pink, green, blue and red. A music room with a keyboard, guitars on the walls, huge bright blue speakers. Somewhere they heard Precious shrilly yapping, then the noise became indistinct.

They came to an outer room where the slim fair Elwe maid, Tegan, lay nude like an odalisque in her pose on a cream and brown day bed, rising as though expecting them and bowing, then saying soflty, “O Sir, oh Prince Enoch, she will see no one. She ate only a little soup, only drank a little mint tea...it held down but she complains of gas and fuzzy headedness…”

Enoch touched her mouth gently. “Tegan, she will see me if I must break down the door.”

However he found it open. Mara did not react. The room was neat. It contained a large four poster white bed, a slim dressing table, folding changing screens painted with scenes of elegant Hostillian birds (golden pheasants and oriental quail), a tiny identical bed for Precious, a media area with a large flat screen TV and stereo, DVD. Posters on the wall showed advertisements for the Skyfarms and Aquaponics, as well as posters for bands like Travesty and LAZY. A full length mirror was on one wall. The room smelled of sick under the scent of patchouli. Mara lay on the bed facing away, wearing only a pink tank top and green lacy panties.

“Mara, it’s me,” said Enoch softly. Mara did not stir.

Weinstein desperately looked for signs of movement or reaction. Rezanic took a glance to see if she was breathing, checking for rising and falling of the chest, if she did not see them, she was prepared to step in immediately to administer rescue breathing, and while she would do so she’d get Wienstein to check her pulse but if that were the case, and she hoped it wouldn’t be the case.

“Your Majesty, I have come with medicine to settle your stomach, it is likely to make you sleepy for a while, so I recommend you take it before we leave, it will make travel easier.” Doctor Rezanic said cuing the inevitable question if the Queen was not yet informed, but it was just as likely she already knew.

Mara shfited a bit, and stretched and slowly sat up, her dark hair tumbling messily down, strands around her face, and looked at them as though they were speaking an unknown tongue, her face creased with sleep, her eyes dark circled, no makeup leaving her face looking vulnerable and raw. “Doctor Weinstein, Doctor Rezanic. How good of you to come,” she said softly. “I am afraid I am a trifle indisposed. Would you be good enough to return at another time?”

“Mara…” said Enoch helplessly.

Father Emmaeus bowed his head.

“It would please me if Her Majesty would take this before I grant Her Majesty her privacy, but I must impress upon, My Queen that I fear she is currently at risk for suicide.” Doctor Rezanic said openly. “This is why taking these new medicines will be very important.” She removed the mood stabilizers and the medicine for the upset stomach, taking great effort to make it gentle, but least risky to take.

“We...both fear that, Your Majesty,” Weinstein concurred gravely.

Mara sighed. “It makes no difference. Nothing comes to any good. Everyone I love is dead or dying. There is nothing I can really rely on. If I care about something it is cursed.” her voice sounded nearly dead, there were no tears in her eyes. “Let Jocasta run things, she wants to. I don’t. I don’t care anymore.”

“Your Majesty, we are all here because we care about you. Those things that you said, you want something to rely on, you want your life to have some good to come, there is no end to the good you can potentially do, but first, you will need to be well, My Queen. This will need to come first and foremost.” Rezanic said reassuringly.

“Sometimes when things seem to be at their worst, it takes a little time for things to get better, but they always do get better,” Weinstein added.

Mara said quietly, “What do you know about it? Nothing. It’s just a bunch of words. I don’t want any more medicine, or any more therapy, or anything. You are all better off without me. Doctor Rezanic, Doctor Weinstein, you have families you love. Go to them before my country goes into chaos and murder again. Let my body be the penance for the sins of my family, let my blood water the earth and redeem our poor soil. Enough.”

“Your Majesty,” Weinstein said, “You are not alone. We’re here because we want to help. We want to see you get better.”

Enoch licked his lips, stepped forward, and knelt beside the bed and took her hand. He cleared his throat and softly sang. It sounded a bit atonal at first, as though it was perhaps a recitative or something.

“They say they follow the Lord's will
still their torture, still they'd kill
to take you from your rightful throne
they say you’re cursed, they say you’re weak
A broken soul. A shattered life
They think you stand bereft, alone
Let them try:
while they run with the pack
Hold their breaths
For the day you come back
Enough, no more!
Their greed and their want
they don't even know
the woman they moved
as if a woman
can love on demand
accept her life
is already planned
there is no demon inside
just a woman full of pride
for your hopes haven’t died!” he gently lifted her and aimed her at the mirror, and continued to sing. He gently pulled her hair a bit from her face, and though she flinched and tried to move away, he held her firmly by her bare shoulders, and sang,

look... look...
look, its Mara there…
too young to die
Look to the sky
See that you live
yes! You’re Mara dear!
a woman who knows
how evil grows
yet can forgive
soon they will see
a woman can choose to be free
they all look for someone to blame
but I swear it aloud, you will be proud that
Mara Obed’s your name…

Mara said wistfully, “Enoch, Enoch, first I trusted Mama and Papa...I was sold at the altar...then I trusted Michael…” she looked pointedly at Rezanic, and Rezanic lowered her gaze, “And he betrayed my trust...and then Perrin..Oh God…” she suddenly had her face crumple. “And he’s gone. And you know how I…” Enoch held her. “I know,”

“I loved him so much,” Mara said softly. Tears formed in her eyes. “He’s gone. The best man I ever knew, and he’s gone. How can I continue? My heart yearns, but it hurts because everything turns to dust…”

“It’s not all gone, there’s still hope, and what needs to be said is you have been facing an unimaginable amount of pain, but it is not insurmountable. You have not had the time, nor resources to cope, no time to grieve, no time to talk about things when they mattered. Now we’re giving you all the time you need, and we are all ears, and it is not too late.” Amyris said with a dry crack in her voice.

“This is not your fault, Your Majesty. None of it is, and nobody thinks it is,” Weinstein said. “You’ve witnessed one tragedy after another. It is normal to feel what you’re feeling now...but it will get better, and we want to help you get away from all this. Where you can finally have enough time to grieve, to cope, to process everything.”

“You will be able to lay down your burdens, to speak about everything you’ve kept bottled up inside, and not be criticized for it, because we are here for you, and we want to be. If your choice is to stay here, and wait, I will stay, but I believe it is your desire to live because, the dead feel no relief, and I sense what you really want is relief from the near constant pains.” Doctor Rezanic said as she resolved herself to this decision.

Mara looked away from her disheveled image in the mirror at the doctors. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“I offer a chance for you to feel happiness, and a chance to become the Queen you have always desired to be. What you decide, is what I will abide by.” Amyris said as she looked over at Enoch.

“I won’t leave your side either, Your Majesty. I said before that it’s a code, but there’s more than that. It’s because I know things get better, no matter how bad they might seem. I have seen it, and I promise you I will do everything in my power to see you well again,” Weinstein said.

Mara looked at them and said in wonder, “You would both stay with me, even though I would release you to go home? But why? There would be no shame in this, I am not your queen, this is not your country.”

“Your Majesty, when I look at you, I do not see a queen, or my career, or a country,” Weinstein replied gravely. “I see a patient. I see a young woman who has bore more pain than any one person should have to bear. I see someone who deserves to be well again, and I know that I can set her on that path.”

“That we would leave an ailing patient to harm would be against our principles, our morals, and personal beliefs. Furthermore, I believe in you. I stay because I believe in your ability to make the right decision, and I also believe that deep down you know that you deserve a chance to feel happiness and relief. Tell me, Your Majesty, do you desire to feel relief, and happiness?”

Mara shrugged. “I have no idea...I think so...but it feels dead inside when I think of it. But...Papa would want me to carry on...I cannot abandon my people when they are confused and suffering, no matter how I feel. If you will all help me...I can maybe get through it. I feel so tired…”

“We will do whatever we have to,” Enoch said. It tormented him that she looked so hesitantly at her own reflection.

Mara smiled at him gently. “Enoch...dearest Enoch...you brought these people to help, and Father, you did too, even though you resist them…” she laughed softly. “What an army I have. I...I can do that at least. I can try to get well.” some strange resolve seemed to take place in her. She said at first, self consciously, nodding towards the mirror. “Look...look….” she ran a hand through her disheveled hair. Then she sang, in a voice made hoarse from disuse,

“look, it’s Mara there…
Father, I’m brave
and from your grave
you'll keep me strong
yes. It’s Mara there!
for they will learn
when I return
that I belong
soon they will see
that I can choose to be free
they’ll say look, look at what she became
but I swear it aloud, I will be proud I'm
Mara Obed!
They’ll say look, look at what she became
but I swear it aloud, I will be proud that
Mara Obed is my name.”

Amyris bowed and kneeled before the Queen and she paid obeisance to the Queen of New Edom, as she offered a prayer inwardly, and spoke aloud the words. “God Save the Queen!” As she waited for Enoch to command her, she prepared for aiding Mara as needed.

Weinstein smiled softly, moving to help Rezanic when his colleague dropped to her knees. Put on the spot a bit, he wound up mirroring her, perhaps with a bit less practice given his origins. “God Save the Queen…” he repeated.

Enoch rose and bowed his head. “My beloved cousin, I recommend that you let your doctors bring you to better physical health. I am told it will help with your moods and alertness, and in the meantime I will do my best, along with those loyal to you, to keep you safe.”

“I entreat Your Majesty to do the same,” said Father Emmaeus, “And accept that God’s forgiveness is eternal. Though He wields a mighty hand and outstretched arm, He is good, and His mercy endureth forever.”

Mara turned and put her arms around him a moment, kissing him on the cheek, and said “Rise please. I am grateful for your devotion and loyalty. We’ll begin today.”

by **Hittanryan** » Sun Feb 22, 2015 4:11 am

Adiran Consulate
Sixington, Gloria Regis

"Nothing..." Consul Cary Singleton said to the room, putting the phone down. That was their last real hope. They'd tried Internet, cell phones, tried those in different parts of the city. Next was the secure landline, and now the satellite phone. It was all down, and it all went down not long after Perrin's death. They had all just been trying to read about the Cabinet appointments when they lost contact with the mainland, and then they noticed they had lost contact with everyone altogether.

The rest of the embassy looked on. Water in one of the aides' glasses was trembling; when he went to take a sip, trying to act casual, a drip spilled down its side. Julia folded her arms, seemed to almost shiver, lost in thought. They remembered the violence from last year, when the shoe had been on the other foot. When it was Perrin sending in the troops to crush the rampaging militias. Now...there was no one to stop them, and they remembered who had the stick last time. They also knew Governor Hesperinus had continued a tireless manhunt to crush whatever remained.

"So...we're totally cut off..." the aide with the water glass said, "...again. This wasn't supposed to happen again, Consul. We were supposed to get warning, consul."

"If you came to Gloria Regis expecting stability, someone sold you a bill of goods," another aide replied coldly.

"We should contact the governor," Cary said authoritatively, cutting the squabbling off before it started. If you kept stressed people busy, sometimes they were just distracted enough to stay functional. "Do the phones on the island still work at least?"

"What if they don't?" the water glass man whined.

"I don't care what you have to do, go knock on Hesperinus' door for all I care. We just can't stay in the dark like last time, got it?" Singleton said, starting to get irritated with the man's defeatism. They had to do something.

As the rest of the staff cleared out, Cary walked over to his wife and held her. "It'll be all right. We'll find out what's happening," he said, rubbing her shoulders. She nodded, clearly worried. "Go, you had a date planned, right? With your friend?"

Foreign Ministry
Fineberg, New Edom

Wendy was making progress, making her way towards the government district. It got more difficult as she went along, however, and not just because she had the misfortune to bump into some foreigners who didn't keep their eyes to themselves. It became increasingly difficult to avoid the crowds moving through the streets without getting swept up by them. If she wound up in some kind of riot, all bets were off. Besides, she couldn't help but notice how close all those naked bodies were together. She might have been willing to let people see her. To be rubbing up against other naked bodies was something else entirely.

She took a circuitous route, sometimes stopping to take pictures and video with her phone. It took her near Betharan Palace, but she was between a rock and a hard place. If she hadn't continued on when she had, she wouldn't have looked like she was just going about her business, and possibly pulled into a dense crowd headed for Victory Square. She could hear the voices of hundreds, maybe even thousands, assaulting the walls of the Palace.

That's about when some idiot panicked or something. Someone got jumpy and made a bad call, someone tripped or slipped. The details were unknown to Wendy, but the details wouldn't change a goddamn thing. Suddenly she heard something pounding the ground...hooves. Mounted police were moving into the square. There was some kind of crashing sound amidst the din; she wasn't even close enough to see where the protestors had massed. Then...thumps and pops. Teargas. They were trying to break it up. Just break it up as if it wouldn't touch off the third civil war.

Cursing whoever was stupid enough to let an 18 year old girl pick Cabinet ministers in a civil war-torn nation, she quickened her pace, briefly having to adjust to running in her current state. Emerging from a side street, it was already too late to bypass the mess entirely. She could see rocks being hurled at the police, improvised weapons in the hands of some, cars being flipped, masks granting some relief from the gas so they could stand their ground. She had to get out of this...quickly.

Looking for a place that might be spared the coming wrath, eventually she saw a church, a small group ducking inside for cover. Her intuition said they'd been caught up in events too. They weren't staying to fight and they weren't outright fleeing the scene in fear of the authorities.

Ducking inside, she instinctively checked behind her to see if she was being followed, if the rioters were going to use this as their next position. She had to hope they wouldn't. Breathing slightly heavily, she came face to face with a stocky man with a truly impressive...presence. She assumed there was a lucky girl somewhere. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she said to Tim "What happened? All of a sudden..." she said, catching her breath. "Is it just the Palace?"

by **Cacerta** » Sun Feb 22, 2015 10:51 am

Victory Square
Fineberg, New Edom
Rebecca had joined the crowd moving through the city of Fineberg, stripped down to blend in with the people around her and chanting as part of the crowd. Their grievances were reasonable, democratic elections and demanding to see their Queen -- who had retreated from public life now for some time. They were outrage at the appointments made by her younger sister as it appeared she wasn't planning on following Perrin's legacy. It amazed Rebecca to see how the New Edomites truly felt, pent up energy that had been kept bottled up under Perrin's boot heel.

Originally, she had not planned to be part of the march and had wanted to observe instead. Her instincts, however, told her otherwise -- believing she could probably find more information in chatting with other members of the rally which she would not have been able to do through observation alone. So far, Rebecca had not been given the chance to get someone one-on-one, the people were so into the whole thing.

Everything happened rather quickly and Rebecca tried to act as fast she could when she began to see clouds rising towards the front. There were too many people around her and the clamor when the tear gas hit was unbelievable. She covered her face with her hands as she felt the crowd began to retreat, trying to follow them as best she could, eventually coming to the entrance of a church and stumbling inside -- coughing.

Davion Citadel
Fumicino, Lombardo, The Kingdom of Cacerta
Anelyn had called for this meeting the moment Alessandra had come to her room bearing her letter from Elizabeth Corbulo. It had been delayed in its arrival, having been delivered to the embassy where Ambassador Fonda had sent it with the utmost urgency. Putting each letters' content side by side made it clear that there was division in New Edom. Jocasta -- the regent acting in Mara's stead -- asks for military assistance. Elizabeth -- a member of the old government and their connection to who remained -- did not. With the multiple members of her staff, loyal to have followed her to Fumicino, Anelyn intended to find out where their loyalties would lie.

It was early in the morning and an ocean mist still hung over the city, giving it the illusion that its tall towers rose above the clouds. Anelyn, dressed in nothing but her small House Sarissita necklace, was making her way through the blue-carpeted hallways of the Davion Citadel toward the Conference room. Her sister, Arianna, had only managed to get her sword belt on before she had to quickly follow Anelyn out. It was rare to see her sister so worked up -- she hadn't been this way since she had been reinstated following the October Coup. Maybe it hit close to home. Arianna thought, Seeing those protests, like the ones we had here when Damien was in charge.

The two sisters were the first to arrive in the conference room which was still being prepared by members of the staff. It was a very plain room with the only decorations being a pair of House Sarissita and House Davion banners to one side. The walls were painted a smooth shade of Cacertian blue with a white tile roof above. It was furnished with a number of rolling, black leather chairs and a large oak conference table, polished to a mirror-shine. Another table, with numerous drinks and small snacks, had been prepared for the meeting -- it was anticipated that this would not be the only time they would be in here for the day.

Mila came in next with a handful of folders clutched underneath one arm and a cup of tea in the other. Her hair was loose, lacking the characteristic pony-tail she normally wore, and she was dressed in a tank top and a pair of boy shorts. Mila bowed to the Queen and greeted her a good morning before handing her one of the folders. As usual, it was a plain manila folder with a small SISMI stamp in its top left corner.

Soon after, Alessandra and Henrietta came in followed by Elettra and a number of her naval officers. Anelyn recognized Hanna Doria and Aurora Davion among them. There was a brief moment where everyone greeted each other before they took their seats and began.

"Has Mara been declared mad?" Anelyn was quick to ask, tapping her fingers against the polished, oak conference table, "And when I say that, has it been publicly, medically announced that she is unfit to rule? If so, how have I missed this news?"

"No, Your Highness, she has not been declared unfit," Mila stated, looking at her Queen, "She has retreated from the public eye, sure, but there has been no formal declaration of her lack of ability to rule the Allied States. As far as we're concerned, her sister is acting and making these decisions of her own will -- likely under the advice of others."

"Perhaps she's being manipulated, perhaps she is not." Henrietta chimed in. "What is clear is that the people are not happy with her or the decisions she's making."

"Should we send our military in, then? By the Treaty of Padan, I am obligated to do so with consideration of the assisstance they provided during the October Coup." Anelyn took a brief moment to take a sip of her tea which had been untouched since the start of the meeting. "But then Madam Corbulo, a member of the old government, states that we should not and that the militia can handle the riots on their own."

"I believe what we are committing is already enough." Henrietta responded. "The Amphibious forces we have en route is representative of our response to the Treaty of Padan. It will be enough, for now, to show our goodwill to Princess Jocasta and her own members of the government. However, the people will not be happy if elections do not take place and there will likely be a time when we must pick a side. That may not be now, Your Highness, but it is fast approaching."

"Would any of you here disagree if I sent a telegram to Princess Jocasta inquiring as the whereabouts of her sister?"

There was a brief moment of silence as those members present looked at each other, communicate with eyes alone, before the Prime Minister stated, "No, Your Highness, you will hear no objections from us."

Il Regno Di Cacerta
Ufficio della Regina

To: Crown Princess Jocasta Obed
From: Anelyn Trento, Queen of the Kingdom of Cacerta
Subject: Inquiry on Queen Mara
Encryption: High
Your Highness,

The Kingdom has dispatched a fleet under the command of Jessica Trento on my behalf to assist your nation in response to your message to me. I apologize that I could not send Captain Doria, but Rear Admiral Jessica is a very capable commander in her own right and a loyal woman to the Cacertian Crown.

However, I must inquire as to the status of your sister, Queen Mara. I have not heard from her in quite some time and I would love to talk to her, if given the chance. These recent events, especially the death of Perrin -- whom I know she dearly loved -- must be quite a burden on her shoulders and I would like to express to her my utmost support. She is a very dear friend of mine and I want her to know that she is not alone.

May the Wise Wolf protect!

Anelyn Trento
Queen of the Kingdom of Cacerta

by **Nalaya** » Sun Feb 22, 2015 12:55 pm

Nalayan Embassy
Fineburg, New Edom

Music wafted through the Ambassador's private quarters, playing from the speakers set up on her dresser. It was a song he didn't recognize, but he had never been an opera buff. There was the sound of a running shower in the bathroom, the door ajar only a few centimeters. Simonyan could hear Maro Rshtuni herself singing along in a pleasant, clearly classically trained soprano. He hadn't realized the Ambassador could sing, not that any of them would have felt comfortable with the older woman at their drunken karaoke nights. She probably wouldn't have been comfortable there either. He stopped at the bathroom door and checked himself in the reflection of the window's glass to make certain he looked as neat as possible. He had to smooth his air that was ruffled from running and adjust his crooked tie. There was no need to alarm anyone. The security staff were already informed and the Ambassador's meek secretary had suddenly transfigured into a terrifyingly competent, calm man who was giving everyone orders.

"...Ebben! Ne andrò lontana
come va l'eco pia campana,
là fra la neve bianca,
là fra le nubi d'ôr;
laddóve la speranza, la speranza
è rimpianto, è rimpianto, è dolor!..."

"Tiruhi Ambassador, the crowd at Betharan Palace has turned into a riot. It sounds like they're being dispersed rather roughly," he reported, raising his voice so that she would hear him over the water and the strains of delicate music. She didn't usually appreciate being disturbed during bathing, but this was a conflict that could envelop the district. It would be understood.

The singing stopped abruptly along with the water and a thoughtful silence descended on the room. "Are there protestors on our grounds fleeing the chaos, Simonyan?" her disembodied voice asked the shaken aide. The Ambassador sounded as calm as she always was. Then again, someone who was sent to a wartorn New Edom—though it was one of the safer posts compared to doing mediation back home—couldn't be a creature rattled easily.

"Not yet, Tiruhi," he said, reassured a little by that tone of absolute placidity. "But I understand that it is difficult to know how a crowd will move. They said they wanted elections, but one of our off-duty security just called from near down there. He heard it go ugly."

"So the monarchy has kicked the hornet's nest, then. I'll be out in a few minutes. Why don't you have a drink and sit down?" Maro's voice said clearly. Simonyan knew good advice when he heard it. He poured himself a glass of brandy and settled down out in the sitting room on a couch, taking a lot of deep breaths to steady himself.

Maro Rshtuni emerged a few minutes later, damp but very much together. Her once dark hair was almost entirely steel-colored and crow's feet permanently marked the corners of her dark brown eyes. There were a lot of lines across her handsome face. Her jaw was a little more square than typical for a Nalayan and her nose was broadened slightly as if it had been broken many times throughout the course of her youth. She had aged very gracefully, accepting each line rather than attempting to mask it and almost seemingly as a result, she seemed to evade the worst of Time's ravaging touch. She was dressed a neat cream-colored blouse with a navy blue skirt. They'd obtained waivers at the Embassy, though none of them were above stripping if they had to—aside from security, who needed to be armed. "Better?" she asked him kindly.

"Much, Tiruhi," he said. The alcohol and quiet orchestral music had done a good job of settling his nerves.

"I want you to make it known to the staff, including security personnel, that the Embassy will be a place of refuge for people fleeing the scene. We will cooperate with the local authorities in sorting this mess out should they require that of us, but in the meantime we don't need corpses," she said.

"Does this mean war?" Simonyan asked after nodding his understanding and taking another deep breath.

Her voice said, "It's too early to say. Just do this for me, Simonyan. We can handle it." Her eyes, however, said, I think so.

The Season Turns (Telegram for Entry please)

Hydra, New Hydrenia

Asklepion, South Damoclea....

Hydra, New Hydrenia

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