The Grand Nicholia-Abiottis War (IC, MT-PMT, Semi-Open)

by **Balashov** » Mon May 11, 2015 8:56 pm

Yohan's mind began racing with thoughts about meetings, who to send, who will lead, and what needs to be done. "I do agree with you on that a meeting needs to commence. Our nations undoubtedly have never been put into positions like this - with approval of the King, High General Viktor Abdulov and his staff can be on a plane to Lanscus in several hours. To the best of my knowledge as well, Admiral Burgiak and Admiral Cascus are also meeting off the coast of Grand Nicholia and I entrust they are planning the best way to proceed. Will you be able to accept our High General and have him meet with your generals to discuss what lies ahead for our alliance?"

"In best interest of the future, I feel we may have to hold off on the access point through Sichou until the 1st Royal Fleet arrives - then we can attempt to open up the route again - I fear the Nicholians will now expect our forces to move through Sichou and will have their border heavily prepared." Burgiak paused to look at the map. He became perplexed after something dawned on him, "Commander, if the reroute through Sichou does not work, we will have to do a full invasion of the coast of GN, which is identified as heavily militarized and guarded. I assume the Altans have taken that area and moved GN forces out, but then there is yet another force there. I really want to stress an attempt to open communications with one of the nation's already landed in Nicholia and have them help secure a landing zone into Grand Nicholia. Once there, I feel like our consolidated forces will quickly move through the countryside to the mountain palace, capturing their vital economic centers and industrial centers along the way. They can only hold out so long before food gets scarce and moral drops. Plus, we have an advantage the Altans lack - artillery and airpower. The mountain fortress would only last so long before explosions either got the best of them or killed their imbecile leader. I know that is a last-ditch strategy, as it would put the Princess in danger. We could also attempt to send in several special ops units to attempt to retrieve her - what is your opinion Commander?"

by **Grand Nicholia** » Mon May 11, 2015 9:25 pm

That night as the Crown Prince went to sleep in the Palace instead of the Barracks, it took him a while to fall asleep as he could only think about Corhána, more than usually. As he fell asleep, his own brain tantalised him and reminded him about what he couldn't have by a dream. The dream was about a wedding, his wedding. More specifically a wedding between Him and Corhána. Which was unrealistic as he thought Corhána hated him. He wanted to stare into Corhána's eyes and kiss her. He awoke from his dream (which he called a nightmare) and stayed asleep for the rest of the night.

by **Claanyad** » Mon May 11, 2015 9:27 pm

She sighed after him, but understood a bit of what he meant. Sure, her father did like to complain, but that is no cause for war. Mental torture is never valid, and until the Prince understood that, he could never be fit to rule...
And she could never be truly in love with him.
Hearing his baseless claims just further founded the idea that she had caused the suffering. She felt miserable, and began to sob again. She hoped no-one could see her. As a Clányan woman, she was required to be strong - emotionally if not physically, and while she held a good deal of muscle, more than some other palace women, she was not as strong as she needed to be, physically or mentally. She thought about home - how she longed for the Ombalichite Palace, its roof shimmering in the sunlight, and its gardens with red fountains. She missed the castle at Caśéndál, with its lions roaming around all day. She missed her father, her mother, her brothers and the entire household. Even Getúmen, whom she had never really gotten on with,other than when her father had told him to do things. She missed his smile, though. He would always smile as he was out in the gardens, especially at the Shrine of Yúrh. Those were just some things, and there were many others.
She could only imagine how her father was feeling. She felt sorry for him - having to worry as Corhána sat in a dungeon. She didn't particularly like it, but she was happy in the knowledge that she was safe - for now, at least. She hoped, even if he was immature and raised by the wrong father, that Prince Philippe would try and help her. She would have begged, but a Clányan woman must never sink that low.
She lay down in the dungeon, hoping to be alone for a moment more.

"Ah. The Lord High Commander is meeting with your admiral. This is good, but we will also need the meetings here. I agree, we shall accept your High General. I could probably arrange for you to come via a slightly less well-known airport than Lánscus. It would be a good place to meet, and then we can make our way down to the bunker here. I am sure that we will be well-defended in-case of attack there. I shall try to address the Emperor; see if he's ready to co-operate yet. You can surely understand that he has been placed under a lot of strain. Otherwise, it will have to be either Gáð Ceŧerhas Túagábec, our Minister of Defence, or Cerv Cevdéias Carhon, our Lord High Marshal, I'm afraid."
He motioned for an aide to write down those details, and he did. He kept writing, as the Minister continued to speak.

The Lord High Commander again stroked his chin. He was unsure of what to do. On the one hand, it was a sound strategy. The Altans have taken the coast, it is heavily militarised - it would be both easy to defend and a great point to base operations. On the other hand, he had no idea as to how negotiations were progressing in their camp. He did not want to attack them if they would prove to be allies later on. He wanted to wait and see, but he knew that strategically, it could prove a bad move.
"Perhaps we could send scouts on-foot to check the border with Sichou. I doubt that Grand Nicholia would have militarised it successfully without angering the forces of Sichou. I know that I had to move the Holon to allow our troops access for four days. I don't want to anger them any more by waiting longer. If we check their border at regular intervals, then we can see if they have militarised it. To be honest, though, I think that their strategy is to concentrate troops on the economic and military centres. As for the coast, yes, it is true that it is able to be taken, thanks to the Altan presence there. I can try to contact the guards present at their camp, but it is risky. I don't want to suddenly find myself without any contact with them whatsoever, and the Emperor would not be pleased about a personal attack on the Altans. But we can try. We shall see if they will allow us through their occupied territory. What do you think?

by **Grand Nicholia** » Mon May 11, 2015 9:55 pm

"It's time to send our little piggy of an Emperor a gift! I mean, I believe that a lock of her hair and perhaps a half of pint of her blood should suffice." Exclaimed the King. "Don't just sit there, do it now!" He yelled at two maids who quickly scurried to get scissors and the court doctor to get both items. They quickly went down to the dungeon and visited Corhána, two guards were to hold her down as they cut a trim of her hair and the Court doctor took a half of pint of blood. Corhána was also put in stricter conditions and was chained to the wall now. The hair was put in a bag and the blood (obviously) as well. The King was pleased and wrote a letter to the Emperor along with the two bags that said:

To the fat pig who fancies himself an emperor,

Here's a little keepsake, hope you like it. A lock of hair of your daughter's as well as a half a pint of blood.

Sincerely,
Your Superior,
Nicholas XVI

"That will be fun."

by **Claanyad** » Mon May 11, 2015 10:23 pm

The Ombalichite Palace, Lánscus, Clányad
It was Leðarh Ceŧcaren Yadscus, the Emperor's manservant, who first found the bag with the letter. As he saw it, he nearly threw up. He managed not to, as he took the letter to the Emperor.
"My Emperor, I have a letter from those savages."
"The Altans?"
Leðarh shook his head, "I doubt such an honour-bound people would do such a thing. No, it is from Grand Nicholia."
He put the bag on a desk, so the contents were of sight of the Emperor and gave him the note.

To the fat pig who fancies himself an emperor,

Here's a little keepsake, hope you like it. A lock of hair of your daughter's as well as a half a pint of blood.

Sincerely,
Your Superior,
Nicholas XVI

The Emperor's lower jaw shook with rage and sadness.
"Leðarh... Is that it?" he said, pointing to the bag.
Leðarh Ceŧcaren Yadscus nodded, hoping the Emperor would not become too angry.
The Emperor picked up the bag, and walked out the door. Leðarh nearly ran behind him, trying to get the Emperor to stop, but he would not. He had found what he was looking for - the Ombalichite Palace's garden, which held a shrine to all of the Gods of the Pantheon. He found the shrine to Rhas, and took the contents of the bag and emptied them out upon the stones.
"Ta mona yad! TA MONA YAD!" He screamed at the shrine, now covered in blood and hair, making the red stones from which it was made even redder. Blood ran down the side, and trickled into the ground. But the Emperor kept shouting at the top of his voice, "Ta mona yad!"
Eventually, he stopped, his voice beginning to run out. He knelt at the shrine. It was red, it had a chiselled image of the god Rhas on it, holding his timer and his scroll. The Emperor did not cry, but only prayed to the god on the shrine. He said it again and again, "Ta mona yad... Ta mona yad..."
Finally, after five hours of kneeling at the shrine, he stood, "I know what I must do. That evil King can try all he wants to hurt me or my people, or my daughter. But as long as I live, that blood and that hair shall be the thing which saves her. I was not born a Cívereś to sit idly by as a foreign, Anglo-Saxon Kingdom takes our lands, kills our men, and tries to butcher my daughter. Today, I fight. Bring me my féiraś - we are going to war."

The Dungeons, Grand Nicholia
Corhána was lavishing in the smaller dungeon, chained to the wall, low on blood, paler than ever, and barely conscious. The doctor who had taken her blood did it badly, and the wound he had caused her was becoming infected - she could feel it. She prayed to Rhas dearly, every second of every day. Should someone come down to see her, she would be praying, and would not stop.
"Ta gona yad... Ta gona yad..." On and on, she said these words, day-in, day-out. If anyone asked her what they meant, she said nothing. She just continued to say those words, and would continue until her father came. She kept saying them... When she became tired, she would say them louder to keep herself awake. She looked to be a shadow of her former self. It was quite disconcerting, and had she seen herself, she would have said the same. She understood exactly how Aya felt now. She wished she was with her - though they had always had a strange relationship, she valued their time together.
But she had lots of time now, and she could do nothing. Worse than nothing - she could only wait.

by **Grand Nicholia** » Tue May 12, 2015 5:34 am

"Your Excellent Majesty, it has come to my attention that your prisoners, Corhána and Aya, are not yet Catholic. Have you forgotten your own law! If you wish to execute foreign nationals you must convert to Catholism!" Said Palace Priest, John Pual Redemer. "Ah yes, then do it then! Convert them to Catholism in the Palace Chapel!" Replied the King. The King and the Priest got along on many, religion, foreign policy, etc. The Priest went down with 3 guards and first dragged Aya to the Chapel. She fought bitterly but gave up. She was left with her hands tied in a chair infront of the Chapel. They later unchained Corhána and dragged her to a chair infront of the Chapel.

by **Claanyad** » Tue May 12, 2015 5:48 am

Palace Chapel, Grand Nicholia
Corhána was still muttering her vows to Rhas. As she was being dragged to the chapel, she went meekly, her head still bowed, she continued saying the words to her deity, the deity of her father, and of many Cívereś' before her. She had a proud history with them, and even if she had to spit on the heathen priest as he tried to convert her, then she would.
"Ta gona yad... Ta gona yad... Ta gona yad..." She whispered slightly as she was being tied to the chair in front of the chapel. Her head was lulled to one side, and the light was far too bright. She had not been fed or watered for a few days, but she had the strength in her to resist the Priest when he came to her. I shall not convert, she said to herself, on my honour as a Cívereś... I shall not.
She had been in the dark dungeon for Yúrh only knows how long. She had no idea of the passing of the days or nights. Just that she was fed on occasion, watered too. But she knew it had been days since she had been last fed. She wanted a drink, but not from a chapel like this.
"Ta gona yad... Ta gona yad..." She continued throughout the time she was out in the sun outside the chapel.

by **Abiottis** » Tue May 12, 2015 6:53 am

To, The Overview of Abbiotis

In light of the dis formation of the Coalition, I request peace. You can negotiate terms, but I require one. I wish to join your alliance so that we may fight Claanyad and his coalition. Not only will we overpower them, I would accept my son marrying Aya! Please accept our terms.

Sincerely,
Nicholas XVI, King of Grand Nicholia

Millions of lightyears away, the Overview received this transmission from one of his drones. He had to rack his database, to find who Claanyad and Nicholia were. Eventually, it struck him. They were nations from that desolate planet he had 500,000 of his drones at. It irked him that his advisors had not already destroyed this pathetic little planet, but they did have limited supplies, and the biotic forces weren't completely incompetent.
He would invade their communications system. Everyone on that disgusting little dirtball would hear him.
And thus, he did. Their radios broadcasted him, their computers broadcasted him, their television announced him, even their polygraphs wrote out his message.
I reject your terms, you pathetic little specs of biotic composition. I will tear apart your castles, I will burn your seas, and your earth will meet the sky. Now then, let's step up our game. I have three destroyers on their way, with three hundred thousand drones, of all varieties, to invade your homes. Good day.
The broadcast ended, and the Overview laughed.

by **Claanyad** » Tue May 12, 2015 7:36 am

Trial by Battle, Altan Camp:
Getúmen's tacal had found its mark. It hit him above the chest, drawing some blood at least. Azan wiped it from his armour, and lunged forward screaming. Just as he was about to hit, Getúmen expertly dived out of the way, bringing the cutting edge up through to try and get Azan's thigh. It missed the mark, however, and Azan turned almost instantly. Lunging again at Getúmen, he ran forward with his fascis above his head. Getúmen again waited until the last moment to slide underneath Azan, finally hitting his mark of his thigh. Azan let out a gasp of pain, but nothing more. Getúmen could respect that.
As Getúmen slid through to the other side, he realised he would have to turn to the offensive to have any hope of causing damage to Azan. Though he was destined to die, he could at the very least cause some pain for days to come. As Azan was still recovering from his wounds, Getúmen lunged to the right of Azan, vaulting off his tacal to give him kinetic force to make him fly backwards...
But it did not work.
Instead, Azan grabbed Getúmen's foot and spun him to the ground. Tacal still in hand, he tried to parry Azan's blows. One came to the left, and one to the right, then another to the left again. Finally, Azan twisted the tacal with his sword, making it fly away from Getúmen. Azan and Getúmen locked eyes. Getúmen, though originally scared, now lay with a determination in his eyes. He resigned himself to an honourable death, knowing that he had not dishonoured himself in battle. He closed his eyes, awaiting the final blow.

by **Azi Altul** » Tue May 12, 2015 9:11 am

With a quick overhand blow to the shoulder, Azan knocked his adversary to the ground, and held his fascis above Getúmen. The great chall had made a deep incision on Azan's side, which was bleeding dangerously, and multiple smaller cuts along his back and chest. His tacal had been thrust to the side and lie point first in the dirt. As the man tried to get up, Azan knelt to his knees, and thrust his fist into his opponent's stomach, and the pain stopped him from moving.
Azan, on his knees, held his fascis above the man's heart, and prepared to finish him. The Altan people surrounding him grew silent, to give their leader's chall the proper respect in death. The great chall closed his eyes, finding peace in his now imminent demise. Sweat falling from his brow, Azan lifted his sword above his head, thrust down, and...
Found he could not kill his new chall.
"Stand, Getúmen of the old empire."
He grabbed Getúmen's hand, and aided him in rising. The green man looked surprised, yet relieved. Azan's own warriors were roaring with disgust, as they felt their leader had failed them. That was to be expected. He held a fist in the air, and Raull let loose an all absorbing howl from his throat. Then, there was silence, and the great R†hul spoke.
"My people, the great hordes of the southlands, I have spared this man from death, for it is not yet his time. He has proved honorable, do you not agree? In the face of imminent doom, he has proved braver and more worthwhile in the eyes of the Rider than those which we call allies. Never again, will the hordes of the south ally with the forces of evil, of the metal men which would as soon kill us as those they prepose to fight. I elect this man ally, in the eyes of our lord."
With this, he lifted his new allies arm, and all hell broke loose. The metal man drew his knife, and slit the throat of an unsuspecting warrior. The Altan people were quick to attack, but the metal man was quicker. He cut down six warriors, in the blink of an eye. It was like nothing Azan had ever seen.

In a puff of light, the metal man was gone. The energy alone killed three more warriors. The metal man was gone, and the sides had changed. Altul and Claanyad were now allies.

by **Sperland** » Tue May 12, 2015 11:37 am

After swift attacks against the Altans the Sperlish soldiers withdrew. They had fought well while suddenly sneaking up on their enemy.

Meanwhile the reinforcements landed in Grand nicholia. Air raids were launched against the Altans and artillery pounded in a massive barage.

by **Grand Nicholia** » Tue May 12, 2015 1:35 pm

"M'lord, we should mobilise our reserves! We have 500,000 men doing nothing!" Suggested- and yelled-Minister of the Military, Charles. "Reserves may be necessary, so please do so." Replied an unamused King. "I hate war, especially this one. If only we could turn back the clock and have my son chose Aya, this could have been preventable...." Moaned the King. "Don't think that way!" Replied the Minister.

by **Manticulon** » Tue May 12, 2015 2:32 pm

Mthugal sat perched over his desk, upset that he had received no arial support from his supposed allies. He was angry, and that was clouding his judgment. He needed to remain calm. His minister of military, a dark haired, fair skinned man by the name of Jatubi Wantan, commonly known as the Leviathan, entered the room. Jatubi dismissed the guards standing watch in the emperor's main office, who quickly bowed their respects and left. This worried Mthugal, as Jatubi gained the nickname Leviathan through his cruel tactics of getting what he wanted, and Mthugal knew that the high emperor would receive no special treatment.
"Pardon me, sir, but it appears things have changed. The sides have been messed with, and the coalition lies divided. I have calculated it best to leave our current position in the federation, and to side with the new Claanyan assembly." He handed the emperor a letter, written in Mthugal's handwriting. "I have written this letter for you, to send to the Claanyan emperor, the Balashov king, and perhaps the savage leader, a beast of a man named Azan."
Mthugal looked over the letter, and more or less agreed. He knew not to question Wantan's judgement, both because he knew the man would savage him, and that his minister was one of the best strategists in the land, having never lost a single battle. Manticulon had been on the leading side of every war, in Wantan's 20 year reign as minister. He stamped the letter, stating his approval, and thus, Wanton sent the message.

Code: Select all: To the Claanyan empire, the kingdom of Balashov, and the hordes of Altul. It has recently come to my attention that the faces of the war have been changed. We, in Manticulon, commit our services to the new force of the Claanyan empire. I will send my troops to the battle front, should you desire our assistance. We hope you will accept our aid, and that we will thrive in this new alliance, destroying nay opposition. ~The Emperor of Manticulon, Mthugal Bashinov

by **Azi Altul** » Tue May 12, 2015 3:18 pm

Travvy had spent years with the warrior race of the Altans, so she knew what to do. She threw her knife behind her, and struck one of the archbishop's guards in the throat. This caused the archbishop to pause slightly, which gave her enough time to duck behind the corner. The maid drew her gun from a fallen guard, and shot at the threat. Travvy heard a gurgling sound, and saw her new friend fall. She had been shot. In the guard's room, five of them ran out of the room, drawn to the noises. Travvy looked behind her, and the archbishop shot at her, hitting the wall next to her. The guards were getting closer.
She jumped forward, catching one of her attackers, landing on his chest. She dug her nails into his eyes, and thrust her palms into his forehead. She thrust her body into another man's knee, bolting off quickly as he fell. She ducked into another corridor, and drew the gun she had stolen from the dead man from before. Gunshots were being fired at her.
The archbishop yelled something, but it was unintelligible. Four of her twelve attackers were down, and so was her maid friend. 8 men left, and the archbishop was one of them. She turned the corner, and shot at one a large, black haired man in the chest. He was down immediately, and blood shot everywhere. 7 left. She would escape. If what the maid said was true, she would get her baby back.

by **Grand Nicholia** » Tue May 12, 2015 3:34 pm

Azi Altul wrote:Travvy had spent years with the warrior race of the Altans, so she knew what to do. She threw her knife behind her, and struck one of the archbishop's guards in the throat. This caused the archbishop to pause slightly, which gave her enough time to duck behind the corner. The maid drew her gun from a fallen guard, and shot at the threat. Travvy heard a gurgling sound, and saw her new friend fall. She had been shot. In the guard's room, five of them ran out of the room, drawn to the noises. Travvy looked behind her, and the archbishop shot at her, hitting the wall next to her. The guards were getting closer.
She jumped forward, catching one of her attackers, landing on his chest. She dug her nails into his eyes, and thrust her palms into his forehead. She thrust her body into another man's knee, bolting off quickly as he fell. She ducked into another corridor, and drew the gun she had stolen from the dead man from before. Gunshots were being fired at her.
The archbishop yelled something, but it was unintelligible. Four of her twelve attackers were down, and so was her maid friend. 8 men left, and the archbishop was one of them. She turned the corner, and shot at one a large, black haired man in the chest. He was down immediately, and blood shot everywhere. 7 left. She would escape. If what the maid said was true, she would get her baby back.

The Archbishop horrified, locked himself in a room and sent an email to the King. Hoping he would reply quickly. The message read:

The Girl has escaped! You should've killed her when you had the chance! I think she will probably head to the Royal Lab for Science and Innovation! Send men here and there!
-The Archbishop of Arras

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Ah, I received a message from Monsieur Arras! What does it say?"

The Girl has escaped! You should've killed her when you had the chance! I think she will probably head to the Royal Lab for Science and Innovation! Send men here and there!
-The Archbishop of Arras

"What Girl? Wait, that one! Oh no! Get the Royal Nation Police on the phone and tell them to send officers to the Archbishop's Palace and the Cathedral! As well as some to the Lab!" he ordered at two Pages. The Pages acted quickly and 20 officers arrived at the home of the Archbishop and 30 arrived to guard the R.L.S.I. They waited for the Girl.....

by **Azi Altul** » Tue May 12, 2015 4:47 pm

Seven men left. That was all that stood between her and freedom.
Travvy heard the archbishop lock himself in a small room, but that was fine. Less guns for her to worry about. One imbecile came around the corner, aiming his gun at him. She kicked it up, and the man shot the air. The sound in the room grew fuzzy, and a ringing pestered behind her eyes. She jammed her small fist into the man's throat, grabbed her gun, and shot him in his crotch. He collapsed in pain, and that was it for him. 5 left, and then the archbishop. She saw the guard's commons had a door to the outside when she was dragged to her cell, and she knew had to get there. Jumping quickly around the corner, she shot one man in the shoulder, and missed another entirely. The noise still clouded her ears, hurting her head.
The men, all still inebriated, aimed their guns at her. Travvy rolled to the side, and crouched in a nearby doorway. The men continued to fire at her, almost getting her. Opening the door, she found herself in a dark maintenance room, with a vent above, and shelves on the side. Luckily, some foolish janitor had left it open, giving her allowance to climb the shelves into the the vent system, kicking the shelves down behind her. That should stall them, long enough. They were probably too fat to fit anyway.
Crawling through the vents, she heard the men trying to come after her. Luckily, she was right, they couldn't fit. Soon, Travvy found herself above the guard's common rooms, where the archbishop had locked himself in. He was typing on some sort of device. Opening the room's vent, she quietly jumped down, and snuck up on the archbishop. Aiming a gun at his slimy head, she spoke coldly.
"Hello, there."
The cretinous piece of shit turned around slowly, his fat face blubbering.
"You took my baby from me. I should kill you here and now." He stumbled over his words, and Travvy held a finger to his face.
"Oh don't worry. I won't. That'd be too easy."
With this, she aimed the gun into his shoulder, and shot. He fell down, gasping in pain. Crouching next to him, Travvy drew her nail across his cheek, slicing his cheek open from the corner of his mouth to his left eye.
"If anyone asks, tell them the truth. Tell them that a girl a third your age killed six of your men, and gave you that cut. Tell them you took her baby."
She opened the door to the outside world, and ran off to join her husband. She would get her baby back.

by **Grand Nicholia** » Tue May 12, 2015 5:01 pm

Azi Altul wrote:Seven men left. That was all that stood between her and freedom.
Travvy heard the archbishop lock himself in a small room, but that was fine. Less guns for her to worry about. One imbecile came around the corner, aiming his gun at him. She kicked it up, and the man shot the air. The sound in the room grew fuzzy, and a ringing pestered behind her eyes. She jammed her small fist into the man's throat, grabbed her gun, and shot him in his crotch. He collapsed in pain, and that was it for him. 5 left, and then the archbishop. She saw the guard's commons had a door to the outside when she was dragged to her cell, and she knew had to get there. Jumping quickly around the corner, she shot one man in the shoulder, and missed another entirely. The noise still clouded her ears, hurting her head.
The men, all still inebriated, aimed their guns at her. Travvy rolled to the side, and crouched in a nearby doorway. The men continued to fire at her, almost getting her. Opening the door, she found herself in a dark maintenance room, with a vent above, and shelves on the side. Luckily, some foolish janitor had left it open, giving her allowance to climb the shelves into the the vent system, kicking the shelves down behind her. That should stall them, long enough. They were probably too fat to fit anyway.
Crawling through the vents, she heard the men trying to come after her. Luckily, she was right, they couldn't fit. Soon, Travvy found herself above the guard's common rooms, where the archbishop had locked himself in. He was typing on some sort of device. Opening the room's vent, she quietly jumped down, and snuck up on the archbishop. Aiming a gun at his slimy head, she spoke coldly.
"Hello, there."
The cretinous piece of shit turned around slowly, his fat face blubbering.
"You took my baby from me. I should kill you here and now." He stumbled over his words, and Travvy held a finger to his face.
"Oh don't worry. I won't. That'd be too easy."
With this, she aimed the gun into his shoulder, and shot. He fell down, gasping in pain. Crouching next to him, Travvy drew her nail across his cheek, slicing his cheek open from the corner of his mouth to his left eye.
"If anyone asks, tell them the truth. Tell them that a girl a third your age killed six of your men, and gave you that cut. Tell them you took her baby."
She opened the door to the outside world, and ran off to join her husband. She would get her baby back.

"Telling the truth would be to easy! I will get you someday! One day I shall lead armies straight into your camp! And I will be in the same position ready to kill you! You hear me, you bitch!" bluffed the bishop as Travvy was leaving. His shoulder and cheek felt like a tiny truck with a sharp bumper hit them both. But, he was able to bluff. He waited until a couple of officers took him to the Hospital of St. Peter where he was treated.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The King stood outside in his balcony thinking about more peaceful times. He thought about when it was safe to go outside and roam the used-to-be peaceful country and when wild parties with other nobles were common. He knew right now none of that was possible. He then thought about Travvy, he wondered why he did not order to kill the Girl as she was causing so much trouble. He then thought about her child who was taken away from her. The Lab was performing all sorts of experiments on it and no one knew except for high ranking officials. He planned to have the child raised as a Catholic and make the child a supersoldier for the army to use. For now he could only think.

by **Claanyad** » Tue May 12, 2015 6:31 pm

Azi Altul wrote:With a quick overhand blow to the shoulder, Azan knocked his adversary to the ground, and held his fascis above Getúmen. The great chall had made a deep incision on Azan's side, which was bleeding dangerously, and multiple smaller cuts along his back and chest. His tacal had been thrust to the side and lie point first in the dirt. As the man tried to get up, Azan knelt to his knees, and thrust his fist into his opponent's stomach, and the pain stopped him from moving.
Azan, on his knees, held his fascis above the man's heart, and prepared to finish him. The Altan people surrounding him grew silent, to give their leader's chall the proper respect in death. The great chall closed his eyes, finding peace in his now imminent demise. Sweat falling from his brow, Azan lifted his sword above his head, thrust down, and...
Found he could not kill his new chall.
"Stand, Getúmen of the old empire."
He grabbed Getúmen's hand, and aided him in rising. The green man looked surprised, yet relieved. Azan's own warriors were roaring with disgust, as they felt their leader had failed them. That was to be expected. He held a fist in the air, and Raull let loose an all absorbing howl from his throat. Then, there was silence, and the great R†hul spoke.
"My people, the great hordes of the southlands, I have spared this man from death, for it is not yet his time. He has proved honorable, do you not agree? In the face of imminent doom, he has proved braver and more worthwhile in the eyes of the Rider than those which we call allies. Never again, will the hordes of the south ally with the forces of evil, of the metal men which would as soon kill us as those they prepose to fight. I elect this man ally, in the eyes of our lord."
With this, he lifted his new allies arm, and all hell broke loose. The metal man drew his knife, and slit the throat of an unsuspecting warrior. The Altan people were quick to attack, but the metal man was quicker. He cut down six warriors, in the blink of an eye. It was like nothing Azan had ever seen.

In a puff of light, the metal man was gone. The energy alone killed three more warriors. The metal man was gone, and the sides had changed. Altul and Claanyad were now allies.

Getúmen was indeed surprised. The omen was wrong, he thought to himself. He should probably put himself into eternal servitude of Rhas for this. But suddenly, as the cybernetic creature began to attack, Getúmen whirled around to grab his tacal and fight this sudden threat. But, as soon as he began to charge, he was gone. Getúmen lowered his tacal in both surprise and relief. He turned around to Azan.
"I do not know how customary it is to spare one's opponent and then ally with them here, but I respect you for it anyway. My friend, our alliance shall be the envy of the world."
One of the guards ran to Getúmen, a radio receiver in hand.
"Good to see you're alive, but there's something that's come up. It seems our Grand Nicholia taskforce want access through Altan-held lands to the North of Grand Nicholia. They want to use them as a base of operatons. What should I say to them?"
Getúmen raised an eyebrow, before turning to Azan, smiling slightly out of respect for the warrior who could have vanquished him but spared his life and made him his firend, "My R†hul?"

Manticulon wrote:
Code: Select all
To the Claanyan empire, the kingdom of Balashov, and the hordes of Altul. It has recently come to my attention that the faces of the war have been changed. We, in Manticulon, commit our services to the new force of the Claanyan empire. I will send my troops to the battle front, should you desire our assistance. We hope you will accept our aid, and that we will thrive in this new alliance, destroying nay opposition. ~The Emperor of Manticulon, Mthugal Bashinov

The Emperor read this message. On any normal occasion, this would have made him smile. Since the incidents before, he never smiled, just had a determined stare, calculating probabilities and ideas in his head, trying to work out what exactly he could do with his allies against the Nicholians. He saw that this new alliance would make their forces the largest in terms of manpower in the entire war. This may have made him glad, but no-one could tell any more. He began to pen a response.

Addressed to Mthugal Bashinov, Emeror of Manticulon,
Greetings.

We notice your decision to support of our cause and to pledge your forces to the alliance, and for this, we are most grateful. We sincerely hope that this will lead to further good relations between our nations, and that we shall be able to fully defeat the forces of Grand Nicholia and Abiottis together.
We promise now that we shall support you in the endeavours you pursue in this war. Where you go, so long as we can go there, we will support you.

Sincerely,
Cacsus VII Cecerv Cívereś,
Emperor of Clányad,

by **Balashov** » Tue May 12, 2015 6:37 pm

"Very well. General Abdulov and his staff will be sent to Claanyan airspace, where they then will be waiting for orders for where to land. He will be equipped with a telephone as well so that if needed, he can open up a direct phone line with King Zuri I and all three parties can discuss." Minister Diruchi responded, "As for the Emperor, we understand the strenuous times he is in and do not mind if we meet with one of of the men you listed - I trust they are both very capable and informed. If the Emperor needs his moments of peace and tranquility so he can focus on prayer and though, as any man does, we are very understanding. If the monarchs were required to do every bit of work, ministers like us would be out of work!" Yohan chuckled before continuing. "Alas, Minister, I must bid farewell. We have much work ahead of us and a great war to deal with. Have a good day sir, we will speak again soon, I'm sure of it."

Minister Diruchi placed the phone down then left to go attend to his matters - mobilizing General Abdulov as well as conferring with King. He returned to his office, where General Abdulov was waiting. He informed him of the current situation and handed him a heavily encrypted flash-drive will all the needed information for his meeting. The two men shook hands and General Abdulov left to his waiting car and departed for the airport. Within the hour, his plane and staff was airborne and headed for Claanyan airspace.

As Yohan sat at his desk, a knock came from his shut door. He called for whoever it was to enter - it was his Vice Minister. "Boss," he started, "we have just received a message from Emperor Mthugal of Manticulon. He has ended his alliance with the enemy and has offered his complete aid to us, along with Claanyad and Azi Altul."

"Strange times we are in, my friend. Though, I must admit I am not too surprised - Manticulon, like us, has long had an alliance with Claanyad. I was more perplexed with initially they vowed their allegiance against us. I will inform the king of this in our meeting, I'm sure he will happily accept their aid. Thank you, you are dismissed now." The Vice Minister nodded and left the room, to return to his work.

10 minutes later, Yohan was sitting in the King's office. In front of him lie the message from Manticulon, alongside the other report of General Abdulov departing for Claanyad. He had filled him in on everything and they began to discuss the future. "Yohan, I am elated to have the Manticulons behind us. Of course we must accept their aid and request for alliance. The Manticulons are known for their military prowess and will aid another key element of success to our alliance." King Zuri began, "As for General Abdulov - my prayers to the gods travel with him and his staff - I trust you prepared him well and that he will do what is right for the great Kingdom. He is a smart and capable man, you once again have chosen the right man for the job. As you already informed them, my deepest condolences go to the Claanyan royal family in this period of terror. These petty Nicholians must pay the price for what they have done and what they threaten to do. Yohan, please send a message to the Manticulon empire, thanking them for their support and saying we unconditionally will support them as well."

Minister Diruchi nodded and left the room to attend to his new task. He sent a highly encrypted telegram to the royal offices of Manticulon, rather than composing a letter and mailing it:

Code: Select all: EMPIRE OF MANTICULON - KING ZURI AND BALASHOV ALONG WITH REST OF ALLIANCE THANKS YOU VERY MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT. WE WILL ULTIMATELY PREVAIL OVER THESE HORRID NICHOLIANS AND YOUR ADDITION GREATLY BENEFITS US AND OUR CAUSE. THE ROYAL KINGDOM OF BALASHOV PLEDGES IT FULL SUPPORT TO MANTICULON AS ONE OF HER ALLIES - YOHAN DIRUCHI, MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS

"Commander Cascus," Admiral Burgiak responded with a grin, "you offer a high-risk, high-reward solution - much to my liking. If we can even cease-fire with the Altuls, then we can easily strike at the Nicholians. However, we must do more than cease-fire. Despite the outcome of your warriors battle, we must offer an alliance with them. Their sheer size and muscular build - despite their lack of advanced weaponry - will provide insurmountable support to our cause. They offer what many can't - thousands upon thousands of war-thirsty soldiers who eagerly replace the dead before them - you cannot say the same about many others. They attack relentlessly and their style of invasion strikes fear into the hearts of every civilian. Thats even before we talk about the what it does economically to Nicholia. They'd provide a valuable asset to us. As for Sichou - ground scouting would take up to four days and waste the window. I will send several reconnaissance planes to the border to check, but you bring up an important point. If the Nicholians did militarize their border, then we might find ourselves with another ally in this war in Sichou - even if it just means heavy economic sanctions. If you agree, we should move ahead with communicating with your guards in the Altan camp. If not, we need to figure out another means of getting in - fast."

The HRS Voychovic Glersnia

On the deck of the prison ship, Bassho rested, taking in the warm rays of sunlight. He sulked, for he longed to be reunited with the horde, and instead stared onto the coastline from one of the giant metal ships. He wasn't happy with himself - his rash thinking led to the death of 6 of his pack and the death of his beloved shewolf. He had been dishonored and left for dead by the older, more respected members of the horde. Sitting here, he would've much rather died in the dirt than be captured. Only the thought that the rider left him alive for reasons unbeknownst comforted him and kept him from jumping off the side of the ship into the deep blue waters below. One of his former captors approached him with a firestick in his hand. Next to him was the man who translated for them. He had no spite for either of them, as he was treated very well while in his cell, yet he felt no joy watching them approach. Most likely they would say he was being returned to the horde and as much as he would've liked it, he knew he was disgraced in their ranks. He would be regarded as incompetent and a fool because the wiser riders whom he served with would most definitely spread rumors around. "Hello," the translator spoke up as they got close, "Bassho, how do you feel?"

Bassho's eyes fell to the floor, "I'm average, as expected. I desire to die, yet the great rider has other plans for me. Do you intend on sending me back?" he asked quietly.

The translator relayed the information onto the former captor, who chuckled. The two spoke in Balashovian for a few minutes, laughing in between sentences with grins on their face. Bassho was sure the two were mocking him in their heathen language and his facd grew red. "Bassho," the translator finally spoke up, "we have no intent on sending you back to your people if you do not wish. For all intents and purposes, you are welcome to stay aboard this ship while the war rages on.. But knowing you and your beliefs, you do not wish that great humiliation upon yourself, correct?"

"Correct," he responded, "it is much more dishonorable to not fight than the foolishly lead a pack into something it shouldn't have been involved in."

"Very well, then Bassho, us Balashovians would like to offer a proposition to you. We understand you would like to redeem yourself on the field of battle to appease your Great Rider, and we want to offer you that solution without having to send you back to the Altans."

This got Bassho's attention and his head looked up, into the eyes of the translator and the warden. The two men smiled as the translator continued, "Bassho, we want to train you how to use our guns and weapons, and we want you to serve alongside Balashovian and Claanyan troops on the field of battle. We want you to be able to redeem yourself in the eyes of your god, and we want you to help us bring justice and death upon this damn Nicholians."

Bassho paused for moment, thinking it over, "Why should I help the soldiers who not too long ago were trying to kill me and my riders and did kill my shewolf..?"

The two men conferred with each other for a minute. "Because you initiated the attack." the translator began, "those troops were only acting in self-defense. And, they all died tragically. If we were to hold our grudges against you as you do against us, you would have been chained to several bricks and sent to the sea-floor when you first arrived here."

Bassho chuckled, "I sometimes wish you did.. However, I will have to think your offer over. Allow me some time."

by **Azi Altul** » Tue May 12, 2015 7:07 pm

Getúmen was indeed surprised. The omen was wrong, he thought to himself. He should probably put himself into eternal servitude of Rhas for this. But suddenly, as the cybernetic creature began to attack, Getúmen whirled around to grab his tacal and fight this sudden threat. But, as soon as he began to charge, he was gone. Getúmen lowered his tacal in both surprise and relief. He turned around to Azan.
"I do not know how customary it is to spare one's opponent and then ally with them here, but I respect you for it anyway. My friend, our alliance shall be the envy of the world."
One of the guards ran to Getúmen, a radio receiver in hand.
"Good to see you're alive, but there's something that's come up. It seems our Grand Nicholia taskforce want access through Altan-held lands to the North of Grand Nicholia. They want to use them as a base of operatons. What should I say to them?"
Getúmen raised an eyebrow, before turning to Azan, smiling slightly out of respect for the warrior who could have vanquished him but spared his life and made him his firend, "My R†hul?"

Azan laughed, and gave the command for his warriors to drench the fires of the fighting pit.
"Of course, cavara. Your men may enter enter our lands, and aid in its defense. Although, I must warn you. My men will more than likely not take too kindly to my sparing you, as nothing of the sort has ever occurred, at least to my knowledge. They will view your life as an affront in the eyes of our great lord, but I know that to not be the case. The Rider would not stand for an alliance with the honor-less, soulless metal men."
He clamped a hand on the Claanyan man's shoulder, in a display of respect.
As the two men left the fighting pits, Raull ran up to the R†hul and rammed his jumped against him, licking his face. Getting him down and rubbing his head, Azan turned to Getúmen.
"What shall we do now, cavara? Do we meet the task force at their new base? Should we return to your empire? My men are at your service, if you so please. Three million warriors, ready to attack."

by **Grand Nicholia** » Tue May 12, 2015 8:32 pm

"Lets send the Emperor another gift! I know a tear filled letter! No, how about we forge Corhana's handwriting and write a fake letter saying that she is perfectly happy here! Oh wait that would not work...." the King was muttering to himself until a page walked in sent by the Palace Priest to remind him about the conversion. "M'lord, what about the conversion of Corhana and Aya? You must do Corhana first as it would appear she would need to be chained again for your plan to work!" said the Page as he copied the Palace Priest word by word. "Ah yes do it now then!" replied the King and the Page scurried back to the Priest.
The Palace Chapel
The Priest was delighted with the news that he can do the procedure. Aya was tied outside. He had two guards drag Cohana to the front of the richly decorated chapel (more like church) were a baptismal font has been prepared. The priest commenced the small ceremony. The Priest took his time with the ceremony that seemed to last for hours. Just when he was about to finish Corhana acted and.....

by **Claanyad** » Tue May 12, 2015 9:18 pm

Balashov wrote:"Very well. General Abdulov and his staff will be sent to Claanyan airspace, where they then will be waiting for orders for where to land. He will be equipped with a telephone as well so that if needed, he can open up a direct phone line with King Zuri I and all three parties can discuss." Minister Diruchi responded, "As for the Emperor, we understand the strenuous times he is in and do not mind if we meet with one of of the men you listed - I trust they are both very capable and informed. If the Emperor needs his moments of peace and tranquility so he can focus on prayer and though, as any man does, we are very understanding. If the monarchs were required to do every bit of work, ministers like us would be out of work!" Yohan chuckled before continuing. "Alas, Minister, I must bid farewell. We have much work ahead of us and a great war to deal with. Have a good day sir, we will speak again soon, I'm sure of it."

Minister Diruchi placed the phone down then left to go attend to his matters - mobilizing General Abdulov as well as conferring with King. He returned to his office, where General Abdulov was waiting. He informed him of the current situation and handed him a heavily encrypted flash-drive will all the needed information for his meeting. The two men shook hands and General Abdulov left to his waiting car and departed for the airport. Within the hour, his plane and staff was airborne and headed for Claanyan airspace.

As Yohan sat at his desk, a knock came from his shut door. He called for whoever it was to enter - it was his Vice Minister. "Boss," he started, "we have just received a message from Emperor Mthugal of Manticulon. He has ended his alliance with the enemy and has offered his complete aid to us, along with Claanyad and Azi Altul."

"Strange times we are in, my friend. Though, I must admit I am not too surprised - Manticulon, like us, has long had an alliance with Claanyad. I was more perplexed with initially they vowed their allegiance against us. I will inform the king of this in our meeting, I'm sure he will happily accept their aid. Thank you, you are dismissed now." The Vice Minister nodded and left the room, to return to his work.

10 minutes later, Yohan was sitting in the King's office. In front of him lie the message from Manticulon, alongside the other report of General Abdulov departing for Claanyad. He had filled him in on everything and they began to discuss the future. "Yohan, I am elated to have the Manticulons behind us. Of course we must accept their aid and request for alliance. The Manticulons are known for their military prowess and will aid another key element of success to our alliance." King Zuri began, "As for General Abdulov - my prayers to the gods travel with him and his staff - I trust you prepared him well and that he will do what is right for the great Kingdom. He is a smart and capable man, you once again have chosen the right man for the job. As you already informed them, my deepest condolences go to the Claanyan royal family in this period of terror. These petty Nicholians must pay the price for what they have done and what they threaten to do. Yohan, please send a message to the Manticulon empire, thanking them for their support and saying we unconditionally will support them as well."

Minister Diruchi nodded and left the room to attend to his new task. He sent a highly encrypted telegram to the royal offices of Manticulon, rather than composing a letter and mailing it:

Code: Select all
EMPIRE OF MANTICULON - KING ZURI AND BALASHOV ALONG WITH REST OF ALLIANCE THANKS YOU VERY MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT. WE WILL ULTIMATELY PREVAIL OVER THESE HORRID NICHOLIANS AND YOUR ADDITION GREATLY BENEFITS US AND OUR CAUSE. THE ROYAL KINGDOM OF BALASHOV PLEDGES IT FULL SUPPORT TO MANTICULON AS ONE OF HER ALLIES - YOHAN DIRUCHI, MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS

Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon put down the phone also. The aide beside him readied his notepad for many more orders.
"Ready the Emperor's Private Airport for an incoming plane, as well as the Imperial Bunker for a military meeting. Invite the Minister of Defence and the Lord High Marshal to Lánscus for this meeting, I want it kept hush-hush - I don't want anyone outside of the Emperor's personal circle knowing of this. Order the Generals to prepare the Clányan Second Army in Yetŧréig - keep that private also. Begin preparations for departure, and I am unsure what the Emperor will decide to do. Try to keep the Emperor in Clányad, his people need him."
The aide finished writing - he had kept up well with the fast speaking of Minister Gíŧon, "Anything else, sir?"
"Yes. I want to draft letters to the other leaders of our alliance, as well as one to Grand Nicholia - you will be responsible for sending them. Also, make sure there is some gorat, jam and coffee in my office ready for me to get there in ten minutes. Get to it!"
"Yes sir!" said the aide, running to do his tasks before the minister got to his office. He was a good aide - sometimes Minister Gíŧon thought he was being a bit harsh on the young lad. Alas, he needed these things done.
By the time he got to his office, he had some gorat, jam, and coffee by his desk, as well as three pieces of paper watermarked with a monochrome Clányan flag on it. He could smell that they had been freshly printed. He began to write, copying the message for the commanders of the alliance.

Addressed to the leaders of the allied states of Clányad; R†hul Azan of Azi Altul and Emperor Mthugal of Manticulon.
From Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon,
Greetings.

We would like to invite you to send any high-ranking military personnel that you wish to a meeting in Lánscus to discuss matters of the alliance. This is necessary, we believe, to ensure a united front is presented to Nicholia. Please send your delegate via any means you wish, identify yourselves once in Clányan air or sea-space, and we shall direct you from there.
We are grateful for your continued participation in this war,

Sincerely,
Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon,
Foreign Minister of Clányad,

He then picked up another piece of paper once they had been printed, and it was to be presented to the King of Grand Nicholia. He knew that he was doing this without the knowledge of the Emperor, but he felt that he needed to do something. He had been reading World Assembly resolutions for days prior, in preparation for this letter. He breathed in sharply as he began writing - he was going to have to be tactful, yet also reprimanding to this false king.

Addressed to King Nicholas XVI of Grand Nicholia.
From Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon,
Greetings.

It has come to my attention that you are in possession of the Emperor's only daughter. From the state of the Emperor and the shrine to Rhas which lies in the Ombalichite Palace's garden, you have been torturing her. Smooth move. What you have done is only going to anger our Emperor and put yourself in an even worse position. Well done.
However, as one World Assembly nation to another, I also wish to know if you realise that you are in direct violation of two World Assembly resolutions - Resolution #9 and Resolution #18 which both outline the way that prisoners of war (and subsequently civilian internees) are to be treated, including the practice of torture. I think you'll agree, it's quite interesting reading.
You see, my job as Foreign Minister entails being well-read on international protocol, laws and legalities, as well as the obvious role of establishing diplomatic relations with other nations. As such, you get to notice how other nations are violating international laws, and how the international community could react to this. The way I can see for you to avoid a condemnation, resulting in a far lower standing in the international community, and a permanent mark on your reputation, unless you can somehow get it repealed, is to cease with your torture and either send the Emperor's daughter home to Clányad, where she belongs, or begin to treat her with more respect. I am sure that, should these requests not be met, the World Assembly would be happy to send a delegation to your nation to investigate the status of all prisoners in your nation. I will find these results to be both intriguing and informative, I hope you'll agree.
We hope you enjoy your legal reading, and we look forward to furthering the diplomacy between our countries.

Sincerely,
Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon,
Foreign Minister of Clányad,

The Lord High Commander nodded. He new that extreme caution was needed to keep relations at least civil, but he wanted the access too.
"I agree. We need to communicate with them. I shall get on with that. I just don't want them to be killed on sight by the Altans. We need to be tactful. Do you have any radio communication devices with you? That was all the Emperor wanted to send them with, so as not to anger the Altans too much with modern technology. We have some on our ships, of course, but it will be much easier to organise from here. What do you think?"

Getúmen was still happy to be alive, and that he had actually found a new friend in this man which was supposed to be tearing him apart until just a few moments ago. He knew that he had to resume diplomatic dialogue, but he almost wanted to give beśáda to this man. He knew that he couldn't, due to already being the beśáfad of the Emperor, but he still wanted to. He patted him on the shoulder as an ally.
"Knowing the foreign minister of our Empire, he'll probably be wanting to meet with some commanders of your military for a while. Preferably lesser commanders - you do not want to leave your army without a leader. As for myself, I am happy to stay here to offer my services as communication between our empire and yours, and as a translator should the need arise. Moreover, we are here to serve you in any capacity which we can until we are no longer needed."
He motioned to his guards, who all walked to their posts, apart from Erhas, who walked to where Getúmen and Azan were standing. Getúmen was still in his leather armour, but Erhas had been in his plate armour since the day began.
"Well, nomol, it appears that we will not be needing to bring you back to Clányad on a stretcher, or indeed in pieces," As he looked towards Azan, Getúmen found this to be the best opportunity to introduce the two.
"Azan, this is my ally, Erhas. He is the chief of my guard division. And of course, you know Azan, Erhas?"
"R†hul. I thank you for not tearing the good nomol here to shreds. However, sir, I believe we should get moving. At least a large portion of this force should be sent to the coast to greet the two fleets."

Corhána was still groggy and tired, but as the Priest was about to finish, he managed to use her leg to trip him up. He slammed hard on the floor with his head. She could not tell if he was unconscious or just laying on the floor, but he appeared to be breathing. It was not an attempt to escape, just to put it off until someone could put forward a good reason why this was unethical, either from within Grand Nicholia or without, perhaps someone from Clányad. If she knew anything about Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon, with whom she had been a good friend of since her days as a little princess in the Ombalichite Palace, he would be scanning over WA regulations trying to trip up Grand Nicholia. Grand Nicholia, being a World Assembly member nation, would need to follow these regulations should they come up. And she had a cursory knowledge of the regulations, but not enough to refute their claims. Besides, would her captors really listen to her?
But for the moment, she just continued with her prayers to Rhas.
"Ta gona yad... Ta gona yad..."
The incident with the priest had invigorated her again a bit, and though her arm was slightly sore, she could still move it, and she was unsure, but it felt like the infection was subsiding. She could feel it was warm, but not dangerously so as it was before. Clányan people generally had pretty good immune systems, she had heard that in a biology class. Perhaps it was the diet? She couldn't remember. She just continued saying the prayer, hoping Rhas would hear her. He had to - he was the God of second chances and mercy. He would hear her plea, and the Nicholians would not be able to harm her - she was sure.
"Ta gona yad... Ta gona yad... Ta gona yad..."

by **Azi Altul** » Tue May 12, 2015 9:47 pm

Azan looked around at his warriors, wondering which one would be sent to perform diplomacy. Ravvis would not do, as he was too hot headed. He was a good, trustworthy man, but his strong suit was with a sword, and not words. Perhaps Mazz, would do. She was level headed, and calm under pressure. Yes, Mazz would suffice. Mazz would ride to the Clányan city of Lánscus. She had performed all the rituals of remembrance at the loss of her shewolf, and held great anger towards the young warrior Bassho, who was being held in one of their ally's prisons. That was fine. He had been a fool, to rush into that situation blindly, and some detainment would teach him a lesson.
He looked to his cavara's ally, and put his hand on the man's shoulder. This seemed to startle him, but it was a sign of assurance, Azan had found.
"We have spent too much time in one place, this is true. I will send the warrior Mazz, to meet with your leaders. I think you will find her very level headed and diplomatic. I will ride to your coasts, with two thirds of my men, and Ravvis will stay here with the rest."

by **Grand Nicholia** » Tue May 12, 2015 10:00 pm

"Sir a letter from the Claanyans!" said the Page to the King. "Give it here my boy! What could it be this time? So, lets take a look at this. Interersting I suppose" replied the King.

Image
Addressed to King Nicholas XVI of Grand Nicholia.
From Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon,
Greetings.

It has come to my attention that you are in possession of the Emperor's only daughter. From the state of the Emperor and the shrine to Rhas which lies in the Ombalichite Palace's garden, you have been torturing her. Smooth move. What you have done is only going to anger our Emperor and put yourself in an even worse position. Well done.
However, as one World Assembly nation to another, I also wish to know if you realise that you are in direct violation of two World Assembly resolutions - Resolution #9 and Resolution #18 which both outline the way that prisoners of war (and subsequently civilian internees) are to be treated, including the practice of torture. I think you'll agree, it's quite interesting reading.
You see, my job as Foreign Minister entails being well-read on international protocol, laws and legalities, as well as the obvious role of establishing diplomatic relations with other nations. As such, you get to notice how other nations are violating international laws, and how the international community could react to this. The way I can see for you to avoid a condemnation, resulting in a far lower standing in the international community, and a permanent mark on your reputation, unless you can somehow get it repealed, is to cease with your torture and either send the Emperor's daughter home to Clányad, where she belongs, or begin to treat her with more respect. I am sure that, should these requests not be met, the World Assembly would be happy to send a delegation to your nation to investigate the status of all prisoners in your nation. I will find these results to be both intriguing and informative, I hope you'll agree.
We hope you enjoy your legal reading, and we look forward to furthering the diplomacy between our countries.

Sincerely,
Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon,
Foreign Minister of Clányad,

"Hahaha! They think they're scary by showing some documents and think it would make a difference! Ill just have to write them back! They are truly a hilarious people! Give me a pen and paper please my boy I have to write a letter!"

To The Little Piglet Who Wrote The Previous letter,

Ah I see your trying to be threatening! Well your not very good at it! You want me to treat the little whore of a princess with more respect!? Diplomacy is long gone my friend, long gone. In fact I was thinking of putting her in even tighter conditions! And congratulations you know how to read! You think two resolutions can scare me!? Ha, your wrong! In fact if you tried anything I could have left the World Assembly! In fact expect a little gift soon.....

From,
Your Superior, Nicholas XVI

"Lets see them top that! They want ethical! This is war right!" The King \is going. He was willing to ignore the world to protect his honor.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
One of the guards ran up to see if the Priest was okay-ish and thankfully he was. The Priest was carried to his bedroom to continue this at a later date as he was un able to do it now. He had guards drag Corhana to her new quarters, a small cell with 2 blankets laying on the floor and chains. Corhana was chained up to the wall.The King realized he wanted to send another letter of demoralization to the Emperor and realized a tear filled letter would do. He felt that Corhana would not give tears just by writing a letter, so he decided to send a Torturer, named Humphrey Fracalu, with a whip down to the dungeons to whip Corhana to sob. They would not have Corhana write the letter, but instead they would forge the handwriting of Corhana. They would have Corhana cry on paper and they would forge her handwriting. The Torturer when he got there in his usual black uniform he first sat down on a bench pretending to be a guard. The Torturer eventually entered Corhana's cell and went all out on Corhana, whipping her entire body, hoping to get tears out of her. After whipping Corhana for 6 minutes he eventually stopped and ran out of the cell leaving a paper. After 2 minutes he came back and took the paper and saw it was tear soaked. He had little enjoyment doing that, but it earned him a living. He closed the door on the chained Corhana and ran up the stairs to the forger who was required to forge Corhana's handwriting. "Her handwriting is very complicated but I will try my best." said the Forger as he had glanced a note written by Corhana. His tear soaked Claanyan letter read:

Dear Mother and Father,

Please forgive me that I caused you so much trouble. I love you both and wish we did not have to fight with the Nicholians. I have been miserable at the fact that none of your are with me. I only wish to be with, Mother and Father again. Please forgive me for the trouble I have caused.

Your Daughter,
Corhana

"That should do it" said the forger.

by **Claanyad** » Tue May 12, 2015 10:41 pm

Grand Nicholia wrote:"Sir a letter from the Claanyans!" said the Page to the King. "Give it here my boy! What could it be this time? So, lets take a look at this. Interersting I suppose" replied the King.
Image
Addressed to King Nicholas XVI of Grand Nicholia.
From Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon,
Greetings.

It has come to my attention that you are in possession of the Emperor's only daughter. From the state of the Emperor and the shrine to Rhas which lies in the Ombalichite Palace's garden, you have been torturing her. Smooth move. What you have done is only going to anger our Emperor and put yourself in an even worse position. Well done.
However, as one World Assembly nation to another, I also wish to know if you realise that you are in direct violation of two World Assembly resolutions - Resolution #9 and Resolution #18 which both outline the way that prisoners of war (and subsequently civilian internees) are to be treated, including the practice of torture. I think you'll agree, it's quite interesting reading.
You see, my job as Foreign Minister entails being well-read on international protocol, laws and legalities, as well as the obvious role of establishing diplomatic relations with other nations. As such, you get to notice how other nations are violating international laws, and how the international community could react to this. The way I can see for you to avoid a condemnation, resulting in a far lower standing in the international community, and a permanent mark on your reputation, unless you can somehow get it repealed, is to cease with your torture and either send the Emperor's daughter home to Clányad, where she belongs, or begin to treat her with more respect. I am sure that, should these requests not be met, the World Assembly would be happy to send a delegation to your nation to investigate the status of all prisoners in your nation. I will find these results to be both intriguing and informative, I hope you'll agree.
We hope you enjoy your legal reading, and we look forward to furthering the diplomacy between our countries.

Sincerely,
Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon,
Foreign Minister of Clányad,

"Hahaha! They think they're scary by showing some documents and think it would make a difference! Ill just have to write them back! They are truly a hilarious people! Give me a pen and paper please my boy I have to write a letter!"
To The Little Piglet Who Wrote The Previous letter,

Ah I see your trying to be threatening! Well your not very good at it! You want me to treat the little whore of a princess with more respect!? Diplomacy is long gone my friend, long gone. In fact I was thinking of putting her in even tighter conditions! And congratulations you know how to read! You think two resolutions can scare me!? Ha, your wrong! In fact if you tried anything I could have left the World Assembly! In fact expect a little gift soon.....

From,
Your Superior, Nicholas XVI

"Lets see them top that! They want ethical! This is war right!"

Addressed to King Nicholas XVI of Grand Nicholia.
From Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon,
Greetings yet again.

You certainly are a persistent one, aren't you? You have proven to me that I can read, but I begin to doubt your ability to. Where were you educated, out of interest? Perhaps international pressure can also make them increase their reading standard to allow for documents regarding the ethical treatment of prisoners in war. In fact, it seems you do not understand the definitions of both Civilian Internee and Prisoner of War. It's quite simple really - both are prisoners of an enemy country - i.e: you - and international law - a rule which is required to be followed - requires that you treat them with the respect they deserve. For example, say, Corhána! She is a prisoner of your country, and as both a civilian internee and part of the nobility of Clányad, you are required to treat her with respect.
Also, the World Assembly. The fact is, at the time of your imprisonment of Corhána, you are a member of the World Assembly, and are therefore required to follow its rulings, no matter how much of an affront they are to your heathen practices. I sincerely hope you understand that if your daughter or any members of your military were here, we'd be complying with the resolution. Or perhaps it is another drawback of the Nicholian education system?
If you need help with any other definitions, please write back.

Sincerely,
Cáðéit Cevcarhon Gíŧon,
Foreign Minister of Clányad,

The Emperor read the letter. He began to read it with dread, but as he continued through it, his eyebrow began to raise. By the end, he was laughing.
"What in Yúrh's name is this? Some forged letter from 'Corhána'. No doubt one of the King's propagandists. Look at this, Leðarh!"
Leðarh Ceŧcaren Yadscus came around to read the letter also.
"It says, 'forgive me'. Since when has Corhána ever asked for forgiveness for anything? She was a problem child!" He guffawed, "And didn't we love her for it? Didn't we, Leðarh?"
"I am not sure. Maybe she has been changed?"
"But what about this? Her handwriting. She always used to write the letter 'P' with difficulty. She would try and write it curling upwards, but this one is curling downwards. Also, why is the entire letter not in Modcifán? It's in Lítatínecifán!"
"Well maybe the Nicholians wanted to read it..."
"Well if so, then the entire letter is wrong anyway. Also - fight? She never used the word 'fight'. In this circumstance, she would use the word 'war', since there are two words around the same meaning in Clányan, and the other means 'to be slightly angry at'. Also, why the comma after 'with'? She would never do that - her grammar was impeccable! This, Leðarh, was written by an Anglo-Saxon, trying to impersonate my daughter. And an idiotic one at that. Give me a piece of paper. I want to send a reply. And bring me a copy of Cílányane for Dummies."
Leðarh obliged, and the Emperor began to write the letter.

Addressed to the idiotic King Nicholas of Nicholia.
From Emperor Cacsus VII Cecerv Cívereś,

Your antics amuse me!
I enjoyed reading the letter from 'Corhána'. For a forger who evidently made the letter, they aren't very good at forging. Learn our alphabet before you try to forge a letter - I know that Corhána wouldn't dirty her hand with Lítatínecifán unless she was teaching someone the language.
There are various mistakes here, amongst them her style of speaking and writing, your choice of vocabulary (śúfí is not the right word for the circumstance, by the way) and the entire letter is written in almost broken Clányan.
Attached is a copy of Cílányane for Dummies. It may be more suited to your intellect. Maybe you should lay off the bad jokes - I mean presents - for a while.

Insincerely,
Emperor Cacsus VII Cecerv Cívereś.

Azi Altul wrote:Azan looked around at his warriors, wondering which one would be sent to perform diplomacy. Ravvis would not do, as he was too hot headed. He was a good, trustworthy man, but his strong suit was with a sword, and not words. Perhaps Mazz, would do. She was level headed, and calm under pressure. Yes, Mazz would suffice. Mazz would ride to the Clányan city of Lánscus. She had performed all the rituals of remembrance at the loss of her shewolf, and held great anger towards the young warrior Bassho, who was being held in one of their ally's prisons. That was fine. He had been a fool, to rush into that situation blindly, and some detainment would teach him a lesson.
He looked to his cavara's ally, and put his hand on the man's shoulder. This seemed to startle him, but it was a sign of assurance, Azan had found.
"We have spent too much time in one place, this is true. I will send the warrior Mazz, to meet with your leaders. I think you will find her very level headed and diplomatic. I will ride to your coasts, with two thirds of my men, and Ravvis will stay here with the rest."

"We are grateful for your decision," Getúmen responded, "And yes, we must move. Shall we move at daybreak, or during the night with more cover?"
Getúmen gestured to Erhas to carry out the orders. He was a good soldier, loyal, but very headstrong. He would order the troops to be ready for whatever Azan commanded.

The Grand Nicholia-Abiottis War (IC, MT-PMT, Semi-Open)

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