Pax Gothica - Capital of Gholgoth!

[Xeraph]

The Emperor, none too pleased with Princess Sybele, stood and greeted Cross. "Mr. Cross, a pleasure." Tossing the fancy embossed napkin on the table, he said, "Walk with me. I think we have mutual interests as far as trade is concerned. Although I do not normally involve myself in affairs of state at this level, I am most curious about the Goth-Skyan overall operations. What your parameters are, what the availability of your goods would be on an on-going basis, and so on. Just the basics at this point. The Empire's trade concerns are handled by my nephew, Earl Ricard de Veurey, who is more than capable of hammering out a simple, yet productive, agreement. The Empire has vast holdings in all of the energy sectors both on Terra and out in the Galaxy. And of course, Xeraphian curiosities and delicacies are abundant." Amalric stood, once again admiring the view of the magnicent city. "Mr. Cross, I am impressed. I do not often admit when I am, and I do not say it lightly. Despite the large number of nations in our region, just a handful of them are really notable. We in Xeraph have been aware of the Gholgothans for centuries, but never had much in the way of contact. If it is amenable to you and your leaders, I would like to begin to change that."

Jhane put a finger to her ear, listening for a few seconds. Approaching the Emperor and Cross, she said, "Excuse me, Sire. We have more dignitaries arriving at the airport."

"Dignitaries? From?"

"Unknown, Sire. They are apparently being welcomed here, so there is no threat."

"Keep Prince Ricala apprised. He will report any untoward actions." Turning to Mr. Cross, he smiled and said, "I'm looking forward to meeting your guests, sir. Perhaps it can be arranged?"

[United World Order]

Pax Gothica District, Dreadfire Square
Gholgoth.

The Ordenite delegation after getting their accommodations for their stay in Pax Gothica situated would return to their private vehicles and head south towards Dreadfire Square. The skies remained grey as the cars came to a stop just outside the main square as the delegation exited their vehicles along with their accompanying Custodians. Hannibal Reichhold came out with his aides holding the door open for him and saluting him, his head visor cap visible to everyone and it's eagle and swastika symbol followed just below it by the infamous death's head of the Ordenite-SS. His military attire also included his Reichsleiter armband and his collar patches which identified his rank as SS-Obergruppenfuhrer. Reichhold also had several pinned medals on his chest, one being for injury during a previous tour of duty. Another was a unique medal that was given to Reichhold and others who specifically served in either of the several Krasnovan campaigns. The second to last pinned medal was achieved for completing over 10 years of service in the Ordenite Waffen SS, all displayed his own share of warfare in his time. While the final medal was from the National Socialist Party and decorated Reichhold for 30 years of faithful service to his ideals and his Ordenite race. Reichhold and his aides once reaching the center of the park were met with the tremendously large statue of what a plaque said was Gothic Lord Damien Dreadfire of the Automagfreek Empire.

"Lord Damien Dreadfire the first, a thing of the past now" An aide said while another one handed Reichhold a single Ordenite cigarette which was lit with a match. He drew in and then blew smoke as the conversation continued while gazing upon the statue.

"Slain in battle by the Capitol Police on the beaches of Milograd." An aide reading the information on the plaque said. The park was as lively as ever with visitors from all walks of life and creed walking about the center and also admiring the statue. The two Custodians accompanying them kept watch of what they were doing as some passer by's gave some discerning looks at the Ordenite delegation standing about the Dreadfire statue. They would soon after make there way to the square its self where several massive buildings stood which had different things to offer as the delegation came upon the new Gothic Hall and it's cathedral style architecture that was so prolific here. The Praetorium was next however like the Gothic Hall the delegation did not enter the actual building and after a few minutes moved on to the Hall of Heroes museum. Entering the Hall of Heroes it was obviously a more morbid place as it was a museum dedicated to those from around Gholgoth who had fallen in battle even if it was against one another. The delegation and the two custodians made there way through the museum as Reichhold and his aides made comments and talked amongst themselves, paying little mind to the two Custodians.

[Vhammpyr]

The Emperor, none too pleased with Princess Sybele, stood and greeted Cross. "Mr. Cross, a pleasure." Tossing the fancy embossed napkin on the table, he said, "Walk with me. I think we have mutual interests as far as trade is concerned. Although I do not normally involve myself in affairs of state at this level, I am most curious about the Goth-Skyan overall operations. What your parameters are, what the availability of your goods would be on an on-going basis, and so on. Just the basics at this point. The Empire's trade concerns are handled by my nephew, Earl Ricard de Veurey, who is more than capable of hammering out a simple, yet productive, agreement. The Empire has vast holdings in all of the energy sectors both on Terra and out in the Galaxy. And of course, Xeraphian curiosities and delicacies are abundant." Amalric stood, once again admiring the view of the magnicent city. "Mr. Cross, I am impressed. I do not often admit when I am, and I do not say it lightly. Despite the large number of nations in our region, just a handful of them are really notable. We in Xeraph have been aware of the Gholgothans for centuries, but never had much in the way of contact. If it is amenable to you and your leaders, I would like to begin to change that."

Jhane put a finger to her ear, listening for a few seconds. Approaching the Emperor and Cross, she said, "Excuse me, Sire. We have more dignitaries arriving at the airport."

"Dignitaries? From?"

"Unknown, Sire. They are apparently being welcomed here, so there is no threat."

"Keep Prince Ricala apprised. He will report any untoward actions." Turning to Mr. Cross, he smiled and said, "I'm looking forward to meeting your guests, sir. Perhaps it can be arranged?"

Prince Teii grabbed Amalric by the arm. "Forgive me, nephew, but I am concerned about all of these Goths arriving all at once. We know virtually nothing about their attitude towards Xeraphians. We may be mighty in our own eyes, but we may be nothing but inferior barbarians to them."

The Emperor grinned. "What's the matter, Teii? Getting hungry?"

"Not really, Sire. I've read extensively about Dreadfire and his attitudes about other empires. Though he may be dead, his culture is alive and well. No matter our might and power, we are essentially, to them, a peoples to be made subservient to their empire."

Amalric smiled. "Even if that were true, uncle, even Gholgoth would be hard=pressed to overcome the Xeraphian Empire. No, I think it best to talk, to come to an understanding. Violence is the last resort of the incompetant."

Prince Teii of Vhammpyr, a most fearsome being, grunted. "Very well, nephew. But be aware that I will instruct my legions to flood the Golghothan Empire with hundreds of millions of Vhammpyric Warriors if necessary. Despite your......hesitation....should our survival become becessary."

[Brettenwald]

0900 am, Brettain Royal Palace conference room:
Prince Marco of Ilmyria, Duke of Khaltovia and Brettenwald's temporary ruler, propped his feet up on the massive oak table and shotgunned an espresso in a single gulp.
"Remind me again why I'm flying to some islands in the middle of f***ing nowhere filled with a bunch of emo/goth/whatever-the-hell-you-want-to-call-them edgelords." The long-suffering Palace secretary Andrea Deacon looked pained, but it was anyone's guess as to whether it was from his Highness' attitude towards Gholgoth or the fact that a century-old antique valued in the mid-five figure range now had a pair of Calvin Klein dress loafers resting on it.
"With all due respect, sir, it's a valuable opportunity to extend our sphere of diplomatic influence. We could certainly learn a thing or two from them. Have you seen how quickly they built the city of Pax Gothica? They make the Chinese look like slackers. They also seem to be open to an embassy exchange, so that's something to keep in mind."
He sighed, brushed a stray lock of black hair away from his eyes, and swung his legs off the table. "Okay, you've got me. What do I need to know?" Deacon tapped a button on her iPad, and a projection screen rolled down from the ceiling. "Pax Gothica. Recently constructed, this mega-city serves as the governmental and diplomatic hub for the region of Gholgoth . . ."
(some time later)
". . . you can't bring your handgun, they have very strict policies about that sort of thing."
"Damn."
"A few other important things to note are as follows . . "
(a considerable time later)
". . . and we've received intelligence that a delegation from the United World Order is visiting as well."
Marco let rip with a stream of extremely foul language in Brettain. "F**king Nazi scumballs." He sighed. "I suppose I have to be civil to them. We don't want to cause any international incidents, do we? I'm leaving in 24 hours. Standard departure procedure, you know the drill. I feel safe traveling solo, so there's no need for anything other than normal security."
"Will do, your Highness."
(more to come)

[Brettenwald]

1852 pm, onboard Falcon One somewhere over the ocean:
The massive, emerald green Boeing 777X lumbered through the skies, flanked by a pair of SAAB Gripen F fighter jets from the Brettain Navy. "We should be touching down in around 90 minutes, your Highness", the stewardess said, poking her head out of the galley. "Excellent. Thank you, Marlene. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my quarters." Marco rose and retreated to the rear of the plane. He unlocked the door, and entered a luxuriously appointed bedroom. He queued up John Coltrane's A Love Supreme and drifted off into sleep. Outside, the fighters peeled off and headed back into international airspace. He was woken up by the sudden silence imparted by Falcon One's engines powering down a while later. "We've arrived in Pax, your Highness," his bodyguard Johnson called through the door. "Thank you, Johnson."
Marco checked himself in the mirror. Not a hair out of place (then again, with his genes they were never really in place to begin with), wrinkle-free suit, and a just-flashy-enough Carrino family signet ring. Showtime, baby.

[Havensky]

Above the skies of Gholgoth

As the Falcon One crossed into Gothic territory; the aircraft was greeted by a flight of Skyan Accipiter-class interceptors.

“Falcon One, this is Greeter Flight. You are cleared for entry into Gothic Territory. We will escort you into Pax Gothica International Airport. Please acknowledge and maintain your current heading.”

The stark white fighter jets boasted a single gold stripe that was painted at an right angle. They flew past the Brettain aircraft before making a sharp turn and gently coming alongside the Gripens where they stayed until the group made their landing at Pax International.

As Falcon One taxied down the runway, Lord Ambassador Yukari Alagon was already there to greet them. She waited along with four of her aides and a squad of Custodians. Each Custodian save one carried the flags of Pax Gothica, Gholgoth, and Havensky.

As the Brettain exited the aircraft and unto the tarmac, the Lord Ambassador raised her hands in greetings.

“Prince Marco, on behalf of the Gothic Council, I welcome you to Pax Gothica.”

As she said this, an aide came forward with a tray of small bread rolls and several small glasses of red wine which was quickly becoming the traditional greeting in Pax Gothica.

[Morrdh]

The Morridane party got through security without too much hassle, though there were some grumblings in Mordentish from some of the clansmen which Iwan silenced with a command and a hearty laugh. Though the Morridanes took great amusement in the security team's reaction when the clansmen presented their clan swords over for inspection. Iwan, in between chuckles, explained that the blades were part of Clan Oakenfist's formal attire and each one was tied with straps that so that they could not be easily drawn. At last, once everything was determined to be in order, the Morridanes were waved through security and allowed to proceed. They encountered the Kylarnatian welcoming delegation a moment and Iwan returned the greeting with his own. "Hail Legatus Luciana, it does so well ta see me and me kin welcomed so warmly."

"I do hope that this is the start o' the first o' many good relations 'tween me people and the fine people o' this region." Iwan continued, a warm smile never leaving his face. When Luísa asked to break bread, Iwan nodded and replied. "As they say, 'When in Fedala...'."

Iawn nodded to his clansmen to follow suit, then turned to Luísa again. "That would be most pleasing Legatus, though I shalt only bring a couple o' me clansmen. The rest I wish ta send ahead ta ensure our compound is in order."

[Kylarnatia]

Pax International Airport,
Pax Gothica

Luísa's face glowed at the positive response from Oakenfist. The rituals the Kylarnatians often performed could garner a wide range of responses from foreigners, some not always positive, so it made a good first impression on her to see that the Morridane were a friendly and open-minded people. It also allowed her to avoid the unenviable task of navigating an awkward or sometimes even outright hostile reaction that some of her colleagues had dealt with in the past. "Long may my luck continue." She reflected.

"Of course, Ambassador. I can have a separate vehicle take the clansmen you wish to your nation's compound while I take you and the rest of your retinue to meet with the Pro Consul. Please follow me." Smiling she then began to lead the way, as the press tried to get their last few shots of the group before they disappeared through a doorway leading to a passage designated for foreign dignitaries and officials. After a few minutes of walking, then eventually reached a sizeable private garage where vehicles sat waiting, accompanied by drivers ready to move at a moments notice. Speaking to an attendant, Luísa had two vehicles brought up: one large enough to carry the Ambassador's clansmen in one trip to their compound, while a spacious sedan pulled up for the Ambassador, his remaining clansmen and her.

As the groups split off and got in their respective vehicles and began to depart, four Custodes motorcycle officers also split off to escort the vehicles, two for each with one taking the lead and the other following behind. Leaving the airport the two conveys went in different directions as the sedan headed for Urba Gothica, the Kylarnatian district. During the drive the Morridane Ambassador and his retinue would be able to see many of Pax Gothica's major sites in the distance, including the spires of the Gothic Hall in Dreadfire Square and the Torch Building in the Skyan District. Then they began to cross the bridge over from the central Pax island towards Urba Gothica.

"I trust the journey to Gholgoth wasn't too arduous for you, Ambassador? With so much upheaval across our two great regions as of late, it's not too uncommon for us to hear of complications in transit." Luísa said half-jokingly as she made some small talk during the journey.

The Hall of Heroes,
Dreadfire Square

As the Ordenite delegation made their way around the Hall, their Custodian escorts kept their eyes on them. This wasn't in any way out of the ordinary, at least not on the surface. One of them - undoubtedly a Kylarnatian due to their height, standing well over seven feet - had heard how the Castellan had wanted them to keep tabs on everything the Ordenites did. As she had likely intended, the news of the Ordenite's arrival and her corresponding order had made it's way to the Custodes branch of Urba Gothica and then to the officer in question, as well as all the way to Krytopia. The Ordenite's had a consulate in Isna which was also heavily surveyed, for the Imperium was well aware of the growing files of evidence of cooperation between them and the Kraven Reich. For now they went mostly unchallenged, but with the growing tensions in both Varathron and Gholgoth proper, it wasn't unlikely that the Imperium Antiquum and Ordenite Reich would soon openly be on opposing sides.

Until then the niceties had to continue, even if begrudgingly.

Skyan Embassy

Pulling up just outside the Skyan Embassy was an adapted marked vehicle from Urba Gothica. As it came to a complete stop, the back opened up completely to unfold a ramp, down from which came Legatus Dux Kyle Lucius Jordanus, the Imperium's Ambassador to the Gothic Council. The senior diplomat, decorated in his full regalia along with medals and bars, had joked before Pax's opening that he wanted to spend his first official function enjoying good food and drink. Fortunately, the Skyans had provided, in the form of a reception for the mysterious Xeraphian Empire. Apparently, so Kyle had heard, they were interested in forming contacts and relations with multiple Gothic nations. For what purpose was unclear, but his inquisitive nature led him to want to find out more.

Wheeling into the Embassy, the ambassador was pleasantly met with the bright and vibrant colours of the interior. He always did admire Skyan interior design for their ability to design effectively for the functions of their buildings. His eyes skimmed over the room to see if he could see the guests of honour, and sure enough he spotted a rather distinctive gentleman who he recognised from his brief as the Xeraphian Emperor, and from the looks of it he was making conversation with a Skyan official. Making his way swiftly through those gathered, Kyle approached them both with a confident smile and jovial yet official tone in his voice.

"Your Majesty, Good Sir;" He bowed his head towards Amalric respectfully before turning to Cross and giving him a firm handshake with a clasp of the forearm. "Legatus Dux Jordanus, Imperium Ambassador to the Gothic Council. I hope I'm not intruding?"

[Xeraph]

...Skyan Embassy...


Emperor Amalric Tan'it held the man in a long stare before replying, "Yes, Legatus, it's good to meet you. Mr. Cross and I were just chatting about the possibility of our two Empires forming mutually satisfying treaties concerning trade, alliances, and cultural resources. Your position, I assume, is as Urba Gothika's Ambassador to the Gothic Council." He grinned and said, "You look rather young for such a position. You must be good at what you do."

The Emperor heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Princes Ricala and Teii standing just behind him. "Legatus Dux Jordanus, may I present Prince Ricala Tan'it of Auralinia and Prince Teii Tan'it of Vhammpyr. Prince Ricala is Direktor of the Xeraphian Space League and Prince Teii is titular ruler of the entirety of the Empire's vampyric nations." Glancing over his shoulder, he continued.

"Most of the larger nations of the Empire are ruled by my family, the Tan'its. We are pretty much a plain-spoken aristocracy. We find that being direct and forthright is a win-win situation for all concerned. Do you agree?"

[Kylarnatia]

Skyan Embassy

Jordanus met the Xeraphian Emperor's stare respectfully, his expression calm and inviting. All the staff of the Imperium's legatio were trained to maintain a friendly and calm composure in their interactions with foreign dignitaries, even if the atmosphere or tone was particularly hostile towards them. While that was by no means the case here, Jordanus got the impression that Amalric was keen to see how he'd react - he was a formidable man, after all - as an initial test of his character. Despite his youth, the Ambassador had enough experience to brush it aside with ease.

"You're very kind, your grace." Jordanus responded to his first comment with a smile and casual flick of the wrist as to politely dismiss the compliment. While eccentric at times, he was ultimately a very humble person. "I'm the Ambassador to the Gothic Council for the Imperium Antiquum - the Ancient Empire of Kylarnatia in the Common tongue - of which the free city of Urba Gothica is the latest edition, being one of the districts of Pax Gothica. Locals have already taken to referring to it as 'Angel District', a reference to my cultures' heavy symbology relating to angels, whom we call seraphim."

On approach of the Princes Ricala and Teii, the Legatus Dux acknowledged them both with a brief bow of the head. "A pleasure to meet you both, your highness'."

Turning his attention back to the Emperor, he nodded approvingly. "I agree wholeheartedly, your grace. Forthrightness and getting down to the brass tacks of issues is incredibly important, especially in the most initial stages of forming diplomatic relations with new political entities. With that said, I'd be keen to hear more about what you and Mr. Cross here were discussing earlier, and whether - if it pleases you - the Imperium Antiquum can join those conversations? My Caesar, acting not just as sovereign of all her people but also as the Gothic Warden of the North, considers it vitally important to be part of all new diplomatic efforts with extra-regional nations, hence my being here today."

[Xeraph]

The Emperor smiled. "Seraphim, eh? We as Xeraphians are very keen about our knowledge of, and interaction with, angels, particularly the Seraphim. Our Empire and our very identity originated with these celestial beings. Eighteen centuries ago, our people were but a relatively small tribe, one of a dozen that inhabited the island of Lemuria. It is recorded in the Book of Skelos that the seraph, Solonia, appeared outside the tent of our ancestor, Tanith, and requested entry. This was granted, and the angel bestowed a prophecy that our tribe would become the pre-eminent founders of a new nation. This nation was given the name, Xeraph." He glanced away for a second. "Pardon my pedantic rambling. If you want to know more, perhaps my uncle, Abbot Merton, could fill you in."

"As far as my discussion with Mr. Cross, I think it is a fairly simple idea: what you have will enhance our standard of living. Hopefully, what resources we have will do the same for yours. Beyond materialistic trade, we of the Royal Council are interested in political, even perhaps military, ties." Amalric paused. "I don't think I have to mention the immense potential of our two Empires working together. The region of Gholgoth and the region of Mercenary Lands would become the envy of the world. A synergistic entity, if you will." The Emperor made his initial pitch, and stood waiting..........

[Morrdh]

Pax International Airport,
Pax Gothica

Luísa's face glowed at the positive response from Oakenfist. The rituals the Kylarnatians often performed could garner a wide range of responses from foreigners, some not always positive, so it made a good first impression on her to see that the Morridane were a friendly and open-minded people. It also allowed her to avoid the unenviable task of navigating an awkward or sometimes even outright hostile reaction that some of her colleagues had dealt with in the past. "Long may my luck continue." She reflected.

"Of course, Ambassador. I can have a separate vehicle take the clansmen you wish to your nation's compound while I take you and the rest of your retinue to meet with the Pro Consul. Please follow me." Smiling she then began to lead the way, as the press tried to get their last few shots of the group before they disappeared through a doorway leading to a passage designated for foreign dignitaries and officials. After a few minutes of walking, then eventually reached a sizeable private garage where vehicles sat waiting, accompanied by drivers ready to move at a moments notice. Speaking to an attendant, Luísa had two vehicles brought up: one large enough to carry the Ambassador's clansmen in one trip to their compound, while a spacious sedan pulled up for the Ambassador, his remaining clansmen and her.

As the groups split off and got in their respective vehicles and began to depart, four Custodes motorcycle officers also split off to escort the vehicles, two for each with one taking the lead and the other following behind. Leaving the airport the two conveys went in different directions as the sedan headed for Urba Gothica, the Kylarnatian district. During the drive the Morridane Ambassador and his retinue would be able to see many of Pax Gothica's major sites in the distance, including the spires of the Gothic Hall in Dreadfire Square and the Torch Building in the Skyan District. Then they began to cross the bridge over from the central Pax island towards Urba Gothica.

"I trust the journey to Gholgoth wasn't too arduous for you, Ambassador? With so much upheaval across our two great regions as of late, it's not too uncommon for us to hear of complications in transit." Luísa said half-jokingly as she made some small talk during the journey.

"T'was fine, though me only complaint was the lack o' a good whisky." Grinned Oakenfist. "Though I must profess me reason fer being here is twofold."

"Theres the obvious one o' opening up diplomatic channels and relations." Oakenfist continued. "Fer good or fer ill, are respective regions are becoming increasingly involved in the affairs o' the other. I got sent ta ensure those relations develop in the Commonwealth's favour, or at least give Morrdun the heads up on events as they occur here."

"The other reason is o'...historic value. Many centuries ago when the Commonwealth was the Kingdom o' Mordent, explorers sailed far and wide sowing the seeds o' wot became the Commonwealth. We have records o' such a group sailing far inta the east, but their fate is unknown ta us."

"Recently we've been involved with the Golden Throne's war against the Scandinvans - those trice-cursed slavers - and our detachment o' troops have encountered some o' the Scands' 'indentured'. Curiously, the heritage o' some o' 'em suggest they had Mordentish ancestors. Me government wants this investigated, but thus far has kept quiet 'til we have something solid on the matter."

[Kylarnatia]

Skyan Embassy

Jordanus listened with interest as the Emperor explained his people's encounters with seraphim. It left him curious: were these the same seraphim to which his own people were accustomed? Solonia was a name that didn't ring a bell, though he was no theologian. He had always found the foreign definitions of seraphim and angels to be very diverse - same for daemons - so there was no telling on the surface what the deeper implications could be spiritually speaking. He did, however, know someone who likely would. "That is indeed quite fascinating, your grace! I'm sure your uncle would be able to tell me many a great tale, though I admit I'm a diamond in the rough on those matters outside of my own scriptures - I would however encourage him to visit the Gothica Basilica in Urba Gothica, and perhaps seek to speak to Archpriestess Venator; I'm sure the two could have a rather lengthy and fruitful discussion on the topic!"

When the Emperor gave his brief pitch, the senior Legatus smiled. "A solid pitch, your grace. I have no doubt such arrangements could potentially hold many boons for our great civilisations. If you seek to make these arrangements with Gholgoth as a whole, that will of course require input and deliberation from the entire Council. Luckily, Pax Gothica provides the opportunity to make such a thing far more practical than it used to be. I'm sure that my counterparts here in Pax Gothica would be keen to convene a meeting at our earliest convenience and consider your proposal in full, as well as deliberate on and negotiate the finer details.

So tell me: what sort of materials and resources is it that the Xeraph seek? What is it that you have to offer?" He thought it best to approach trade first, as the military cooperation might be a stickier topic: with the war against the Scandinvans still fresh in everyone's mind, quite a few Gothic powers would be reasonably cold to the idea of further foreign military presence without beneficial or practical reason.

Urba Gothica

Luísa listened politely and intently as Oakenfist spoke. She was finding the Mordentish accent oddly charming, quite foreign yet easy to follow. Nodding as he went along, her interest clearly peaked when he mentioned the potential heritage of some of the Scandinvan slaves being related to his ancestors. She tried not to let her mind wander to how many Kylarnatian explorers in aeons past may have fell to the same fate: no evidence had arisen to suggest such, but the island of Drana was elusive and full of mysteries, so who could tell.

"An intriguing development, Ambassador, and I certainly hope you and your government are able to ascertain the truth. To my people - as I'm sure to yours as well - slavery is seen as a barbaric practice, and often as a fate worse than most others. Historically my people used to be enslaved to the previous lords of our homeland, but the Mother's embrace kept us whole even as they would try to divide us. Eventually, through poor decision-making on their part and an emboldened sense of self and collective identity on ours, my people became the lords of the mighty Seraphis. Such is just one of the many chapters in our long, continuing history..."

As she continued to tell the Ambassador more about her people, having been inspired by what he had shared and in order to help pass the time, Oakenfist would likely notice out of the corner of his eye the transition in scenery. As they crossed the bridge from Pax proper into Urba Gothica, the large direct motorways - which was rather sparsely populated save for a few heavy freight vehicles and personal vehicles with clearance to drive, as Urba Gothica was designed to be almost completely carless - was surrounded on both sides by an abundance of nature. Lush fields and hills beside a long flowing river with forests in the distance, the view only broken for a few seconds by high-speed maglevs carrying both passenger and freight - soon gave way to a more urban environment as their car drove directly into the centre of the city, into what was known as the Forum District. It was a perfect example of the Kylarnatian tradition; a carefully planned urban sprawl on the east side of the main artificial river that ran through the district in which both the political and religious spheres perfectly intersected, being both artistically and ritually expressed in both monumental structures and lived spaces. Perhaps the most stand-out to the Ambassador would be the Gothus Basilica, a grand temple of the Silvier Sacerdotium faith, with tall spires piercing the sky and large stain-glass windows along the walls of the hypostyle hall showing images of the Grand Mother and the Archseraphim, the columns within decorated with reliefs of priestesses and followers attending to the many rituals and practices of the faith.

Driving by, Luísa would point out to the Ambassador the one-hundred and seventy foot tall obelisk known as Silvier's Needle at the centre of the District. Made almost entirely of obsidian topped by a golden pyramidion, it was erected within a large decagon-shaped fountain basin at each corner of which there were statues representing the Ten Sons, canonically believed to be the sons of the Grand Mother and the most powerful of the Archseraphim, who were the Aspects of the fundamental elements of the universe. On each of the four faces of the obelisks plinth, brightly coloured fresco's displayed clear profile views of the Caesar, her figure much grander and visible than those of others in each scene. Each represented her in a different way, each important to her role: as a Commander at the head of her vast armies vanquishing the enemy, as a Stateswoman giving instruction to her subordinates, as a Philosopher engaging in symposia and commanding great knowledge, and finally as Mother giving life and guidance to the souls of her people and caregiver to the world both natural and civil.

Yet their destination lied a little further beyond, as they drove up the ceremonial route towards the Pro Consul's Residence. A palatial villa set within a large garden space, the car actually stopped just a short walk from the building itself. Luísa guided the Clansmen down a neatly placed walking path and up to the entrance of the building, which while luxurious was nothing too grand by Imperium standards: three floors with the first spanning out into a roof garden above them, overhanging a still pool of fresh running water. The building's exterior was entirely white marble supported by colonnades and bare in terms of outward features save for the large glass windows and doors. As they made their way they would be saluted by the guardsmen and women stationed and patrolling round the complex.

Inside was a little more extravagant, though still quite modest: chandelier's hung from ceilings decorated with scenes of nature in gold while the floors were a dark red. The furniture - mostly tables and seats for waiting or lounging at this level - were dark oak and expertly lined. Each corridor to their left and right branched off into wings which were divided between living quarters and staff quarters, while ahead of them was a wide staircase that led up to the upper floors. At the top of the main staircase was a large mural painting depicting the Caesar sat upon her throne dressed in full regalia and crowned with a solar halo, the Mandate of Avaris resting in one hand while the other rests firmly upon the hilt of the Blade of Avaris. Leading them up the stairs to the first floor, Luísa brought them to a grand set of double doors at the south-facing end, gesturing for them to wait just a moment as she went before them and entered. As they waited, a keen observer would notice that the top of the portal was inscribed with Seraphic words, reading: Primus brachium eius.

Not two minutes later, Luísa returned, and beckoned them to enter. This was the main study of the Pro Consul; along the walls of the long rectangular room which looked out onto the roof garden were bookshelves filled with books new and old, save for one compartment on the right side which housed a bust of Caesar crowned with a golden wreath in the shape of angel wings, accompanied with a host of medals and medallions awarded for service. Back towards the windows sat the large dark oak desk of the Pro Consul, and behind that more cabinets: one housed an entire set of ceremonial legionnaire armour with accompanying gladius, while the other was a drinks cabinet with an assortment of beverages. On the desk itself were the traditional trappings of a work-space, along with the personal touches of a few picture frames facing towards the occupant.

There she stood. Pro Consul Consentia Petasia was a senior stateswoman in her matriarchal years: an old face alluring to past beauty though with a grit and determination giving the sense that she was a woman who had fought hard in said past, both literally and metaphorically. Despite her faded looks and grey hair, her bright blue eyes still looked sharp and laser-focused as she - standing at just over six feet and seven inches tall - studied the men in front of her. Dressed in a dark double-breasted jacket with white shirt and matching trousers, she seemed to be bare of any jewellery besides a simple pearl band around her neck. Eventually breaking a polite smile, she stood forward and walked directly towards Oakenfist, one arm outstretched to greet him with the same firm handshake Luísa had given him at the airport, clasping his wrist: she too had once been a military servicewoman.

"Ambassador Iwan Oakenfist, I am Pro Consul Consentia Petasia of Urba Gothica. I'm very glad to be able to meet you today and talk with a representative of Morrdun. From what the Legatus tells me..." She paused just briefly to pass him a glass of Sky Marshall Whiskey which she had been carrying in her other hand, seemingly prepared for him. "...we have a lot of interesting things to discuss."

[Free Kolechia]

Receiving Room
Pax International Airport

The four new arrivals were greeted by Lord Ambassador Yukari Alagon in a well decorated room. They were also greeted by local bread and ale. Abukhan did not drink alcohol but accepted it (and the bread) regardless. The other three did drink to varying levels, and were truly thankful for the token of kindness. Abukhan looked to Yukari and produced a warm smile as he walked in, "Thank you Lord Ambassador! It is an honor to meet you, my name is Abukhan Sheripov, these are my companions Vakha, Durgali and Murad." He motioned his hand passed them each to introduce them, each of them nodding to Alagon. "It is also an honor to see this city, this great and immense project your region has produced. I have no doubt that the achievement of its massive completion, will be joined with achievements in diplomacy, business, and entertainment. We have come all this way to discuss a wide variety of topics that may, depending on your interest, involve your nation and others." Abukhan did not have a habit of making speeches but after his small introduction he awaited Lord Ambassador Alagon's reply.

[Xeraph]

..Skyan Embassy..

The Emperor smiled. "Mr. Jordanus, let's be frank. I'm sure that, aside from a few isolated oddities in both our Empires, that there are'nt really any goods or resources Pax Gothica possesses that I want or need, and the reverse is true as well. No, what we in Xeraph are interested in is out there." Amalric pointed up into the night sky where stars shone brightly.

"We have an extensive presence out in the galaxy. Planets, Star Systems, and the like. Our Space Fleet is growing steadily with a four-to-one emphasis on merchant ships to warships. We are most interested in searching for and identifying whatever it is out there that might make our respective Empires greater. Research and development of space travel, new medicines and treatments for our people, the discovery of new species of life, no matter the complexity and culture. Planets, moons, stellar sectors, mining in the asteroid belts. And perhaps even going beyond the known galaxy just to see what there is to see." The Emperor was silent for a few seconds, then said, "The risks and costs are enormous. But.....doesn't that make it even more exciting?"

[Vetalia]

Bank of Vetalia Tower, New Vetalia, Pax Gothica, Conference Room 112.1, Floor 22 10:00 am

The Bank of Vetalia Tower was one of the tallest skyscrapers in the Vetalian district, a massive Art Deco edifice with panoramic views of Pax Gothica from its uppermost floors and offices.

The meeting held today had no view at all, being a sterile conference room deep in the middle of the building. It had a plain glass-top wooden table with glass ashtrays accompanying each of the admittedly comfortable but rather cheap chairs, harsh fluorescent lights overhead and was provisioned with the world's most unremarkable set of water glasses, mugs and decanters filled with ice water, with a coffee maker off to the side with a pot of freshly brewed coffee for his guests along with several plates of very good bagels and cream cheese from the bakery down the street for a late morning snack. Mikhail had chosen a totally forgettable location for an unforgettable meeting. Two speaker phones sat in the middle of the table but were unplugged, at least for now. From one side the cubicle farm on this floor was visible through a set of windows covered by Venetian blinds and various employees were visible walking around outside in the cube farm until Mikhail closed them and began the meeting.

"I would like to welcome each of you individually, to make all of you comfortable that you are not alone in your concerns about the current circumstances. First of all, I'm Mikhail Algorin, CEO of the Bank of Vetalia. Around the room we have:"

He motioned to each person seated:

"Mr. Viktor Blokov, CEO, Vetalian Tobacco, Mr. Demid Kamenkov, CFO, Vetalian Telephone and Telegraph, Mr. Michael Bedford, CFO of the Pan-Gholgothic Mining Corportion of Vetalia, Mr. John Waylandov, COO, Vetalian-Londinian Consolidated Motors, Mr. Ivan Zhutov, CEO Belinsky Petrochemical, and last but assuredly not least, Propraetor Ms. Maria Uvanova, representing the Enclave of Paradise City, Blackhelm Confederacy whom we all fondly know from our time here in Pax simply as 'Masha'." A murmur of good-natured laughter arose due to their knowledge Masha's reputation among the Vetalian expats at the bars around Pax, to which she responded simply by lighting a cigarette and laughing along with the rest. Not one of them could judge her by any stretch of the imagination based on their own behavior.

Turning to the CEO of Vetalian Tobacco she motioned and said "This is a Prima, by the way, Viktor, in case you were wondering". He laughed and pulled out his own pack, and the rest of the group followed her lead and soon there was a steady stream of blue cigarette smoke drifting up to the ceiling to be whisked away by the air purifier. Mikhail took this time to light his own cigarette and dive into his presentation.

"Again, welcome, all of you, I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedules to attend this meeting. I've also received many emails, phone calls and letters from others who are unable to attend stating their support which you can peruse at your leisure." He placed a thick stack of papers on the table, copies of printed emails, official letters and phone call transcripts from across the Vetalian world for the assembled to leaf through. "I've prepared some remarks on the following slides to start off this meeting and sum up the key points so that we're all on the same page about the crisis that threatens our homeland..."

He turned on the projector to show his presentation, taking a drag from his cigarette before continuing to read what was written as he clicked through each slide.

"There are certain matters that have come to the attention of myself and various other members of the expatriate community here in Pax interested in the future of Vetalia. Firstly, there are discussions among the government-in-exile to pursue what they call an 'Exodus', an abandonment of the territories of Vetalia to instead seek out new lands rather than to fight for what we have. The costs of this:

"-200 trillion rubles of capital assets, although at this time considerably deteriorated due to occupation and damage by the State, totally lost."
-23 billion Vetalian citizens displaced and stateless, to be scattered through as yet-undecided future 'enclaves' which are currently nonexistent in even the most nominal terms
-Complete cessation of sovereign Vetalian territory to foreign occupation, including the lands we have held since time immemorial with no provision for reclamation
-No guarantees of military rearmament to defend our new territories, if reclaimed from any power in the region
-No restitution or reparation for the damages caused by the Reich or other powers that have violated our sovereignty in the years since the War"

"I can go on and on about these points in detail but the fact is that this plan is simply unconscionable! We will abandon our homeland because Praetor Repina doesn't want to fight for it, I really don't see any other logic behind this plan besides our people once again caving in the face of foreign pressure. Vetalia was once the richest, most economically powerful nation in this entire region but is now nothing but a puppet state of the Reich ...and the free Vetalia is a scattering of enclaves and a tiny sliver of an island at the mercy of Gholgoth"

"But what do you think we should do?" A voice, Mr. Kamenkov from the back.

"As you know, the Ordenites have arrived in Pax and are no friend of the Reich. Several of our members have had unofficial contacts with them and they have voiced their support for a reclamation and rearmament of Vetalia. I move that we reach out to them and spend some time discussing our options regarding the situation in Vetalia, operating as if we are a shadow government outside of the jurisdiction of the government-in-exile." He stubbed out his cigarette and lit another.

After a period of silence, Masha replied, the sole Vetalian government official in the room. "This would be a coup, treason, though, or at a minimum civil insurrection! If the government finds out we would all be dead!" Murmurs throughout the conference room are quickly silenced by Mikhail raising his hand.

"The government-in-exile has no real legal jurisdiction here, I've read the incorporation documents and they state that the government in control of this district is specifically defined as the government in control of Vetalia City. The originals are there in the stack of papers if you would like to read them. Signed by Praetor Melnikov and notarized by the Senate of the Republic of Vetalia in 2005. If the State wanted to, they could assert their authority over us tomorrow and there would be nothing us or Lydia and the rest could do about it. Thank God the State is more busy burning book like these than reading them!"

He continued. "And if Lydia wants to arrest us for treason, we can appeal it and it will be thrown out for this very reason, the documentation is clear about who owns New Vetalia and I don't think she wants to invite the State to Pax more than any of you do by pushing a case like this. In time we should be able to bring her around to her senses."

"I would like to take this resolution to a vote before we continue. I would like to move we submit this resolution to negotiate with the Ordenites independently of the government in exile to a vote. Is there a second?

"Second!" Mr. Bedford raises his hand.
"All in favor of taking this resolution to a vote, say aye"

"AYE!" The vote was unanimous.

"Excellent, motion carries and at the end of the meeting we will discuss this some more, vote on the formal resolution and discuss the representatives to the Ordenites, but in the meantime will move onto the next item on our agenda: port tariffs and import excise taxes to New Vetalia and the proposed modifications regarding items shipped from Vetalian enclaves...also, please help yourselves to the coffee and bagels, lunch will be provided around 12:30 or so. I ordered some great party subs from Geraci's down the street!" A murmur of approval arose from the news of subs from Vladimir Geraci's, one of the best delis in the Vetalian quarter or even in all of Pax.

[Vhammpyr]

..Drakul City, Vhammpyr..

Any semblance of sunlight was blotted out in the dank caverns of the Underworld of Drakul City. The main city-state of Vhammpyr was home to the elite of the vhammpyric world. Ages past, it had been a simple camp consisting of the tribes of the Kothites, the Brujah, the NightWings, and the Scanyan-Magogg clans of the undead. There were, to be sure, many other associates of the blood-beasts, as the civilized world called them. But Prince Teii Tan'it, uncle to the Emperor of the Xeraphian Empire, held such tenuous connections lightly. Vhampyres were vhampyres. Certainly not the storied and fanciful creatures of old Hollywood......that was just ridiculous.

Nonetheless, the legends had served the tribes and clans well. The Vhammpyric Warriors were the backbone of the vampyre regions, and with efficient reason.

Aside from the single defeat of the legendary vampyric empre of Acheron at the hand of the Lemurian conqueror, Tanith Lei, the Warriors had never tasted defeat. How can you kill something that was already dead?

So it was during the back-and-forth negotiations with the Gothik Princes that Teii, Prince of the most feared region of Mercenary Lands, sent a sub-space missive to his three sub-rulers. Duke Thanos, Duke Azriel, and Baron Cimitere were now gathered deep in the mountains of Acheronn wherein lie the massed legions of Vhammpyric Warriors. Nearly one-hundred twenty million Warriors lie in stasis, encased in a chryaslis-pod, ready to be released into a world of belligerence. A world where only massive force of arms would decide the balance of power.

The nobles of Vhammpyr stood before a holo-map of the Gothic Empire. Duke Azriel remarked, "A tall order, eh, m'lords?"

Thanos replied. "Fucking amateurs! They burn everything and so think all they need to do is rest on their reputation. Teii knows better."

Baron Cimitiere was not so sure. "My lord Duke, we may have billions of Warriors, but the legacy of Dreadfire is not to be dismissed lightly. All those Gothik Lords can send in forces that rival ours. Even with Black Shadows, Auralinia, the Katanas, the Xeraphian legions, we'd be hard-pressed to push through to victory!"

"The Prince has not indicated any sense of readiness for war beyond his own personal view of the PaxGothican meetings. You all know Teii: kill all problems. That's his solution to most all military situations. And....in most situations, it works. If you have a problem, kill it. Problem solved."

Duke Thanos nodded. "Yes, brother, but the Gothic Empire is not your run-of-the-mill problem. Simply relying on overwhelming numbers will not erase the problem. They and their allies are ruthless, violent, and efficient killing machines. I would be hard-pressed to predict a favorable outcome against them."

Azriel said, "So, is there an actual problem with the Goths? Maybe Teii is a bit anxious in this situation."

A voice from behind them said, "No doubt. But with these fucking humans, we cannot be sure of any of their stated intentions." Al turned to see Princess Sybele of Ssyn, resplendant in a gown of violet-black magnificence, gold and silver flashing at wrist, waist, and neck. All three bowed in her presence as she was the blood-sister of Emperor Amalric.

Statuesque, fully seven feet tall, she stood garbed in a diaphenous cloth-of-gold cloak over her deep purple dress. Her city-state of Ssyn was legendary, even in MercLands, as a place of sorcery and death to those who were considered unbelievers.

"Let me tell you something of these Goths, m'lords." She glided over to the large table which held an ancient map of Terra, one that told a vastly differnt story of history than that of the current world.

"We can't be absolutely sure, but it may be that these fucking Goths are the descendants of the Kothic Empire of Acheron that Tanith defeated some 9,000 years ago. If it's true, then we need to be allied to them. We cannot, and should not, try to defeat them in any arena of power. All we need Teii to do is encourage Amalric to forge strong contacts with all of the various Gothic Lords. If it comes down to it, we must come to the realization that we can divide the known world of Terra between us and the Goths. It's the best we can hope for. Anything less is futility."

At that point, the giant holo-map flickered to life. It showed Vetalan operatives plotting...............something.

[Morrdh]

Iwan listened as Luísa spoke at length about her people, though interjecting to give comparisons with Morridane culture. During a lull in the conversation, Iwan mentioned about how Clan Oakenfist was the Commonwealth's premier astro-miners and the Clan's history of military service going back centuries. He fielded the Kylarnatian woman's questions with ease and responded with a few of his own as the car made its way towards whatever destination beckoned to it.

Iwan arched an eyebrow when the car pulled up in the grounds of a grand villa, though he didn't comment on the matter. Nevertheless, Iwan and his Clansmen followed Luísa inside the building, taking a moment to behold the extravagance of the interior. Curious at the turn of events, Iawn's interest was piqued as he quietly took in the details of his surroundings. At last, Luísa led them to an office where a much older woman waited and was introduced as the Kylarnatian Pro Consul.

"Ah, Pro Consul." Iwan said, stepping forward and taking the offered handshake. "Ye do me a great honour as well as a pleasant surprise."

"Indeed." Replied Iwan as he took the glass of whiskey. "A great many things."

[Havensky]

Castellan Burnham of Pax Gothica was sitting in her office when one the Vetalian Ambassador to the Gothic Council barged into her office.

She rose instantly fearing the worst kind of trouble, “What is it? Are we under attack?! I always knew the cappers would go after us someday”

The man, who still smelled of cigar smoke, shook his head almost playfully.

“No, but this is a matter of urgent importance. This is a matter... of commerce.”

Burnham blinked.

“Excuse me?!”

“It’s the holiday season! The most glorious time of year when people willingly depart with their hard earned cash and this year they should do it here!”

“You barge into my office to talk about having a sale?”

“YES! Think about it! You need tax revenue to fund our defenses and all this new construction. We’re in a duty free zone. I mean, sure, Pax gets a cut but let’s not let details get in the way of this opportunity!”

Burnham thought for a moment.

“Alright, let’s have a big sale.”

* * * *

“I don’t understand why they have to pull me all the way to Pax every time the Lords want me to give them an update on the war. I could just call in.”, muttered Major Squall as he walked arm and arm with his fiancé down Market Street in the Skyan Republic District. The district's brick and mortar shops were strung up in lights. Holiday wreaths adorned each door and there were children running up and down the streets singing silly songs. Here in Pax, the war seemed very far away.

Edwidge smirked, “You’re not complaining about getting the chance to see me are you?”

“No! No, of course not! I just..”

“I know, you feel bad when you leave the troops at the front even though it's part of your duties as Praetor. Oh, look a little doll shop! Let’s go grab something for my niece!”, she said leading Squall inside.

The shop was cozy and smelled of cinnamon with rows and rows of dolls and action figures on display. She stopped in front of one booth with two small Gothic flags in front of it.

“Oh look!”, Edwidge said excitedly as she started to go through the booth.

“They’re little dolls of Gothic leaders! Here’s the Caesar, Queen Jessica, and ...oh my goddess!”

Her grin grew wide as she picked up a doll with an uncanny resemblance to one Gothic Praetor Gavin Squall. Squall immediately turned three shades of red.

“You’re an action figure! And look! It even has you in cute little Heartbreak Company armor. It’s adorable!”

Squall tried to find words, but had no real comeback to Edwidge’s teasing.

“Oh honey, get me a little Squall doll! Please baby!”, asked Edwidge in a super sweet and almost certainly teasing tone.

[Vetalia]

Pax Vetalia

Mikhail and his 10 year old son Ivan were walking along the streets of the Vetalian quarter under the glittering fairly lights (or Christmas lights, as proper Vetalians called them) and festive Christmas wreaths looking for good loot to pick up for Christmas presents and passed by a toy shop, in whose window was one of the most beautiful and detailed model kits that had been seen in years. It was the First Fleet of Vetalia, of War fame, and offered at a reasonable discount: 25 Pax Rubles or 2,565,000 State rubles. The two admired the model set with its detailed weapons and box art that showed the fleet storming through a rough sea, Vetalian flags flying. Mikhail drew from his Vetalian Navy career and pointed out the ships to Ivan.

"Those are Davidson-class battleships, son, that were built by a great friend of Vetalia to help make our navy strong. And these are Melnikov-class aircraft carriers, some of the largest ones ever built in Gholgoth. They're so big you would look like an ant on the main deck, buddy. They could carry 150 aircraft, and a few thousand sailors on top of that!"

"Wow, really!?"

"Even better, your old man served on one of those ships back in the day, the VSS Flavia Davidson. Biggest battleship in the Vetalian fleet...look, it's here in the set!" He pointed to the huge battleship in the model fleet with with its massive command tower. "Imagine me there as a young buck only a few years older than you, with a full head of brown hair up on the main deck saying 'Aye-aye sir!' He smiled and jokingly saluted Ivan before playfully tousling his son's hair.

Ivan laughed and said "I want to see the real thing when we get some time, Dad, Davidson battleships and Melnikov carriers Dad, nobody could stop them!"

"Well, son...there aren't any more Davidson battleships or Melnikov carriers."
"Why, dad?"
Mikhail paused, a look of pain passing over his face before continuing. "I'll tell you when you're a bit older, it's not a story for someone as young as you, sport...but I'll make it up to you. I'll buy you this set, and you and I can put it together when we get home and I can tell you some of my Navy stories...provided your mom doesn't find out." He winked conspiratorially at his son. "Your secret's safe with me dad!" Ivan replied.

Mikhail went into the toy shop and bought the set, placing it in his son's arms. "Keep it safe, buddy, that's an entire fleet in your hands...or should I say 'Admiral Ivan'?" He smiled warmly at his son again as he pulled a cigarette from his pack and lit it. "Will do dad, the fleet is safe with me!" Ivan clutched the package close to his heart.

"Now, let's go get ourselves some pretzels with extra salt and some spicy mustard from the cart on the corner!" Mikhail exclaimed, his son following eagerly behind.

[Havensky]

Prime Minister Lance Atticus looked at the latest in reports tracking Kraven Deathships between Cydonia and the Ordenite Reich. Every nation in Gholgoth had satellites looking down on the Reich. He swirled the coffee around in his oversized mug and thought for a moment.

Come to think of it, every nation in Gholgoth probably had eyes on every other nation in the region. Havensky certainly did.


However, that didn’t solve this current problem. There was enough going on in the region already without another facisist state starting to trade favors with the Kraven Reich.

“Mr. Titan, what’s your recommendation?” Atticus asked the voice on the other end of the secured phone line.

”Sir, there’s not that much to do at the present time but to keep an eye out. Their vessels never cross into our territorial waters nor the waters of our allies.”

“Thank you Mr. Secretary, but I think there’s another option. What would you say to some good old fashioned diplomatic rattling? Just to let them know we’re watching?”

* * *

The Chamber
The Gothic Chamber was built inside the very heart of the Pax District inside Gothic Hall. The Chamber was dug out from the earth inside the center of the cathedral structure making the chamber much bigger on the inside than on the outside. At the ground floor of the main hall stood the statues of the original founders of the region. Each of the statues stood about five stories tall almost extending to the height of the hall. While the statues were larger than life, the cavernous chamber swallowed up their visages.

Lord Ambassador Adlai Fox was a short man with a booming voice and dark balding hair that seemed to enjoy the theatics of the building a little bit too much. He wasn’t quite as young as he used to be. The days of him barnstorming as the former governor of Crystal City were long over, but he had enjoyed his new role as the Lord Ambassador.

His latest assignment assignment had been… particularly interesting to say the least. He wasn’t the prosecutor that his brother had been, but he had been prepping for this meeting ever since he had the call from Atticus.

The move had made sense. One of the rights of the Gothic Lords and their designates was to summon ambassadors to appear before the Gothic Council. While Havensky couldn’t order the Ordinate Reich to stop trade with the Kraven Reich or spill their real intentions. However, they could make a big show and let the powers that be know that they were watching.

Fox had sent the letter to the Ordinate Ambassador through a courier stamped with a very large Gothic Seal to help drive the point home. On the appointed day, Fox settled into his seat on the Gothic Council and waited.

UWO Ambassador Arrives

Leopold von Rahn made his way into the Gothic Chamber which was within the Gothic Hall in the heart of the Pax District. He was well on his way to hitting fifty years old and had a receding hairline due to his age. He wore neutral clothing a simple all black suit with a small red pin which displayed a Ordenite swastika, the pin signified his membership within the Ordenite National Socialist Workers Party. However Rahn did not wear anything that signified his occupation to the Ordenite Schutzstaffel. He stood before the Gothic council facing Lord Ambassador Fox as whatever he was summoned here for was set to begin.

The Questions

“Thank you Mr. Ambassador for joining us. The Gothic Alliance thanks you for your cooperation in this matter.”, Fox began as he leaned back into his Gothic throne. Each Gothic nation had its own large chair carved with each respective nation’s symbology. Fox’s own chair featured the Skyan Winged Lion nested in the branches of the same King Crimson Maple tree that adorned the Pax Gothica flag. Fox didn’t need a microphone as the chamber was constructed specifically to carry the voices of those at the dais.

“As we begin, I’d like to ask you to clear up a disturbing rumor for me. Does the Ordenite Reich engage in human trafficking?”

“Human trafficking? Lord Ambassador excuse me but I was not told I was going to be put on trial for what you are saying is a rumor? No, the Ordenite Reich does not engage in human trafficking nor any form of slavery unlike some nations among your region’s alliance may partake in.”

Fox snorted, “So, the Kraven Deathships going from your territory to his are just transporting cookies?”

“While we have a trade agreement with the Kraven Reich, it is purely economic in purpose and in no way involves Deathships going to and from any Ordenite port.”

Fox frowned and began to pull out high resolution photos of the Deathships travelling along the route from UWO to Kraven’s port in Cydonia. A Confederate aide then carried those over to Ambassador Leopold von Rahn.

“I’ll let you study these for a moment. Do you deny their uncanny resemblance to the Deathships? It seems odd to use these ships rather than the standard Resource Ships… Don’t you think?”

Rahn studied the photographs for several seconds but did not answer Fox’s last question on the resemblance of the ships to Deathships. Instead he turned to face General Adrianus Miles as he began with his own questions pertaining to Varathron.

“I, also, would like to add my thanks for joining us today, Ambassador.” General Adrianus Miles affixed the Ambassador with his full attention, straightening slightly in his chair. “Ambassador, I would like to begin by discussing Varathron. What is the legal basis of your occupation of Dietsland?”

“The legal basis for the liberation of Dietsland”. Rahn began. “Was that it had been brought to our attention that Ordenites were in severe danger, having their been troubling reports of unrest in Dietsland and we could not stand by and allow Ordenites to die without our dire intervention”

“I see.” Miles looked down at his notes. “Could you tell us why the peacekeeping mission was removed from Dietsland?”

“When Dietsland was brought back under order from the trouble that had been plaguing it there was no need for this peacekeeping mission to stay any further and from what I recall was allowed to leave peacefully.”

“There have been some disturbing reports from Dietsland. Can you speak to the treatment of the Freekish population in the country? And what of the native aboriginal population?”

“These reports you speak of regarding the Freekish population are nothing but fallacies. I can ensure you and the rest of the Gothic council that all is well in Dietsland.” Rahn did not include the aboriginals in his response as the next question was asked.

“Ambassador,” General Miles fixed the ambassador with a predatory stare. “Would you explain to this body what Ordenite soldiers are doing in East Varathron fighting alongside the Kraven Reich?”

“From what I know there are no soldiers of the Ordenite Reich fighting alongside Kraven anywhere, General. You or your subordinates must have got the intelligence wrong.”

Fox cleared his throat for a moment.

“Then perhaps you can enlighten us as to your government’s interest in the region? Feel free to use this opportunity to set the record straight.”

“The Ordenite Reich’s only interest in the region is Dietsland and only Dietsland.”

[Free Kolechia]

Receiving Room
Pax International Airport

Lord Ambassador Alagon had been very kind and welcoming, and upon his acceptance and interest in Abukhan (and his companions) mission, he handed over an official document to the Lord Ambassador. It was an official request for the establishment of an Embassy within Pax Gothica. As far as Abukhan was aware they were among the first to arrive and make such a request. Officially his superiors weren't really certain how getting an Embassy up and running would work in Pax, as the Goths could be different in their handling of things, many of these people and nations were quite old and ancient as well. Abukhan made it clear then and there to Lord Ambassador Alagon, that they were willing to work on making it as easy as possible if the Goths accepted.

Републиц оф Колецчиа I Republic of Kolechia
Оффициал Цорреспонденце I Official Correspondence
(To:) To: Castellan Evelyn Burnham
(Фром:) From: Timur Eldarkhanov Minister of Foreign Affairs

"Greetings Castellan Burnham, my name is Timur Eldarkhanov. I serve the Republic of Kolechia, from the region of Greater Dienstad, as its Minister of Foreign Affairs. It is only on rare occasions that I reach out in such an official capacity. Normally my staff assist me in this manner, leaving me to take care of important events and meetings etc. However, this is not a general item on my list of work and that is why I have contacted you directly. I hope this request for conversation does not find you over burdened for work, I understand you have been at the front of important and large projects.

My President, Sergey Safadi, and his government wish to establish an Embassy within Pax Gothica. We believe doing so would be very beneficial for us, and all Goths. We seek to establish political and economic relations, as well as dialogue. Our region is engulfed in war, pandemics, and instability. We understand that the peoples of Gholgoth face their own issues as well. However, I firmly believe that Kolechia and Gholgoth can maneuver around this, and form a new approach in business, international relations, and security.

If you and your staff are willing to allow and assist us in establishing an Embassy in Pax Gothica, we are committed to assisting you in anyway possible that may speed up its completion.

-Sincerely, Timur Eldarkhanov"

[Havensky]

Castellan Tower
It was easy for the Castellan Tower to be overshadowed by the much larger and intimidating Gothic Hall to it’s direct north. It was, however, perhaps the world’s largest municipal building.

The bulk of the Gothic style building was thirteen stories high with a single tower rising out like a lighthouse. The pure alabaster walls marred only by the stained glass windows depicting branches of a crimson tree. At a distance, one could see how all the window designs came together to form one immense Crimson King Maple - the symbol of the city.

The fifth floor of the building was the home of the Department of Extraregional Government Affairs. It was this department that took care of all manner of incoming requests from tour guides from VIPs, to security arrangements for visiting dignitaries, and embassy requests. While a Skyan served as the Castellan, the staff was composed of an assortment of bureaucrats from throughout the region. An Anagonian Confederate staffer reviewed the letter making notes in her system.

“Let’s see… one of the regions we’re interested in hosting… no major security concerns… no mention of problematic size requirements. Looks good to me. Alright, where to put you… where to put you…”

The Castellan had already designated certain parts of the city as ‘embassy rows’ and it just so happened that the region of Greater Dienstand had a row all to itself. The planners had dubbed it “The Golden Row” featuring several amenities including a park to the west side of the ‘row’ and a river feature to the east of it. This had the effect of mimicking the Deinstandi color scheme - which Burnham had felt was a nice touch.

“Ah! There we go. 201 East Golden Row… alright.. Just need to type this up and send it upstairs.”

To: The Honorable Timur Eldarkhanov; Minister of Foreign Affairs - Republic of Kolechia
From: Castellan Evelyn Burnham on behalf of the Gothic Council of Gholgoth

Minister Timur Eldarkhanov,

I was pleased to receive your letter requesting an embassy in Pax Gothica. The Gothic Council has reviewed and approved your request and has authorized the Pax Gothica Department of Extraregional Affairs to facilitate the construction of your embassy.

We have reserved a plot of land for your embassy at 201 E Golden Row located in the Embassy District of Pax Gothica. A description of the site is included in this letter with photos and layouts included for your review.

Please feel free to contact my office with any questions.

Best Regards,

Evelyn Burnham
Castellan, Pax Gothica
Region of Gholgoth

[Free Kolechia]

Kolechian Embassy
Pax Gothica

Shirvani Khadzhiyev had just finished a glass of tea ("Chai") and set the empty glass down on his desk, located in his new office. He had arrived some days prior, and stayed in a hotel while the last bit of work was completed at his new job. It was not a regular or simple job, for him it was a new chapter in his career, and for his country a new chapter in its history of foreign relations. Ambassador Khadzhiyev would represent Kolechia in Pax Gothica, and to the Goths themselves. The Embassy sat on about an acre of land, in a newer section dedicated to nations from across Greater Dienstad, which guaranteed Shirvani would be seeing nations and people more familiar to him. To him personally, there was no doubt that this was done on purpose, the grouping of embassies from Dienstad, but it was not some type of serious issue, more so a simple observation.

Shirvani himself was of average height and weight, he had dark hair, blue eyes and a light complexion. He usually carried an expression that seemed to tell everyone he was deep in thought. He was a hard worker, enough that he was often told by those that cared about him that he should take breaks more, and that was a goal he had in mind, even with this new assignment. He was looking to make some type of balancing act, where he could do both and find some way to keep work out of his personal life and free time. It was not uncommon in the world of diplomacy that ambassadors to foreign countries change often. However, historically Kolechia did things differently in this area. An ambassador, once assigned, had total job security. Most ambassadors stayed on until they themselves felt it was time for retirement or something different. At worst they would be asked to fulfill their role until a proper replacement could be found. Ambassador Gairbekov was the most recent official to deal with any type of incident, which for the diplomatic world of Kolechia was still the most well known among officials, though it was now a few years ago. Kolechia suffered a break down in relations with another country and Gairbekov had to leave.

Many if not most people who serve as ambassadors to a foreign state, often have knowledge and connection to that country, as if they specialize in it. Again, historically Kolechians are somewhat different here as well. After Gairbekov returned he ended up becoming Ambassador to AHSCA, where he remains today. Those who work in diplomacy for the Republic are often encouraged to thoroughly study any and all nations and peoples they are interested in, or have a connection to. Kolechians who worked and studied in diplomacy could be broken into two large groups: those who were interested in Dienstad, and a smaller group who were interested in beyond the region. Shirvani was naturally the latter.

The embassy building itself was design wise, a copy. There had been debate on whether a whole new design should be used, or given the symbolic importance of this being the first embassy outside of Dienstad, and also being in Pax itself, something that would immediately give anyone who saw it, a direct look at Kolechia and its architecture. In this case the building was to be a symbolic copy. It was decided that the local government headquarters for Kashgar would be used. The embassy then was three stories tall, and rectangular in shape. The first and second levels would house various offices that were usually located in an embassy, the top floor would have Shirvani's office and family living quarters. The lowest levels contained squared windows and designs, but increasingly arched as it rose higher. The key importance of the top floor design wise, was a popular columned and arched patio. It was painted with a tan type coating all around, invoking a type of warmth, summer type feel to it. It was a look and style of building well suited to a city, or perhaps somewhere over looking a body of water. For Shirvani one of his favorite activities was being out on the top patio, looking out into the distance in the evening with some cold sweet tea.





The rest of the grounds were quite simple. The main building was located within a square shape plot. The entrance was gated with a security checkpoint, and a wall ran around the entire complex. There was a separate building which served as a security guards headquarters, and then also a large garage building, both sat off to the sides. A road ran from the main entrance and went straight to the main building and circled back around to the main entrance, which had an entering and exiting route. Just in front of the main building was a tall pole with the flag of the nation adorning the top. At night and early morning the flag was illuminated by lights which sat at the base of the flag pole. The flag itself was a sign to all that this was a Kolechian Embassy, it reminded all who lived and worked inside of home, and also served as a national exclamation point.

Shirvani had several papers on his desk, much of it related the opening of this new building. He picked them up and began to give each one a glance, as the building came to life to fulfill its over-seas mission.

[LOVE DOG]

Greystone, Estate of Caesar Jason Scotus Lupus
Transylvania, The Greater Dominion Kingdom
Of the United Dominion

Birds sang outside in the trees near the medium size airbase on the estate as men readied for combat. They stood inside an empty hanger, monitors flashing with blueprints of the target location. Images of known suspects, which will probably be the last time they will appear normal. Order were made cleared for this mission; with extreme prejudice. Within the United Dominion, there was some type of conflict, big or small, on the daily. The enemies of the Dominionite way of life try to take root, but Dominionites are warriors so they raise up to take the bull by the horns. Today the enemy to be leveled into the dirt was a small group of 'monster hunters', twenty men and woman total plus a number of childern whom have been linked to a number of missing vampires and werewolves in the Transylvania region of the Greater Dominion Kingdom. So the Count, the One and Only Caesar Jason Scotus Lupus, turned his focus on the issue that was happening under his nose.

The Count reached into his ranks for this mission, the United Dominion Armed Forces wouldn't have a part in this. This wasn't an official operation for there wouldn't be a record of what was going to happen in the coming storm about to be unleashed on these 'monster hunters'. He chose some of his veterans within the Black Wolves, these men whom obey all all orders from the Count. These men, a total of ten men, bore the pride of the body armor systems of Timber Wolf Incorporated, the Transylvanian body armor Series One MOD VI in flat black with the white tribal wolf of the Royal House of Wolf on each shoulder armor piece. They didn't have their helmets on as they checked their weapons to make sure everything was ready for what was about to come. Each of the ten soldiers of the Black Wolves were armed with LY46 'Hellhammer' .50cal handguns, along with four extra magazines loaded armored piercing ammunition. Eight of them were armed with battle rifles based on the FN Scar-H platform cambered in .338 Lapua Magnum, along with eight extra magazines loaded armored piercing ammunition. The other two Black Wolves were armed armed with pump shotguns loaded with "double-aught" shells and slugs. They were also armed bladed weaponry, it was a mix of axes used by the Danes and Roman Legionnaires.

There was also another being in the hanger, a large man in a red and gold armor with silver eyes and long silver hair sticking out of his horned helm. His armor like his helm sported red horns on its shoulder pieces. A black cape hung nearly to the concrete floor of the hanger. This man didn't carry any type of firearm, no, around his waist were a number of short swords. He was a member of one of the many military orders that call the twisted beast known as the United Dominion as home. He was a Goremonger, one of the full legion that pledged allegiance to the Count. This man, a Jagite whom had escaped the horrors of Cydonia with the retreating Dominion embassy staff, was known as Primus, Commander of the Goremonger Legion of Lupus. Jagite by birth, but he was a loyal son of the United Dominion now.

A low growl entered the air causing the men, even Primus, to look over to one of the corners of the hangers to where what one would describes as beasts rested on the cold concrete floors. Two wolves, of the Nathaniel Vladimir breed famous throughout the United Dominion, also waited to enter the coming battle. The wolves were of the same litter, twin brothers. Standing from their feet to the highest point of the back of five feet five inches, their length nearly seven feet two inches. Both brothers weighted in closed to two hundred pounds. Black leather spiked collars around their necks, which were linked to titanium linked chain leashes. Their ice blue eye stared at the beings in the hangers. They were known as Geri and Freki.

As the men readied themselves within the hanger, that madman as known as Fenrir of Transylvania was readying himself in his private office. The office was decorated like one would picture the office of a rich egotistical lunatic. Blood red wall colors. Dark leather furniture. A too large fireplace for basically no reason. Bookshelf lining the walls that didn't have windows or the door. A crying servant woman, around twenty years old, in the corner in the fetus position.

The Count was dressed in what would be his normal wear; the darkest blue jeans, a white button long sleeve shirt with a maroon vest over it. On his feet looked like a brand new pair of stingray cowboy boots. A weathered black duster. A black velvet cowboy hate rested on his head, casting a shadow over his eyes.

The Count smiled wiping the blood off his lips as he stared with his lifeless gray eyes at the dual Predator III heavy pistols, 13 x 30mm magnum, laying on his dark wood desk. Five extra magazines for each pistols next to them. These would be all he would need. He light a cigar with a match, taking a few puffs before he placed the pistols in their place. One on his right hip and the other in a shoulder hostler on his left side. Each of the extra magazines were placed inside his duster, each one locking in place in hard plastic cases.

He leave the office, walking down the short hallway into the hanger as the ten Black Wolves were locking their helmets into place on their heads. Geri and Freki rose as their handlers called them over to their side. The sound of rifles being cambered, shotguns being racketed, entered the ears of the Count. The leashes of the two massive wolves were taken by their handlers. The Black Wolves and the Goremonger were readied for the bloodbath about to come.

A smell of sulfur entered the air to the Count's right as a being stepped from a cloud of black and dark purple smoke. This being's body was covered in short red fur with black spiked hair, his eyes were glowing orange like the Sun. An expensive three piece white pinstripe suit covered his body, something that wasn't normal for the mayhem about to come. Like the Count, this being as gone by many names throughout the ages; Damien Black, Xeg'drothan, Hades, Morningstar, the Ageless One and many more. Currently known as Dark Father Kurt Essex.

They formed up, the Count and the Ageless One at the point with Primus behind them. Geri and Freki, along with the two handlers behind the Goremonger about six feet and six feet apart. The rest of the men spaced out around the other men. Black and purple smoke started to appear out of nowhere, dancing around them as they were pulled from the hanger into a harsh version of the real world. The smell of brimstone, sulfur grew strong through the air as the Ageless One reached out with his powers. Inhuman screams echoed in the distance, but all the men ignored whatever made the noise. Too focus for the den of 'monster hunters' was coming.

Bright lights entered their eyes as they appeared in the cloud of smoke on a street. Something had gone wrong for they should have been inside a warehouse within Transylvania. They weren't even the Greater Dominion Kingdom. Jason looked over at the Ageless One whom was confused as much as the Count was. This had never happened.

“Where are we at?” asked the Count as Geri and Freki howled, both ready to tear into flesh. There was a strange, but familiar pull that the Count felt in his soul.

”Pax Gothica...but not Fenrir District.” started the Ageless One, his voice of many voices; both sex, old, young, children. The Tower of Idols cast a shadow on the thirteen men. “Sin...”

“Shit!” growled the Count, taking in his surroundings.

This was about to be fun...