After the End IC

[Revlona]

July 4, 2666
Castle Camden
Kingdom of Camden
Holy Columbian Confederacy

They Sat around the Table, the King of Carolina, the King of Camden, and the King of Dixieland, The Duke of the Triangle and the Duke of Mobile, along with 7 counts, they knew what they where about to do, and how it could affect there families forever, for good or bad.

The leader of the men, Sirin Strong King of Camden, sat at the head of the table with the document in front of him, he read it off to the others.

"To the Emperor of Columbia,
We your unwilling subjects, after innumerable past grievances, no longer see ourselves among your Empire. We demand you release us peacefully from our oaths of fealty, or we will be forced to release ourselves with sword and shield. We have called our banners and simply await your response.
-Your Unwilling Vassals"

"We are prepared to send this? You all know this will mean war, he will not meekly let us go, for whatever he is, he is no coward" King Strong said

"Aye, we all know the consequences, we wouldn't be here if we didn't" Said the King of Dixieland

"Send it Sirin, the time has come, words must be put into actions" Said the Duke of Mobile

Looking around the table, Sirin saw all heads nod in agreement, finally he dipped his head in a nod and handed the parchment to a servant whom immediately set off to send the message to the capital.

"It is done My lords, now we wait" Sirin Said

OOC

[Greater Redosia]

July 4, 2666
Castle of Phoenix
Duchy of Phoenix

Duke Cromwell was looking off at the treks of sand and arid flatland, he was staring off at the lands of Gadsden his rival, at least to him he was, that was threatening his control over the lands of Arixo. Arixo, such a beautiful name for the land that the followers of Atom chosen to mostly settle. But it was being threatened, the Cetics were to their west with the Emperor of California who've continued to spread the lies they tell about Atom, blasphemous. To the north were the Mormon tribes who behind them lies the powerful Kingdom of Desert, nothing he could do to stop him. So here he sat, in the middle of all three and nothing he could do.

He turned and looked at his council, his Chancellor (diplo skill 5), his marshal (marshal skill 8 ), his steward (stewardship skill 4), his spy master (intrigue skill 6), and his representative of the Church of Atom whom he taught (learning skill of 10). He could only trust his council and those who are devoted to the faith of Atom. He looked out once more to the lands of Gadsden, watching a tumbleweed go by and he sees the mark of Atom (or so he thinks, that radiation can do a lot to ya) upon it, he knows that it is his destiny.

"My council, we must train the troops at once! We must prepare for a war against Gadsden! Then we shall head east to pacify the tribals there, we shall be victorious in the light of Atom! I have been given a vision and it must be fulfilled, you Chancellor Argo, I wish for you to send this message to the Emperor of California. I'm to expect nothing but the utmost care being taken when in their presence, if anything goes wrong it will be on you Argo."

The chancellor nodded and quickly made haste out of the castle, the city of phoenix a mix of old ruins and new settlement. It was a decent city for a decent lord, but Cromwell wanted more. He wanted to make Phoenix one of the great cities in the west, a city that would rival to that of the east coast such as Bo-stan or Wash-ton or however they called it, nothing mattered but Atom. Nothing.

To: The Great Emperor of California

This message to you should arrive to you when it does, we simply wish to state that we have and do not find any quarrel with you. But we do wish however that we Atomicists of the Church of Atom be allowed passage through your land so we may attend gatherings within our holy sites, for such small a request could go a long way. May Atom's glow and warmth praise you and that you may live ever more.

Signed by Duke Foster Cromwell of the Duchy of Phoenix

[Kelmet]

July 4, 2666
Fortress of Genevieve
Kingdom of Monrovia
Court of King Monroe

I sat at the head of the table in the council chamber as my father had done, and his father before him. For while the throne of Monrovia was powerful it was in this chamber that the future of my kingdom would be directed. On the table we sat was carved a map of America, and in the middle was a group of flags and symbols representing Monrovia and its holdings. This would not do if Monrovia was to survive, to thrive and expand in power as was its right it needed more land more men and more money. With that Sebastian took to mind his family's words "Brains not blood"

"My lords, we stand her today on the very precipice of a new and more glorious future for Monrovia and her people, to complete the dream of our forefathers. I have know each of you since I was a child and I know you are up to the task. Fallow my direction and our common dream will be fulfilled."

From Left to right stood my council. First was Chancellor Oliver Monrovias leading diplomat a man who I had extensive debates always waking away with a hole new concept of the subject matter. Then there was Marshal William His generalship was second to non in my realm and I relied on him heavily for military strategies. Continued there was Steward Mason an excellent architect who spent most of his time in the field ensuring the highest possible revenues for Monrovias coffers. The last two being my spymaster Carter being responsible for state security and our Court Chaplain Samuel besides taking the spiritual health of Monrovia taking my personal confession many times.

"Lord Chancellor you will travel to these three counties improving our diplomatic relations with the end goal of them swearing fealty to me as their rightful lord. We need allies and friends so use that silver tounge of yours."

"Lord Marshal you will remain in the capital to train our army I will no look for war but will be ready should it find me."

"Lord Steward, see if you can increase our revenues this season, gain new vassal's can be an expensive undertaking."

"Spymaster, my family has long neglected our security services. I need you to focus on growing your spy network in Monrovia and surrounding counties just in case."

"Finally Lord Chaplain I would like you to take a tripe to New Rome to visit our holy father the pope. Improving our religious relations is not only our duty as Catholics but give legitimacy to my claims as king of the Missouri basin. If the Pope himself would meet with me it would be the biggest honor of my life."

As I finished my council dismissed themselves to carry out my orders, I left to the chapel before I went to the hall for lunch as I needed gods help for what I had planned for my people.

https://i.imgur.com/PFTUBkG.png
Light blue- The three counties I referred to
Yellow- The Papacy

[The Frozen Forest]

King Ezekiel Koser
Outside the Hudsonian Border

The sounds of hundreds of hooved animals broke the chatter of the wilds outside the Hudsonian borders. Hundreds of beasts gnawed peacefully at the grasses and fertile plants as their masters and controllers sat around tents and campfires. A few children were scattered here and there and played games of war with sticks and stones. These youngsters were accompanying their fathers in order to witness coming battles and raids. These experiences weren't for the incompetency of the Kingdom but was a time-honored tradition known as the staan. The boys were between the ages of 6 and 14 and were the offspring of the most important clans and warriors. These were the future leaders, soldiers and commanders of the Kingdom. They were unique in that many already knew how to ride and would be capable of flight if it were necessary.

They had never seen Hudsonia before and likely never would. The two states had a peaceful yet tense relationship for as long as they had been put into existence. War and raiding never happened between the two and this was strongly the result of shared cultural and linguistic similarities. Trade didn't hurt relations either, Hudsonian fabrics were particularly loved in the capital. It was more so due to these strong negatives to a war that brought King Ezekiel to the border on this particular day. He wouldn't have come totally unprepared to meet with King Cornelius. His diplomatic skills were squat at best and certainly weren't helped by his lust for war and plunder. Still even he knew that it was best to at least offer a messenger to warn the Hudsonian king of the arrival of his raiding party.

It was an essential diplomatic gesture. To round the Hudsonian territory without warning the rulers would be in insult and overtly aggressive. Ezekiel understood but did not practice such a doctrine of diplomacy. His philosophy was far simpler, to destroy and harass any enemy that was unfortunate enough to find itself below his saber. Still the Inner Circle had convinced him to follow through with at least this courtesy. The entire ride out however something else had been on his mind. There hadn't been a diplomatic marriage in many long years and he and his family were getting older. His brother was already 37 and unmarried with no children. He had a similar fate and his half-sister was already 19 and starting to grow past a viable age.

His letter had been simple and to the point. It was a fact that the Hudsonian and Punxsutawnie languages were similar but there was some dialectal differences that you couldn't ignore. It was best to keep it short to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings.

Honorable Cornelius, King and Lord-Protector of Hudsonia. Our realms have had tense relations since a time before you or i. This is in part due to the lack of communications between Kings which has prevented House Comstock and House Koser from ever establishing bonds or ties with one-another. I would like to finally meet you in person before i head north to gather wealth. I would like to discuss dynastic matters along with getting your permission to travel around Hudsonia's territory.
I will be sending an envoy with this communication to you as soon as we reach your border.

~King Ezekiel Koser of Punxsutawney~

[Elerian]

I slept, and dreamed that life was Beauty;
I woke, and found that life was Duty.
- Ellen Sturgis Hooper

Cornelius Comstock had never been a talkative man, never one for easy courtesies and polite conversation. He said what he had to say, bluntly and honestly, but when he was done, he kept quiet. He didn't talk for the sake of talking, but Abel never minded the silence between them. There was something comfortable, almost intimate about the evenings they spent together. They would often share dinner, talking about the matters of state, but as the evening grew longer and darker, the words became fewer, and they often spent hours just sitting together, sometimes over a glass of wine that Cornelius so rarely indulged in, but more often not.

Cornelius was staring into his empty glass, lost in his thoughts, but Abel's presence did not seem to bother him. Abel took the opportunity to study his elder brother, the features he’d come to know so well. Life had not been kind to Cornelius, he looked older than his fifty-three years. He had always been solemn and serious, even more so after his wife had died. Back then his face had been gaunt from fasting and grief, but now it was deeply lined with bitterness and worries, even more so than a man his age. When Abel had learned that Cornelius was to be named heir apparent, he had expected that the news would bring smiles to Cornelius’ face, light into his eyes. But this acknowledgement had, if anything, been more cruel to him than obscurity: Their father's ingratitude was a constant source of humiliation, and his beloved friends were growing into strangers.

A blind man could see how much Cornelius hated his Kingship, the court, the nobles, the schemers and flatterers, and Abel could not help but admire the determination with which Cornelius ignored his own desires and steadfastly did his duty to a realm who practically hated him. Abel was sure that Cornelius wished his older brother had lived, despite the bastard of a King he would have become. In the end choices were not really choices at all. A mirage at best. He had not been forced onto the throne, but the notion that he might have refused it was preposterous.

Suddenly he felt Cornelius looking at him, that piercing gaze out of eyes as deep and blue and intense as the sea.

“It's growing late” Cornelius stated matter of factly.

That was his own peculiar way of telling Abel it was time to retire for the night. But it was true, and Cornelius had a long ride ahead of him tomorrow. A nearby petty warlord had sent a messenger telling of his coming to Hudsonia. The message had spoken of peace, but Cornelius was a careful man, and the border lords had been called to arms. The Hudsonian host would meet the Punxsutawney host on the very edge of Hudsonia’s borders.

“So it is” Abel said in reply. He stood and made his way to the door.

“May God be with you, brother” Abel said in parting. Cornelius nodded several times, but made no reply. And with that, Abel stepped out the door to return to his own quarters.

---

In Good Company

Cornelius held a very different view of America than most. He likened it to a terminal patient on life support, with no hope of recovery. What was once the grandest of nations on earth, rivaling even the likes of Rome and the Mongols, was now a fractured expanse littered with the ruins of steel skyscrapers and a sad menagerie of survivors who called them home. King Cornelius, ruler of everything the eyes could see looked out upon his realm and lamented that it'd forged him into the man he was today. More than a decade had elapsed since he’d irrevocably been changed, and yet so little had changed in the backwater that stretched out before him.

Cornelius had long since left behind his capital of Albany. He’d left his capable, if inexperienced son in charge of things. It was a test of the man, if nothing else. It was always good to have capable men that were also loyal, but rarely did those two things coincide. Any number of men had tried to test Cornelius in the past, especially when he first ascended the throne, but each of them had failed in their endeavors.

And now, on this most blessed day he sat across the table from a man who also came to test him. Perhaps not in the same way as other men in the past, but that was his purpose nonetheless. And yet, Cornelius wasn’t particularly impressed with his new adversary. King Koser had given little notice of his impending arrival. Implying a marriage between one of Cornelius’s own flesh and blood and some backwater Princess. He had no doubts that hundreds of rumors were being spread in every corner of his realm, but It still was an intriguing proposal Cornelius had to admit. He’d been furious when he’d first been given word of Koser’s trespasses, but the days in the countryside since then had subdued his distaste. Koser may not have been well versed in courtly etiquette, yet ignorance was no excuse.

Seated within a pavilion across the table from the interloper, Cornelius regarded Koser for a few moments, his face impassive. The King had long since learned to hide his emotions, giving an opponent any edge was unforgivable to Cornelius. Finally, Cornelius spoke, “I hear you have a proposal, Your Majesty.”

---

A Crown of Ashes

Thud.

A corpse, wicked arrows protruding from it’s lifeless back, struck the cobblestone floor. The doors to the great hall lay broken on their hinges. Their great oaken frames shattered. Dark figures entered, with all the grace of a feline, directly towards the King’s own chambers. The alarm had been sounded, but they would be too late to be of any help now.

The King of Deitscherei was old, but certainly not weak. As the darkly clad figures mounted the stairs that led to the Royal apartments a blood curdling war cry resounded throughout the scantily lit hall as Abram, the seventh of his name, Lengacher rushed around a corner towards the dark assailants. He was flanked by a handful of Deitscherei’s finest swordsmen. Abram’s mind almost unconsciously recognized its cue just as the familiar hiss of a blade shot through the air at him. With the robotic precision of a finely tuned machine, Abram’s own saber came to his defense, rising effortlessly to intercept the steel that would have meant death, ricocheted harmlessly off his own blade. In the next instant, Abram brought his saber to bear on the would be assassin

Abram came crashing in on the next hired blade, like a meteor streaking through the atmosphere. His saber clutched firmly in a two handed death grip, the lustrous blade came from left to right in a vicious streak of polished steel aimed at the killer’s midsection. In that one fluid motion the saber made a clean cut through his opponent’s belly.

He shifted his gaze, looking for his next enemy. To his dismay he saw that his best swordsmen hadn’t survived the onslaught. Two assassins remained.

“Very well” Abram said, “I can kill two of you just as easily as one.”

The two figures began to close the distance. Abram readied his sword and repositioned himself into a defensive posture. Time wasn’t on their side, but like trained professionals they stalked closer to him carefully, all too aware of what had become of their comrades. They got within a dozen feet of Abram, and through some non verbal cue, they lunged at almost the same instant. He would take at least one more of these bastards if he was to meet his maker tonight. The King let out one final warcry as he surged forward to meet them.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

4th of July
The Year of Our Lord 2666
County of Travis
Longhorn Realm

The sun had already set halfway to the distant Texas hills when the herd arrived in at its new pasture. Brought to a halt, the enormous group of Texas Longhorns began contently grazing on the wealth of summer grass that grew there. The herding dogs circled the group, barking and yelping as they did. As the herd settled the dogs began collecting in a larger group near a water pool, playing with each other all the way. A mild wind blew over the Texas plains, rustling the grass and the few trees that dotted the landscape, rippling the water of the large water pool.

One of the accompanying cowboys took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow, and sighed. Finally, they had arrived in Travis. Taking the herd all the way from the County of Kerr had been hard work, especially under the unforgiving Southern Sun, but at last they had made it. The cowboy stroked his chin, only then finding out that his beard had grown rough and coarse. It was especially dirty, too, with dirt and mud caked to his skin and shirt. He looked around the herd for his companions, the four men with whom he had set out from Kerr. They too had grown rough beards, and they too were dirty from the journey. The cowboy let out another sigh, not noticing the horseman that rode up beside him.

“They are beautiful animals, are they not?” The horseman asked in a kindly voice. The cowboy was startled at first, but then recognised the man whom had helped them herd the longhorns across the Colorado river. The cowboy touched the edge of his wide-brimmed hat and made a small bow, as far as his saddle would allow.

“They are, my lord. A worthy name-giver for your realm” the cowboy responded. “It was kind of you to help us with the herd. Every rider helps when crossing a river”

“My pleasure, sir” duke Mack said in turn. “You men form the backbone of our nation, this is the least I can do”

Slowly, the other riders began to converge on their location as well. The Texas cowboys were a special breed of men. They were often landless knights, as only the nobility had the privilege of herding the Texas Longhorn, but not as respected as the knights that sported castles. Abroad, they were often not even treated as knights. More like a professional class of hedge knights. Still, their lack of castles did not make them less valiant, or less fearsome. Most of all, they were not less important. The idea that everyone could become a knight if one worked hard enough was still very much alive in the realm of the Lone Star.

“Tell you what” the duke said as the four other cowboys assembled around them. “Let me treat you to some good Southern hospitality. Would you like to join me and my family for dinner?”

The cowboys looked at one another, looked at themselves, and bent their heads in shame.

“My lord” the head cowboy began. “We really are not worthy of your presence, certainly not in our current state. We couldn’t possibly…” but before he could finish, the duke had already cut him off.

“If I say you sirs are welcome to stay, you are welcome to stay. After all, you are knights of the realm!” he said gleefully. The cowboys exchanged some awkward glances before their leader nodded at the suggestion.

“Very well, my lord” he said. “We would be happy to join you”

Luckily, the road to Austin Castle wasn’t too long. The six men conversed merrily while their horses took them down the winding road. They passed many a peasant returning homeward on the way, always extending a friendly greeting as they did. With their wide-brimmed hats and the bannered lances sticking up from their saddles, these men were very recognisable as to the nature of their profession. The duke wasn’t as recognisable per se, but many recognised him still. He was known for his frequent rides through the Travis countryside, and the visits he sometimes made to the families living in his realm. Governing wasn’t his forte, but at least he gave it a personal touch.

After only riding for half an hour the group arrived at Austin Castle. It was a large, square wooden structure with towers extending on all four corners. It was nothing too fanciful from the outside. The gates stood open as they always did during the day, friendly to visitors and travellers. The duke waved at the gate keepers, whom waved back with friendly smiles. Inside the walls of the wooden structure the group dismounted. The duke signalled for a cavalryman to come closer.

“Sir” he began. “There is a herd of cattle about a half-hour ride north from here, near the old Comanche mission. Take six volunteers and keep an eye on it, would you?”

The cavalryman nodded and trotted back to the stables, where he began talking to a few men. The cowboys that had arrived with the duke began loosening the straps of their saddles, detaching the holsters of their short bows and their quivers, and removing their lances from their holders. After they had finished their horses were taken away by the stable boys, given fresh hay and water to feed them.

“Come in” the duke said as kindly as ever. “I will introduce you to my family”

[The Frozen Forest]

King Ezekiel Koser
Pavilion on the Hudsonian border

The following day was uncharacteristically warm. A bright sun was beating down on the hundreds of gathered men and so many had taken shelter in the shade of trees or tents. Many others found the time to race horses or hunt in the wilderness around them. The woods here were filled with deer, rabbits and squirrels and even the occasional Elk. The amount of meat harvested by the time the Hudsonians arrived was impressive and the delectable smells of cooked flesh waffed into the pavilion where Ezekiel and Cornelius were seated. Ezekiel would be without a meal apart from a single green apple. It had been the idea of his men to meet in the Pavilion, one had been found nearby when they arrived and seemed to be in decent condition and as a result would make a find meeting-place.

His first impressions of Cornelius were that he looked remarkably old. Many did not live to old age in Punxsutawney due to the harsh lifestyles experienced by the Tribes and the City. Not too far off he could hear the rumblings of his men. They cast jokes in their native dialects about how the old man wouldn't survive a day of training among them. Ezekiel himself wondered how much combat Cornelius had seen himself and yet he preferred to think that the Hudsonian monarch hadn't seen much. A diplomat was less dangerous than a warrior.

After a solid minute or so after the meeting began there was silence. He could tell that Cornelius was assessing him but the solid visage gave away nothing more. His own feelings weren't as clearly disguised though he did his best to control his expressions. The silence was broken when Cornelius began to inquire into his proposal. He took another long moment to answer, neatly forming somewhat formal sentences within himself. "I do. Unfortunately this visit isn't merely to finally meet with you in person. Though it is an honor to do so. I am here to seek passage around your lands to those in the far north. My predecessors seem to have neglected these sorts of things, seeking permission i mean. To speak more plainly, i intend to plunder and pillage in the Northeast and have brought my finest warriors to do so. I have no fight with Hudsonia as our peoples are connected by trade and culture, and though i'm traveling around your land i would like to seek your permission to do so."

His hands slipped to the talisman that hung around his neck. The Groundhog, a symbol of his faith. He touched the hard wood that he had worn since the age of six. "Alongside that there is another matter i'd like to discuss with you. I want to form true diplomatic relations with your realm and this can only be done through the convergence of our bloodlines. Traders have told me that you have many sons and i myself have a half sister. I would like to propose that one of your sons wed my half-sister. The arrangements can be made for the wedding while i am raiding in the north, we can commence it upon my return. We have differing faiths but i'm willing to relinquish the right of my sister to raise her children as Marmotists should you accept. You may raise them as...Catholics." He was careful to hide disgust through his hesitation.

[Elerian]

Corning Tower Great Hall, Summer

The Throne Room at Corning Tower was vast, built to fit several hundred persons when the King held court. It was lavishly decorated with banners and rugs that covered the hard concrete flooring and structure. Ornate windows covered the left side of the room, showing the lazy Hudson in the distance. At the end of the hall was a curious throne, its shape was wrought of an irregular iron cast, but covered in golden decorations and its cushion was as red as rust. Next to the throne were two small seats, positioned at such an angle to allow conversation with the King.

The room was filled with courtiers, nobles and lords from all backgrounds. They excitedly chatted away and crafted alliances, friendships and rivalries amongst themselves. This was a joyous occasion, the first time the young Prince was holding court. The reigning King Cornelius had departed the capital days earlier on some unknown errand. This left his heir apparent in charge.

Jonas Foley, the Secretary to his Majesty, was standing with his own Chamberlain. Foley wore his beautifully made purple court robes while his Chamberlain wore a dark and simple outfit with a stifling white collar around his neck. Each of them held a number of letters and warrants for the Secretary to look at and possibly bring to the Prince’s attention.

The sound of a rod hitting the concrete floor could be heard three times, as the herald announced the arrival of the Prince. “Make way for his Royal Highness, the Crown Prince” the herald shouted as the crowds parted and knelt before the Prince. The Prince was dressed in a fine black outfit with an immaculate silver trim, a golden chain around his neck encrusted with rubies, and his father’s small and simple golden crown. He made his way through the parted crowds to the throne, where he took a seat and made himself comfortable.

“His Royal Highness, Solomon the first of his name, the Crown Prince of Hudsonia, does hereby open this Court Session” announced the herald, before stepping back quietly into the area behind the throne where the other countless grooms and servants waited. Most of them were dressed in the traditional simple outfits of the Palace, though the ones serving the King wore more ornate outfits with a golden trim and a badge emblazoned with the royal family’s personal crest.

The Prince stood and observed those gathered before him, few of whom he had ever actually met. “I welcome you here to my court, and I pray to God that you shall serve me and the Realm most graciously. I shall allow you to approach within reason and ask any question, or give any reports that may concern the nature of the realm” he said solemnly, before retaking his seat upon the throne. Solomon waited for his herald to bring some of his courtiers before him, he was feeling talkative today and had informed the herald not to discriminate based upon the station of those before him.

Many in the court had already grouped into the Reformist and Conservative factions, while a large chunk of the lowly Gentry had banded together in the Royalist faction. There were many plots to discuss, policies to push forward onto the Prince and favor to be won. Yet few in these factions had any real power, they looked towards the privy councilors for such patronage. Those who did not belong to the factions usually grouped with family ties, or simply those they were friends with. Some stood alone, whether by foolish choice or simple bad luck, they would find it hard to make their way and gain any sort of power. Yet the Crown Prince was unpredictable, unlike his sour father, and so few knew what to expect from him. Today would be the perfect opportunity to make a judge of his character.

---

In Good Company

“You may raise them as...Catholics.”

As was uncharacteristic of Cornelius, he visibly bristled at being named a Catholic. It occured to Cornelius that this Ezekiel wasn’t quite the man he was purported to be. Many men had come with honeyed words and thinly veiled ambitions towards grandeur, and Koser was no different. Cornelius had been right about the man, on practically every account. He had shown Cornelius little courtesy showing up on his doorstep with an army, whilst making placations of peace. Cornelius wasn’t a dullard, and had been sure to bring a translator should the need arise. While the translator would never tell him what Koser’s men said of him, he had told some of Cornelius’ own men who had relayed the information. To allow his men to insult his honor while simultaneously a guest in his realm was beyond a simple affront.

But to call him a Catholic to his very face? That was not a slight easily forgiven. His people had suffered under Catholic persecution for over a millennium. The Pope of St. Louis was a name never uttered in the presence of a Hudsonian Baptist. This . . . indignation would never be forgotten while Cornelius still drew breath. Even if ignorance was its root cause, as he was want of saying: ignorance was no excuse.

Yet, the utility of such an alliance could not be understated. If for no other reason than that was all that kept Cornelius from calling off the meeting in that instance. Ezekial would get his just deserts. Given time, God himself would punish him for his idolatry, but Cornelius wasn’t so patient as that.

“Aye, it is true that my sons are in need of wives. However, given the dissimilarity of our two religions I cannot assent to such a union unless your sister were to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. Only then would the union be viable” Cornelius said simply.

In essence, his half sister would be forced to renounce her faith of Marmotism, and take Jesus Christ as her savior.

---

Corning Tower, Summer

The children had been joking with one another the whole morning, fidgeting as they were dressed properly, fidgeting as their hair was combed, and fidgeting when Abel was instructing them in the ways of the court. But, now with each step they took closer to the Great Hall they became quieter and quieter until Abel was forced to look and make sure they were still there.

Eve had taken Elon’s hand and was holding it tightly, her eyes wide as saucers as she took in the sight of the countless guests who’d arrived for this day. Eve stumbled along clumsily, her younger brother’s recent growth spurt at the age of thirteen had left the older looking even smaller than she really was. Elon wore a rich purple doublet, and Eve a flowing purple dress that contrasted well with their emerald eyes, their mother’s eyes. In thick silver threads, the sword and falling star of House Comstock was embroidered on Elon’s breast. Abel wore a similar doublet that he did not particularly like and rarely wore, but his nephew looked very fine in his. He had long come to the conclusion that they would always suit such fine things better than he ever would.

They joined a small group of latecomers just slipping through the closing doors, Abel now ushering them ahead of him instead of leading them. They walked through the crowd as it parted to make way for them, so that they might be nearer the front. Every courtier bowed their heads out of respect for the young Prince and Princess as they passed. Abel was almost surprised to see Solomon on the King’s throne, but he quickly remembered that Solomon had taken over the King’s duties in his absence. King Cornelius had long made a point of avoiding court functions when he could find the excuse, and this year he’d asked Abel to introduce his youngest to the world that they would come to inherit.

But, it wasn’t simply for the children’s benefit that they found themselves in the King’s Great Hall while court was held. He wished to know how Solomon would handle the responsibility of running the Kingdom in his father’s absence. While he appeared bored out of his mind, he evidently had a firm grasp on the procedures of the court. Solomon was a far more natural fit for the throne than Cornelius ever was.

[The Frozen Forest]

King Ezekiel Koser
Pavilion on the Hudsonian border

Ezekiel leaned back in his chair, assessing the demand. His sister was a staunch Marmotist and commanding her to convert would inevitably lead to feuding not just within his family but also within his court back home. Christ made the same amount of sense as unicorns and fairies, it was nonsensical to consider such business and yet he found himself doing just that. He did in fact notice the bristling of Cornelius at the mention of being catholic. Had he slighted the older man somehow? Was he not a Catholic like those to the West? He would have to inquire about it later with the traders. He opened his mouth to speak but found no words. The second time he did so he announced his answer, "Yes." He led himself into it, again forming and translating words to the best of his knowledge.

"I will agree to your terms. My half-sister Violet will be baptized in the Christian fashion and adopt your Religion. She will marry one of your sons and we will have peace between our realms." He recounted what was to occur. It was distasteful but neccessary, the armies of Hudsonia were vast and powerful and though he was certain his warriors could score victories, Hudsonia would inevitably win. The disadvantage to being settled rather than Nomadic, you can't run from your enemies and so they must be destroyed or made to be friends. "Do i have your permission to move along your border?" he posed the question for a second time, knowing well that he would do so anyways but wishing to gain the permission he came for.

[The Valyria Empire]

Theme

California

Sacramento, The Celestial Palace

---

Celestial Emperor Elton "The Restorer", Fourth of His Name, King of the Valley, Head of Ceticism, Protector of the West, Guardian of the Pacific, Mandate of Heaven

---

The throne room was quiet, all but for the bowing of the court. Emperor Elton had called upon his vassals to renew their vows to him. Many of his lords were still upset at the change of inheritance for the Celestial Throne. However, Elton had grown tired of the act of elderly men taking a throne before shortly passing away. As the lords moved to the sides, Elton was brought issues one by one. From the lowly issue of a baron requiring aid, to the King of Jefferson asking for aid to invade the north.

As the tidings of court continued, Elton noticed a messenger arrive. He bowed, before Elton rose and walked towards him. Standing above him, Elton montioned for him to rise. The man was odd, that much was certain. He was not Californian, and the red spots across his face told him the truth. The man was of Atom, a foolish religion. The Catholics, the Evangelicals, Mormons, and even the Americanist, foolish as they are have respectful religions. They seek good in others, and are taught to help one another. Yet, the Atomicists were a bunch of fools living in the desert, slowly killing themselves off with radiation. Elton smiled as he took the letter from the man. He slowly read it, his blue eyes piercing every word. For a while he was quiet, and soon he chuckled. Elton looked to the man before him.

"If the Duke of Phoenix desires to pollute my land with the radiation of his people, he is quite the fool." Emperor Elton turned from the man and slowly returned to his throne. "Tell your Duke that I will allow his request, if he comes to the Celestial Palace, kneels before me and becomes a tributary of the Celestial Throne." With that, Elton flicked his fingers and his palace guards slowly escorted the emissary out. The Emperor coughed a few times, before the doors were shut and the emissary was sent on his way back to his Duke.

[Revlona]

Outside Charleston
HCC

Some light infantry accompanied by a group of archers where moving forward on the right flank, loosing there bows a couple times before hastily retreating in the face of a group of heavy infantry who had organized and where moving to meet them.

This skirmishing phase of the battle continued on for several hours before HCC heavy infantry committed on the right flank, causing the rest of there army to commit along the lines.

The battle swayed in favor of both sides before a rebel heavy Calvary charge into the rear of the enemy broke the enemies moral and forced them into a shattered retreat.

The Emperor of the Confederacy was killed in the fray, along with the King of Dixieland and all of his sons.

King Sirin Strong of Camden, being a distant cousin of The King of Dixieland claimed the throne

Though the war was not yet over, they had taken many steps towards the end.

Leaving 2,000 men to take the enemy capital, Sirin marched with the rest attempting to catch the loyalist army that was in retreat.

[Greater Redosia]

Outside the Castle of Phoenix
Army of Duke Cromwell

Duke Cromwell was preparing his army for moving south, into the lands of Gadsden and to take the duchy for himself. The lands of Atom and Arixo must be united if we are to stand a chance against the Mormons and the Californians, but if he couldn't unite the lands of his new home and faith. Then there was nothing else for him to do but die in the cold flames of war, but until that happens he was not planning on losing to anyone. He looked back at his castle and the city where he grew from a boy to a man he was now, Atom was with him along the entire way. The Duke's thoughts were interrupted when a messenger came to him, and stopped next to him.

"My Lord, news from California. The Emperor wishes you to come to the Celestial Palace and become a tributary of the Celestial Throne, it seems he doesn't wish to accept your humble offer you have given." The Duke just stared at the messenger, his face then comes back to life with more hints of annoyance in it. "That Emperor can sit on his throne for as long as he wants, I do not plan on becoming a tribute to him. Emperor Elton cannot stop the glow of Atom from spreading, for Atom is within all of us, Atom will be above us, Atom is already around us as we speak.

Duke Cromwell set off leaving the messenger behind, the army following the Duke slowly marching along. Several caravans filled with food, water, and other supplies being dragged along. This would be the Duke's first real war, one he planned on winning so that he may rise among the other lords in the southwest.

[Strala]

Gonfaloniere Christopher Liu, Gonfaloniere palace
Gonfaloniere Christopher was looking off at the city, ports of the trade republic of Boston. The city has done well considering that it was basically a city-state, and it was thriving. The only thing that most of the citizens cared about was that the city continued to prosper and that the city continued to stay a republic. The Republic was different from most other nations around considering the fact that it was a republic, and many of the major offices were voted into the position of him selecting them. The spot of Gonfaloniere was originally also a position where you were voted in. That didn't last long after he came into power. He and his family were now the only people that had the title. The only way they were kicked out was if they proved to be incompetent to lead. Currently, that wasn't an issue right now.

The true issue was what his neighbors were doing. He didn't want to seem weak, and neither did his citizens. If they showed weakness in front a pack of wolves than it meant certain death. In his room was a map of the surrounding regions. He had plans to expand the Republic and to make it a local power. Who knows in the near future it could become a superpower. He currently had around 2,900 men and they were well trained and equipped men. The Republic had money to spare, and one of the ways that they spent it was on the soldiers, and inventions. They tried in the latter part and for most of their experiments in ended in failure. The Republic also had a navy but it was many crewed by mercenaries. Most of their ships were trade vessels although they did have some experienced sailors.

One of his officers from the military had entered the room "My Lord, the men have assembled. Many of the troops that you have asked for last week have arrived." When he finished he exited the room. Christopher was pleased. It seemed that there was an advantage of a smaller more professional army. They would be launching an expedition into the unclaimed areas. It would diffidently help them since it would give them more men to recruit and more soil for crops and cattle.

[Kazarogkai]

In the lands of the Northern Mouse, Levy County, Central Florida
Warrior King Solomon Jack Holiday-Willow and his host

These were a barbaric lands filled with barbaric peoples lacking much in the manner of refinement. Tribal would be the word that one would describe them as whose value lied in little more than the fact that they made for a reasonably convenient place to raid. As the Warrior King known to many as Solomon made his way along at the head of his war host he seemed to be deep in thought not paying great attention to things around him. His thoughts were rather troubled; of what one might ask? Well to keep things simple he worried for the safety of his people knowing full well the precarious nature of their position. To the north and south lied powerful empires with his realm and his people lying at the center of it all. Not exactly a great place to be but for now they seemed less than interested in dealing with him and so he continued on with his way, though he always worried of the potential for one day things might change.

Another problem he had and one that he had been constantly reminded of by members of his family was the fact that he still remained unmarried despite his age. He was 36 now, a rather old age considering the man he was. Constantly on campaign and seemingly spending more time in a tent than in his own palace. This was something he understood but had for the longest time had been something at the bottom of the priority list so to speak. He always had something else on mind whether that be collecting taxes from the various villages or engaging in diplomatic circles with the vassals or heck even something mundane like debating policy with the Priest King who to this day admittedly remained one of his most important allies there has always been something taking up his time.

Of course it's not like there hasn't been any offers from the moment he took the kingship various clans have come to the palace and presented their daughters before him claiming she was the one. But the King seemed to be too interested. At least he wasn't a woman so he had all the time in the world so to speak to engage in such a thing. Still it was something that contributed to his rather troubled state of mind as he made his way north.

Along the coast the rather large host of 1000 warriors strong including 2 large war canoes traveling alongside and many camp followers whose numbers were hard to count but who probably matched or slightly exceeded the former marched to a place known but not. Their destination? A small village whose name mattered little. The local warlord who lived here hadn't come to his palace to provide the necessary tribute to the Clixue and as such it was deemed necessary to show him the error of his ways. This village was only one of many that had found itself on the unfortunate end of their war path, the nearly half dozen burnt out villages that preceded it would attest to this fact, and it most certainly would not be the last.

Eventually as the day wore on and as Solomon mounted atop a black horse contemplated the world he lived in a horn cried out. The scouts had come upon the village and their defenders. Solomon roused himself and began to shout out orders to subordinates and members of his signaling corps to ready the host for battle. Dark thoughts lay in his mind yes but Solomon understood as any good battle field leader that when duty called he must put them aside and set his mind onto the task at hand. And so he did riding atop a reasonable sized hill that gave him sight upon the land surrounding he set forth on his task.

Results
- Okeechobee Clixue launching bloody raids into the disputed frontier nearby the Holy Columbian Confederacy

Map of location:

Solomon's Host

Snout(Scout)
- 50 Light Infantry(Bow & Shield)
Teeth(Advance/Vanguard)
- 100 Light Horse(Javelins and Sword)
Belly(Center/Main Body)
- 250 H Infantry(Spear & Shield)
R Tusk(Flank)
- 200 Light Infantry(Bow & Shield)
L Tusk(Flank)
- 200 Light Infantry(Bow & Shield)
Fore paws(Personal Guard)
- 50 H Infantry(Spear & Shield)
Hind(Camp Followers/Civilians)
1-1,500 Camp Followers
Tail(Rear Guard)
- 50 Light Infantry(Bow & Shield)
Other
- 2 War canoes(2x 50 Sailors)(Spear + Bow + Shield)