The Mystria Prosperity Convention [Closed|ATTN Mystrians]

[Imeriata]

"The Malgraveans and Kouralians has the right in the matter of things, muddle nay the issue with bringing up the loathsome Wharen, good is it that such a foul breed is gone! Long since slain and laid low by our forebearers, But thusly we speak on the topic rights are to be granted unto all subjects of all great monarchs, and of the lesser elected lords and princes. To suggest that the situation of all people are akin to that of the Wharen that through their actions collectively gave up the right to draw breath akin to how a man that slay another gives up his very own right to draw breath! Thusly the judgement was passed and thusly it shall be!" Primus said rising up and holding up his head high and mighty.

"However, you ask which gods granted the rights? It be very little impas as all gods lay down the right duties that are to be honoured by the liege lord unto his servants similarly as they lay out rights the servants have unto their liege! We will lay our crown aside..." he said as he unfastened his cloak, a clear sign as he spoke not as the patriarch and dynast, however despite his words did he keep the crown on. "... and we will speak as the spokesperson of the gods! Let it be remembered that our divinely appointed position is nay only the works of the blessed children that spawned from the rose that once burned, nay be our right to rule solely the blessing of the fierce unconqurable sun, nay be our right solely the blessing of the two faced goddess Ishiri! Nay be our right those three pantehons lonesome, our blessing and our words come from all gods, great and small, thusly we speak on the matter, thusly thy own god speak on the matter; The right of the sovereigns are nay rights and rights solely, there be also duties and responsibilities granded amongst those rights! Thusly the answer is; it matters little what god or gods from which the rights of any subjects are protected as they all offers rights unto a servant and subject!"

"We thusly echo the Malgravean and Kouralian viewpoints that the rights should be ensconced as secular rights blessed by all gods of all religions and not just one pantheon and one pantheon alone!"

[Rohane Alista]

Her Glory the Regent stood once again, intending to keep the battering of the ‘Catedonian’ arguments continuing. “Some might find it ironic for Rohane Alista to announce we are of similar mind to the unified Crown Alliance here, but it is the truth, and potentially it is progress.

“We do not and have never intended the declaration to have any mention or homage to any god at all. Indeed, as all here should likely know, it is the truest belief that in Rohane Alista, rights do not and cannot come from any form of deity, nor do such beings have the ability to remove or revoke any such things. Sapient rights come from the mere fact of being sapient creatures.

“If anything, arguments about the role of the gods in such rights only make us more fortified in our belief that such a declaration is needed. Gods and deities should be removed from the question of the basic rights altogether, because they have no role there, having never been the ones granting the rights in the first place. There are no true divine appointments that allow one to circumvent these restrictions on the state.

“As for Catedonia’s second argument, it seems to us quite clear that issues of accepted burial practices and such are outside the proposed limits of this document. This is simply a list of minimum, basic, and essential rights that nations must adhere to before Rohane Alista will be willing to cooperate with them. All this to say we also believe this should be a secular document, all traces of deities firmly and unforgivingly removed altogether,” she finished, before sitting back down.

[New Dornalia]

Gerald almost couldn't quite believe what was happening.

Emphasis on almost, as he had been around long enough to know that religion, like in any clime and place, was a sensitive subject. As the old Dornalian saying went, two men with opinions on religion could enter and somehow produce three opinions. In a place like the Mystrian region with powerful magics and fantastic yet very real creatures and entities of all sorts, this was doubly true. That being said, this whole debate over the source from which sapient rights derived seemed to be more than a little trivial. By the Great Globbulous, it was certainly an unwelcome diversion from the topic of space travel and a pan-Mystrian space entity. Not illogical given what Gerald knew, but still puzzling.

Gerald then coughed and went, "Well, I s'pose, taking things more directly back to space for a moment....first off, the Colonial Republic wouldn't mind joining an initiative between the Ascendancy and the Great Civilization to help guarantee the independence of the Mystrian region from outside interference. Secondly, I don't imagine the Colonial Republic would object to the formation of a pan-Mystrian spacefaring entity. And we certainly wouldn't be objecting to promoting indigenous space travel and exploration capabilities by the peoples of Mystria through efforts such as training and so on. After all, what's good for Mystria is good for the people of Dornieland."

Kaang of course, did not mention the fact nations like Aravea and Malgrave were being allowed to send cadres of fighter pilots to Edwards AFB to receive spacefighter pilot training--besides, that was something best kept on the quiet side, given the current context.

He then said, continuing, "Given the concerns over national sovereignty, particularly from our colleagues in the Rohanian delegation, I believe that any such pan-Mystrian organization may, for now, be best kept as an information-sharing and networking enterprise between individual space agencies, where various space agencies in Mystria can share useful scientific discoveries and suchlike, maybe get together on research projects, et cetera. Certainly, any such organization ought to be able to eventually launch joint exploration missions and do more, but for now, I think 'baby steps,' to use a colloquialism, might not be a bad idea to start with. Why, something even closer to the Kouralian proposal for a multilateral group dedicated to stellar exploration and research could be a good avenue. Either way, baby steps."

Gerald then finally, addressing the others, "As for the Sapient Rights issue--I'm with the Rohanians, Malgraveans, Kouralians and the Imerians. A Sapient Rights Declaration or what have you's gotta be neutral at least in regards to religion, if not secular. Besides, getting stuck on religious particulars, to use another colloquialism, would be ensuring that all of us here would be unable to see the forest for the trees. The proverbial forest being, of course, the purpose and content of a Sapient Rights Declaration. Which by the way, we'd be willing to endorse depending on how it turns out."

[Legokiller]

President Fluffykins gave an unamused look at the Catedonian delegation who used such arguments and religion to deny basic sapient rights over ‘which god gave it.’

“Us Silverrdaleans do stand with our fellow friends on the Declaration of Sapient Rights to be secular as such disorder is ill-advised to the building of harmony. Of course, it does bring up a question on our side on ‘would we accept monsters like demons as equals’, to which the short answer is yes. As those same demons with the desire to come to live in peace and become civilians in our nation, as there are numerous examples like the Archmage Aqua did from being a former evil a millennia ago.”

Fluffykins then added in. “Furthermore, we Silverdaleans find it quite unreasonable for this ‘universal burial practice’ to be addressed here in this conference. This matter should be left to the individual nation and its local communities.”

[Dyste]

Prime Minister Gnomekicker listened patiently to all the arguments while deciding on his own opinion on the matter. "Now, I understand we all have our own deities we follow... well, unless you do not at all," he acknowledged the Rohanian view on the subject. "As such, I do not believe it suitable that we follow the tenets of one of them specifically, as there are bound to be contradictions between other views in other nations. I wish to get things done, not mull over who buries what way." He was admittedly getting tired about all the burial talks, feeling that it's a matter of the individual nations.

"Of course there are matters that differ from nation to nation; in a realm as diverse as ours, it is only natural. There are fundamental rights that I feel everyone can agree on for all people." The little kobold had a surprisingly steely gaze, "If you have a problem with this, I remind you that we are all witnessing this conference."

[The Ctan]

As Ichtaca’s aides spoke to her Telissat watched her carefully, examining the fear on her face, he had no regret for raising the topic, silence was complicity, that had been the mandate under which his predecessor had been removed, and that was the mandate he intended to fulfil now, but he did not lack empathy, he could see the position that it put her in, and the priests both, but when the two spoke, he said nothing. He watched carefully, and considered speaking in reply, but he did not want to lead the conversation too much, when everyone present was capable of seeing through the pretense.

As Primus spoke, the C’tani representative nodded in respect to what was said, “Our esteemed Imerian friends speak well of such things, in all but the most Tyrannical societies, duties are owed by the leaders to those they rule, and not being used for foul soul-sundering practices must surely be high among those that are forbidden.” He was not going to let the Catedonian representatives move the goal-posts quite so easily.

Telissat inclined his head toward Gerald, “I am glad to have your support,” he said, and indeed it was an approach that had been designed to garner Dornalian support, as of all the interested parties with a presence in the region, the Menelmacari were even more tight-fisted with technology than his own people, the Dornalians were keen to promote their interests through strategic uplift. A mix of both approaches was hoped to be able to balance concerns on all sides and within his own government.

“I think though we can say that there is a firm preponderance of support for a basic understanding of sapient rights that does not frame itself in overtly religious terms,” he said.

“With that, I would like to address one more topic before lunch; Prime Minister Gnomekicker, would you like to talk to us about teleportation transit laws?”

[Dyste]

The Dystan Prime Minister's ears perked up, not just at the talks about lunch (he had sandwiches prepared), but since the matter of teleportation laws have come up, something the Dystans had considerable experience and insight into. "Thank you," he bowed his head to Telissat, "Ahem... well, the fact of the matter is, unless you live in Rohane, it is likely you have experienced some form of magic users in your nation, whether they be from your own land or visitors from another. Dyste in particular are known for its Mages; you may have heard of some, like Queen Sarisa Crescent, or her nephew Rylux, but there are many, and this can of course be a concern for other nations, especially when it comes to the use of teleportation."

"Transit is a big deal no matter where you live, and the idea of simply moving from one place to another is quite appealing, I would imagine. Of course, I would remind you it's never that simple; not every Mage can use such magic, and even if they can, there is often a limit on how many can move at once or how far... which I will come back to in a moment, but for now I can understand that you may have concerns on its usage. After all, what stops someone from using it to break into another's home, or use it to go into a secure government location? Or for stronger mages, even teleport from one country to another without proper clearance. Well, Dyste naturally has spoken about this very question, and we have laws in place for those sorts of situations. For example, regulations about entering private or secure properties, or not using magic to teleport to another nation without the express permission of that government. Naturally it is one thing to be able to simply say it is illegal, but we do have wards available to protect locations... I cannot say they are 100% foolproof, a strong enough user could in fact bypass that, but if I'm honest... if someone that strong is able to bypass it and does, well, you have other concerns."

"Of course, there are specific circles such as here in Crystal Spires that can be used by the general populace, and indeed, such transit has been used by many nations. So long as they are legally sanctioned and regulated, I see no problem with these. But on the note of distance... what if I told you it is possible to teleport between planets? Miss Snowtear, if you please..." the kobold looked back to Marron, who was chatting with the elven maid from Silvedale and a dwarven woman from Terradin. He gave a steely glare in that direction, causing the dark-skinned elf to sigh and come up.

"Um, yeah, hi, I'm Marron Snowtear, and I'm... I guess I'm an ambassador from my homeworld of Chione to Dyste?" She wasn't quite sure of the full details, but that was what she was expected to say. "Yeah, Mam... erm, my mother the queen has been working with the Dystans on a way to move between our worlds so I can see my family and also help diplomatic relations, or something, I guess?" She shrugged.

The Prime Minister sighed, before showing some pride, "See what I mean, though? Imagine not even needing ships to move between worlds! We could go to places like New Dornalia in an instant! Of course... this is incredibly advanced magic, only the strongest Sages within Dyste are even capable of such a feat. Still, imagine the possibilities, we could connect Mystria to our interstellar allies even faster! ... erm, of course, and regulations would have to be made for them too, naturally..."

[Legokiller]

“Such capable power is incredible to achieve, why of course,” Fluffykins remarked. “Of course, any regulations would have to regard the maintenance, inspection, and license to own a private teleportation circle to be functional and used well. As well as entire codes of zones where teleportation magic would be allowed to be used by the public as destination sites. That includes a special mark upon one’s passport to allow common usage of teleportation between countries.”

Fluffykins decided to have a light wink to Princess Marron. “As for planetary travel, we’ll have to discuss with both New Dornalia and Chione to open specialized magic circles to establish a reliable port of teleportation. I am sure Miss Snowtear will be happy that Silverdale, alongside our expert mage Ms. Goldenheart, would be open for such talks.”

[Alduinium]

Rather than let the subject die, one of Ichtaca’s ‘aides’ seemed rather willing to argue with Telissat against the slight, stepping forth ahead of Ichtaca once again.

“You miscategorize one of the greatest ecological and societal advantages of the Dragon States and Catedonia willingly. You ignore that more than 90 percent of our stock of soul gems come from the industrial slaughter of animals that feed our people. You ignore that those condemned to execution within the Dragon States and Catedonia are hardened criminals, terrorists, daedric cultists! You would condemn our achievements over the suffering of those least deserving of sympathy? You would let the murderer, the defiler, those willing to consort with demons, to continue to threaten the world with their continued existence when they could instead be used to fuel the life of those more deserving of it? ”

The Dragon Priest was clearly incensed, though her tone remained rather calm. Ichtaca could only try and keep her face from showing any further concern, though it became increasingly clear that she had little power over her own aides here.

“I do feel like classifying all forms of soul manipulation, especially those regarding convicted criminals who would be executed by law regardless. I could not see why one would remain opposed to this unless one were also opposed to the general concept of the Death Penalty, something I am unsure most Mystrian states are willing to agree wholly with.” Ichtaca added her own piece of damage control.

[Imeriata]

"You speak as if the sources of the souls bear any relevance on your sins!" an outraged call came from the federal delegation. A woman dressed in black robes and hood, her face covered entirely in a silver mask wrought in the likeness of a gentle motherly figure took a step forward, only her body proportion and her voice served as an indication of her gender.
"Your speech mentions but beasts and outlaws like that would negate the crime! What does that matter? You are perverting the world with the souls of the dead! No matter if it is but beasts and outlaws it is necromancy and should be held in outrage for what it is!" She called out.
"Indeed! Your allegory of the death penalty is incorrect as that is only the death of the body, not the immortal soul!" A man called out, dressed in the uniform of the royal guard.

[Alduinium]

"Should the soul of those who worship the King of Rape be preserved? Should the soul of those who would defile the youth as part of some dark ritual be allowed to prosper in death? Should the soul of those who would massacre all in the name of Destruction and Revolution be given amnesty in their passing? Spare me this talk of the so called immortal soul when I am merely ensuring that those… undeserving of a peaceful slumber in Aetherius.”

The Dragon Priest was quite blunt in her take, viewing the Imerians with little more than what could perhaps be gleaned as annoyance beneath her metal mask.

[Malgrave]

Nadzieja rose to speak shortly after the Imerians had finished speaking, the Prime Minister taking a few moments to calm herself down by reading the notes that she had taken since the start of the conference.

“I must agree with the comments made by the Imerian delegates, as while Malgrave reserves the death penalty for those we judge have committed acts of treason against the state and her people we do not destroy an individuals soul in the process, we simply execute them and leave them to be buried in disgrace somewhere were the body can provide no scientific or any other benefit to the people,”

Nadzieja then tapped her pen against her notes, a small but confident smirk appearing on her face before it disappeared. “You claim that only daedric cultists, hardened criminals and terrorists are transformed into these so-called soul gems but what exactly is a daedric individual in the eyes of the Dragon States? I understand that everyone in this room that doesn't follow the ways of your cult could be described as daedric and therefore eligible to have their ancestral energy stolen for this energy source and by virtue of that and other information we've received on your state I truly doubt the legitimacy of the charges levelled against those you claim are terrorists,”

Nadzieja jotted down a few additional pieces of information based on the reaction her previous remarks had garnered,

“You keep speaking of the ecological and societal benefits of this form of energy, however, by your own admission it requires killing on an industrial scale which I note isn't required in the various forms of energy employed in Malgrave from solar, wind, tidal and wave to name a few. If the representatives of the Dragon States and their occupied holding wish to continue with this cruel practice then I see no reason to interact with them on an economic level and I can say I eagerly await becoming more informed on the scale of the atrocities being committed.”

At that Nadzieja sat back down, only for Eliot Reymont, the Minister of Foreign Affairs to stand in her place,

“I wish to briefly touch upon the earlier topic regarding magic and transportation, now I will start by agreeing with what was said earlier in regards to the difficulty of teleporting across a large distance, ” Eliot said, the Minister pulling out a small device similar in appearance to a crossover between a VR headset and a pair of glasses, “It has been noted that an individual needs to be familiar with a location in order to transport to it in a safe manner, so MalTec have been working on an interface to allow people to gather that information through a virtual interface before travelling. It could also be linked with existing transportation infrastructure, however, we were hoping to get support from the Dystans, Spireans and Silverdaleans on some of the finer points regarding ancestral energy or what you refer to as magic, a collaborative project to further peace in the region,”

Eliot then sighed before looking at those gathered in the room,

“I share the issues raised by my Prime Minister, as by willfully engaging with the Dragon States and their occupied holdings we are promoting a system of power that is willing to conduct horrible atrocities for the sake of energy production, so I say that if the Dragon States isn't willing to engage in reforms then they should reap the whirlwind that they've sowed over the decades.”

Eliot and Nadzieja then bowed softly to the room before waiting to hear from the other delegates.

[Imeriata]

"'tis up to ye to dish out such punishments?" The woman, also in this case encased in a metal mask, retorted. "With what right do you claim to be such noble people when carrying out acts as worthy of the condemnations as those you claim to be convicting? You speak of justice and treatment while you are as black and as accursed as those you condemns, you and they alike are as worthy of a quick death for through your actions and theirs you both have revoked your very right to draw breath!" she retorted, if the she and her kin was given a disdainful look from their opposite was it hardly anything compared to the utter hatred and revulsion visible on the federal subject's faces. Quite a few made the sign of the rose ablaze with their palms and fists to ward of whatever unclean taint necromancers would bring upon the room. A couple of them made their hands move to amulets of various kinds and other still made a simple solar glyph in the air with their hands. One particularly pious individual held out in one hand small fetishes depicting various gods with their heads burning bright and glorious, a small statue of a naked youth in his early teens, with a bow in one hand and the severed head of something in the other, and finally a naked woman with the feet of lions and a pair of wings on her back with two faces on her head, one kind and motherly and one twisted into a horrific mask of fury and hatred. There was even a sun and moon symbol amongst them and what looked like a particularly cheep knickknack grabbed from some ASG souvenir shop. In his other hand did he quickly swap through the solar glyph, the fire sign, and the invocation of the two faced goddess in both her forms.

"Indeed, now as far as these teleportation laws, the federation keeps our ways and our laws on the matters are laid out, we are however willing to co-operate small scale within those framerates to ensure such activities does not overwhelmingly benefit those more reliant on technology than ourselves and our fellows over the native population!" Primus added to the discussion of teleportation, he did however not seem to rail in his subjects on the topic of necromancy.

[Glaristant]

(Cowritten with Dyste)

[b]Glaristanti Royal Airship Grunvaldr

Skies over Crystal spires

Amidst the backdrop of a seemingly endless blue sky a flight of six sleek silver fighters cut through the clouds, never breaking formation as they escorted their charge. Their charge, a massive silver airship with six contra rotating propellers gradually floated down towards the grand city that lay below, all the while its passengers readied themselves for what lay ahead.

During the past a thirty years the Grand Duchy of Glaristant had pursued a policy of strict isolationism, with any contact with the outside world being highly regulated. Glaristant’s isolationist policy had been enacted following the ascent of Grozherzog Eyvel Arnheim and her supporters, a group of military hardliners known as the Iron Hearted, supposedly as a means to ensure that the country would never again fall prey to the whims of foreign powers. When combined with the harsh crackdown on the country’s nobility and criminal elements by the newly empowered police services, the country’s relationships with its traditional allies had been strained to the breaking point. Things had worsened to the point that many of Glaristant’s most prominent citizens had fled to its neighbor of Dyste or Silverdale. It had seemed as if the country would forever remain under the cloud of military rule and isolation, but without warning the country had sent envoys to its former allies. Said envoys had brought news that the country had fallen under the rule of a new Grand Duchess following a massive assault on the city by the forces of the abyss, who it appeared was a hitherto unknown daughter of the King of Dyste.

“Or so it seemed” a silver scaled dragon like woman wearing a fine dress of black silk that showed off her muscular figure mused, as she felt her aide tightening the silver sash on her dress. The woman, a towering individual at ten feet with flowing white hair, let out a long sigh as she looked towards her servant with her turquoise eyes. “Oi….I think that is a wee bit too tight, Karla. Other than that….I trust you do not mind handing me my overcoat, would you? I know Bracel wishes for me to wear this, but I...do not know if it is suitable for the occasion…”

A woman who would’ve looked like a human were it not for her height, being only slightly shorter than the draconic being, handed the coat. She had dark purple hair and yellow eyes, wearing a lavender dress that matched the style of the duchess “You’ll be fine, Ey-erm, Veleon. Besides, knowing her, this is actually a bit tame for her tastes,” She chuckled, “Remember, you’re here not as some paladin, but as a diplomat. If Tynah can manage that, surely you can.”

Veleon quickly donned the coat, smiling as she twirled giving her servant and guests an eyeful. She gave Karla a quick peck before taking a seat on one of the nearby leather couches, tapping beside her as if to beckon her servant to join her, “Indeed, I suppose it is rather conservative for her tastes. Nevertheless, I suppose you do have a point my dear. I need to act the part of a diplomat for once. Honestly...it is going to be a bit of a headache. I suppose it cannot be helped though.” Veleon sighed as she pulled a cigar from her overcoat pocket, lighting it as Karla gave her an annoyed look,“Fine….I’ll kick the habit once we’re done here, fair enough? At any rate, did either of you hear anything about what we should expect from our fellow attendees?”

“Well, we’ll be dealing with people from lands such as our allies in the Dragon Sea Alliance, members of the Crown Alliance, and the C’tan, for starters,” Karla said, joining Veleon on the couch, “The likes of the ruler of Imeriata, the President of Silverdale, the Regent of Rohane Alista, and the Prime Minister of Dyste are among the attendees… not to mention your father, of course.” She was a little annoyed at her smoking, but trusted her word on quitting. “So what are you planning on speaking of at the conference, Your Grace?”

Veleon nodded as she recalled the dossiers she had read over on each of the rulers Karla listed, with her ears perking up when she heard about the Prime Minister and her father being present. Her relationship with the two, especially her father, had been rather cold over the previous few years as they had viewed her prior self’s policies as being far too authoritarian for their liking. In particular the manner in which she had dealt with the nobles who had opposed her had earned her quite a bit of chasitizing from the King, who had threatened to break off ties with her when he had heard.

Yet, as she looked to Karla then their other guest, she could not help but feel a bit of relief as she remembered all that had changed since then. Not just her, but Glaristant itself had quite come far since those days, she mused as she replied, “I see, well it will be interesting to deal with them. As for your question….It is simple, my priorities at this conference will be to ensure the creation of a multilateral agreement to regulate transit between the material realm and the other planes, the recognition of Glaristanti sovereignty over the member planes of the Argent Path, along with ensuring our ability to operate transnationally without issue.” She sighed as she looked to her guest on the opposite couch, “I am guessing Lady Brasa is going to be rather cross if I do not push for protection of the remaining wild dragons and draconic peoples, correct?”

The purple-scaled tanager sitting on the opposite couch had been lightly singing a song while Veleon prepared, hoping to make the duchess feel more at ease. Nevertheless, she had been listening in on the whole conversation between the two, awaiting her advice to be needed. “Indeed, it is so,” she spoke, ending her song, “Brasa wishes for all dragonkind to be made closer to the other races. Admittedly, some are more resistant to the idea than others, but rest assured, our own agents are working on such matters.”

Veleon listened to the tanager’s singing, rather enjoying her song as she cuddled up to Karla, “I figured as much given her….proclivities. That being said, I will do my best at the conference to ensure that her wishes of me are met.” She knew her patron had certain expectations of what her representatives were to do while on missions for her, be they personal or in this case diplomatic. Yet even with her servant’s encouragement and Mirik’s remarks, she could still not help but feel somewhat nervous at the prospect of being in the presence of the other mystrian leaders, “Mirik...I must ask….How...er do you believe I am truly ready to represent our patron at this event? Surely either you or another member of the Arnwehr would have been a better choice, especially given my current state...”

“Do not forget, you are not there to primarily represent Lady Brasa,” Mirik said in a calm tone, “But rather the interests of Glaristant. You are the Grand Duchess of Glaristant and the High Inquisitor of the Arnwehr, are you not? … or was it Hi-Ink Wizard? The tanager chuckled, remembering the old nickname created by some squirrelkin. “You should be there first and foremost to represent your home nation. If you are going against what our lady’s desires, rest assured I shall inform you. Now please, try to relax for what remains of the trip; don’t forget, you were chosen to lead Glaristant by her. If she felt you unsuited she would have chosen another.”

Veleon rolled her eyes at Mirik’s comment, all the while trying to chuckle at that old nickname. While she was loathe to admit it, she secretly did enjoy it when Mirik called her by that particular name, even if in this case it was incorrect. She gave the tanager a sly smile as she retorted, “I get your point Miri, even if you mistake my actual title for that of my mother’s. Nevertheless you are right in that I need to focus on the task at hand, be it at the conference and hehjgyhyhhhgth
.b gvre. Now with that being said….” Veleon snuggled up to her wife, stroking her silk like hair as she looked out the window over the vast ocean below, “I think I owe a certain lark of mine that much after all she has done to help me prepare for this…”

Karla snuggled up to Veleon, “I dunno, Hi-Ink Wizard sounds like a fun name to me! But seriously, try to relax, Velly; it’l do you no good to embarrass yourself in front of your father and sister. Tynah will have to embarrass you both,” she winked.

Veleon rolled her eyes as she looked out through the window of the airship, watching as the city below came into view. It had been decades since she had set foot in Spires, during which it seemed as if the nation had changed quite drastically from what she remembered. Changes or no, she nonetheless looked forward to what lay in store for her once she and her entourage arrived.



Two Days Later:


Grand Duchess Veleon had remained mostly quiet throughout the discussions of the past few hours, allowing the other delegates to speak as she pondered the topics at hand. The issues that her fellow delegates had raised regarding technological development and cooperation environmental protections were ones she was willing to have Glaristant contribute to, along with the idea of increased intelligence sharing between nations. The last one in particular would most likely prove to be a boon to the Arnwehr, as it would allow them to improve their own technological and magical knowledge base.

At the mention of transit and teleportation, Veleon’s ears perked up as it had been a particular concern of hers, particularly since she had just pushed through a massive proposal for the overhaul of her nation’s aging transits systems. When combined with her concern about the recent assault on the country that had left much of the Glaristanti capital’s infrastructure in ruins, this line of thought present a perfect opportunity for her to interject, “If I may interject...I feel as if a regionwide consensus on the matter of teleportation laws would do a great deal to further improve ties between our countries. We have had such agreements with the Kingdom of Dyste and the Kingdom of Malgrave in the past, treaties I might add which have heavily benefited both the flow of trade and spread of ideas between our three nations. If similar treaties were to be implemented across Mystria, it would likely prove to be a boon to all involved be it in trade, commerce, or even in technological development. With that in mind, I am more than happy to commit Glaristant and its resources to Princess Snowtear’s proposal.”

“Forgive me, but I must disagree with our…esteemed colleagues from the Dragon States.” a red haired woman wearing a set of ornate gold and red mage's robes known as Laoisha added. “While Glaristant is certainly no stranger to the use of capital punishment, we do not support the use of sentient souls in any capacity akin to the manner in which you use them.. The use of soul gems on sentient individuals defies the natural order in that it does not allow the souls of the deceased to come to rest in their deserved afterlife, be it in the Abyss, Oblivion, Elysium, or elsewhere. Combined with the tendency of necromancers to use the souls of the living in their abominable rituals, I would daresay that your so “called achievements” in that particular field are little more than glorified necromancy…..Something which I think we can all agree just further illustrates the depravity of your country. It is one to take the life of a hardened criminal as a punishment, but is quite another matter to extend earthly punishments into the hereafter..”

Veleon nodded in agreement with her aid, her violet eyes narrowing as she glanced at the Dragon Priest with barely concealed contempt, “Normally I would refrain from passing judgement on the internal matters of another state, particular in light of my realm’s own rather sordid history with such matters. Yet with that being said, I must concur with the Malgravean and Immerian delegates on the objections they have raised regarding the practices of the Dragon States. Even in the most charitable sense, your system is nothing less than an abomination unbecoming of a so called civilized society. It perplexes me how a society with access to modern technology and vast arcane knowledge, has yet to master simple alchemical or scientific means that would allow you to produce the energy you need to meet your needs without engaging in large scale atrocities. Furthermore, I must ask….How can we be sure that the individuals you claim are hardened criminals or cultists, actually are and not dissidents?”

The tanager gave a gentle smile as she cast her gaze to Telissat, regarding him with an intrigued look, “Now with that being said, there is a matter that my government wishes to put forward for discussion on today’s agenda, your excellency. As you are likely aware, my realm is home to a military order devoted to the protection and regulation of mortal activity in the outer planes. Given recent attacks that have depleted our numbers or otherwise stretched us thinly, we are inclined to seek an agreement with our fellow mystrian states that will establish a set of regulations that will govern non-Glaristanti use and passage through the outer planes. Additionally, I would be remiss if I did not mention our desire to secure an agreement that would close access to the Abyssal realms by non-trained or Arnwehr allied personnel.”

[The Ctan]

Telissat nodded, “There’s a lot to be said for teleportation as a matter of international regulation, for it should be considered the future of many key industries for Mystrian nations,” he said, “Teleportation poses a unique advantage in commerce, terrain is of little importance and the speed of most journeys is tremendously reduced.

“Almost all nations here have had some interaction with teleportation either through magic or technology, it was after all the use of ancient portal devices that brought the Atumites, who we have been discussing earlier, attention on the region.

“There are many advantages, but many concerns for governments, particularly in terms of border control, while not all bad actors are external, some might be,” he said.

“Interstellar teleportation is also quite well known and has similar risks and advantages. I would suggest,” he said, “that we consider first how we want to use teleportation, and secondly, what regulations we would apply, both to site-to-site teleportation, and to portal systems; we would be content to provide both of these on a commercial basis.

“Part of the goal of this conference for us has been to reposition our general Export Control Policies with respect to the Mystrian Strategic Interest Region, re-framing our goals toward acceleration of scientific development,” he said. “In this area as well as others, though, we would like to recommend that others lead.”

And then he looked at the Dragon Priest, letting others speak as he turned to a new page on his notepad, the brush-pen describing the arcs of D’ragolethic script, and a mathematical notation.

100,000,000 x 10% = 10,000,000

He turned the notepad around and slid it forward on the desk. “Ten percent?” he asked. “You have that many rapists and murderers? Remarkable,” he said.

“We do have executions, at its peak during the Altean occupation the Mystrian Strategic Region occupied six hundred and four people in one year,” he said.

“Our executions are of course, quite pragmatic, and I do believe that the Absolute Royal Federation has condemned them at some point, too. We break the condemned down for the benefit of people afflicted by mortality-dependant-vampirism strains, allowing execution to support others in critical need,” he said.

“There are differences though,” he said, “we do nothing to the souls of the condemned, what you do is not necromancy, it is necro-slavery. But indeed we will withdraw our objections, if indeed you can show that those who are persecuted in this manner are all guilty not just of worship but serious crimes against the person, then I will of course withdraw all our objections to your culture and offer my apologies.

“You are welcome to come and investigate some time, I will happily offer you the ability to inspect our condemned prisoners and witness our executions, right now,” he said. “All of them! Will you offer us the same? The right to survey and meet anyone who is going to be used for this?”

“We even have soul gems, in fact,” he said, “that power things, no less, but the difference is that those who occupy them desired to, and they are in control of the things they operate, from starships to android forms and more.”

At that he looked to Veleon and the Glarisanti, “That would be most welcome, we have many thoughts on this matter, and would be deeply interested in cooperation,” he said, “but first, I think we could all use a recess?” he asked.

[New Dornalia]

Gerald could only hope to try and keep up with the discussion. The Dornalian was barely about to address the discussion over teleportation by addressing the Silverdalean and Dystean and Malgravean points, which would have included discussion about specialized forms of teleportation magic and technology. Gerald was also going to comment on the Glaristanti and their planes proposal. However, the ensuing discussion spurred on by the Dragon States--mainly, concerning their use of souls for all manner of things involving soul gems and what Telissat called "necro-slavery" seemed to overtake Gerald's attempt to get commentary out.

Gerald for his part didn't quite like what he heard, and certainly didn't like its implications. He wouldn't voice his perspective too openly, but to see the souls of even the damned be barred from entering the Great Immortal Mire and kept in little gems for use as a power supply bothered him on a personal level. Beyond that, Gerald knew his Dornalian history. The Dornalians had fought a war against an entire stellar empire--the Ssi-Ruuk Empire in the Skyriver Galaxy--all because several of its agents, using soul-harvesting technology, had forcefully kidnapped and sucked the soul energy out of several Dornalian citizens--including one of Henny Collins's kids. The Ssi-Ruuk, for their impudence, were purged just as one would purge a cancer cell in the pre-Apocalypse era, exiled to a lonely dustball in the path of asteroids while the rest of the empire became yet another Dornalian County and the Ssi-Ruuk's former slaves Dornalian citizens with all the rights that involved. Gerald privately wondered if the Dornalians wouldn't be motivated to do the same if the Dragon States repeated the Ssi-Ruuks' mistake.

Still, the call for a recess broke the tension and Gerald's thoughts, and soon Gerald said simply, "Well, it's close to lunch time, isn't it? I recall it was either yourself or someone else who noted that fact. I wouldn't object to a recess for lunch, myself."

[Tlahtohcatlalli]

(OOC: Written together with C'tan, lost the password to my old account so have mercy on me)

Away from the discussions themselves stood a cloaked figure, an annoyed grimace etched into a beautiful face. Were it not for some faded scars, he would have looked as beautiful as any man his age could hope to be, kept in shape and in his prime by the rigors of war and ruling.

Tizoc couldn't help but be happy that he could at least hide the sheer weight on his shoulders, however. The jewels and gold that shielded him in times of war, and the toned muscle that helped him cleave his way through the False Serpent’s puppets, were for once concealed beneath his cloak, his very face no longer recognizable by every soul that wandered near him. It was as refreshing as it was alien to no longer fear the knife of the assassin or the unexpected chaos of the drones that flew over the head of anyone thought to be him.

Son of Cuauhtemoc, Last Prince of the once great Empire of the Sun, Tizoc could not help but feel hopeless on the inside. A century of violence against his kin, a century of indifference by the so called Mystrians. A century of humiliation that had no end in sight.

Telissat seemed no different from his floating throne. An indifferent bystander watching the spectacle and shrugging at any notion of doing anything. Perhaps Tizoc had wasted his time heading here, perhaps the effort that had been taken to mask his appearance was wasted.

He expected nothing but betrayal from the Mystrians. No aid from the people that his lineage had defended against the maws of the devouring serpent. From the Devils above and beneath that went by the names of Aldaan and Frampt, the terrors that had nearly corrupted the world into their personal subservience.

And yet Ichtaca was allowed to speak her tone like he was not, allowed to lie about his people's suffering and the supposed benevolence of their current gods.

Why did he waste all of this time to meet Telissat? To be ignored? To be mocked and belittled? Why would he risk the future of his people on a pointless deed.

“What good is their so-called moral strength if they have done nothing to alleviate our suffering.” Tizoc could only glumly speak to himself as he ate a few scraps of dried jerky, seemingly carried in a small bag.

“A just question!” an elderly woman asked, she was perhaps the height of Tizoc’s bicep at best, diminutive and bowed slightly with age, leaning on a cane of pale ivory and gold, she boasted a long mane of dark hair, and her skin was dusted with wrinkles, to Tizoc, most humans looked like he could pick them up and throw them, but this woman looked like she would split in half if he picked her up.

If he was tempted, the presence of two of the Great Civilization’s guards in their close fitting living metal armour was there to dissuade him, following her like puppies. Like many of the C’tani she was dressed in lavish formalwear, pale linens that hung smoothly from her frame and gave her a funerial elegance. “You are Prince Tizoc, are you not?” she asked, her tone curious, as she stood looking up at him.

He turned back to her with that same fury in his eyes, only slightly dulled by her presence as he thought of the Dragon States and Ichtaca still.

His mind, warped by the endless fight against the occupier, had subtly begun to think of the best way to dispatch her guards should the need arise. Too many servants of the False Serpent had already hidden themselves in the midst of many other groups to keep him from considering the possible threat, as unlikely as it might have been for them to hide among such a group. Perhaps the magic keeping this place safe from bloodshed could fail? Perhaps they could have been bribed by one of his so-called Dragon Priests to act against him in the process? Surely he could move faster than their guns could aim, provided they lacked the more intense cybernetic augmentations he had heard circulating both within the Dragon States military and without?

He would let those thoughts fester in his mind as he turned his focus back to the woman in front of him however.

“I am Tizoc, yes.”

His voice was stern and deeper than his relatively young age would imply. He would hate to accuse her of drawing attention to him, but he knew he was being trailed by many eyes the moment he had left his homeland.

“My name is Ahaneith, Queen Dowager of the South and so forth,” she said, waving her hand slightly, her eyes on Tizoc’s as he spoke, “I have been asked by Telissat Amris to speak to you,” she said, “about just this kind of thing,” she said, of his earlier words. “I trust you wish to speak with the Silent King?” she asked, her tone was casual, her diction in common was sharp and clipped, and her small frame seemed to be animated by something too large for her.

“As we speak, the Silent King is discussing your people, that is why you were invited to visit this event, even if you haven’t been given a proper seat.”

“I did wish to speak with the Silent King and the people of Mystria. I was under the assumption that the former would be busy tending to his many stars prior to this meeting, and the latter too distracted by their own… priorities… to truly be interested in the plight of the people of Catedonia.”

Perhaps ominously, his eyes scanned a figure walking past the room, a Raizari, speaking into her phone about something in her own tongue, gazing into it as if it were a person.

There was a certain bitterness in his tone, perhaps an overly harsh one in his own mind, but one he couldn’t help but hide nonetheless.
“They make a mistake in giving Ichtaca and her puppet masters a seat however. They know nothing but how to lie to their victims and any who would threaten them, to even listen to them speak in their undead tongues is to grant legitimacy to their expansion.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Ahaneith said, and gestured to one of her guards, “do the thing,” she said.

The world ‘popped’ around them and the humid heat of Crystal Spires was replaced with an oppressive dry heat, and the woman sighed, “oh awful,” she said, looking to a window nearby, the group, all four of them, had been separated off from the press pack in which Tizoc had been confined, but they were in a desert house, “Come,” she said, “the Silent King has many avatars, and he can speak to you just as well through all of them, but we should not be talking with others.”

The house was old, painted with the staid and ritualized figures of hunters in waist high reeds catching fowl, an ancient and timeless piece, the whole room was stained yellow by a storm that held sand high above, the city visible from beyond was expansive, gleaming green necrontyr structures, silver towers and ancient flat-roofed designs mixed into a whole that struggled for its own unique identity, set out like prey that the storm was about to pounce on.

“I usually take to my bed for this kind of weather,” she said, the wind hissed against the glass as she led Tizoc out. They had said that teleportation wasn’t possible, clearly this did not quite apply to the Silent King’s emissaries.

Telissat rose from a table laid with roasted quail and pitchers of wine, scatterings of vegetables and hummus dishes neatly arrayed around it, faceless and uncanny android servants nearby.

“Prince Tizoc,” he said, holding his hand out toward the younger man to embrace his arm in a wrist clasp as Ahaneith gave the knowing smile shared by old ladies everywhere.

Tizoc froze for a half second, simply taking the sight in as he gazed on. There was a sense of scale to it all that seemed incomprehensible to the Prince that had taken to living much of his life amid the isolated forests of Catedonia, all in the name of avoiding the many tools of the Dragon States. He had thought for a second about how many people lived in the city beyond, wondering how many souls were so tightly condensed.

Regardless, he quickly turned his attention back to Telissat, answering his greeting by joining hands with him.

“It is an honor to meet at last, Silent King.” Tizoc spoke with confidence, in spite of how much as he considered it to be a facade. “I had feared I would have passed before gaining an audience with you or perhaps the Mystrian nations, especially in these trying times.”

“I am honoured to meet a man of courage and conviction,” Telissat said, “I hope you do not mind the subterfuge, but I do not think the others would accept open engagement at the conference with an indiginous resistance leader, yet. Right now the Imerians are agitating to burn the False Serpents from the face of Gaia, though, so perhaps that will be able to change soon,” he said.

“I wanted to explain why we’re here, too,” he said.

Ahaneith smiled impishly, “I will do that,” she said, easing herself into her seat at the head of the table, Telissat sitting down a moment later, “Queen Dowager I am, as I said, this land was once ruled by my Justified husband,” justified apparently being a synonym for ‘dead’ . I say was ruled, though he did not do too much ruling,” he added, “he was a brave and kind king, but sadly several of his ministers were less capable. We had what might now be called an undeath problem, and he was slain and the whole country harried by anarchy and mayhem for the best part of a generation,” she said.

“The Great Civilization’s predecessors revealed themselves, not so far from here, to run out the undead, and then for the best part of a generation, left our new queen to sort matters out,” she spoke of kings and queens as rulers for convenience, omitting much detail, “we later joined the Great Civilization when it truly became so,” she said.

“I am old now, I wanted to see the last damage healed and the land set upright again, for more tha five hundred years I have lived and watched, helped where I can, before letting age catch up with me, so that I can pass and bring vindication to my ancestors. But a little more is left to me,” Ahaneith said, “and if I can advise you, I will: tell us how you truly feel, do not stand on formality, you cannot offend our robotic overlord,” Telissat’s features betrayed an amused micro-expression, a simple twitch of his lips.

“Tell us about your people, and about yourself,” Ahaneith said, “your people, your needs, what you truly want.”

So much to say in response, so much to speak about. How much of it was truly his own memories? How many of them were what his ancestors witnessed? Where would he truly begin to answer such questions.”

His ears, two black, furry things atop his hair, twitched slightly, bringing the Prince to sigh.

“My people, as it stands, are under a grave threat. Where our ancestors once defended Great Rintyar from the threat of the undead, they have set their sights on us on the very night of my grandfather’s death. They are ruthless in their quest to slaughter all who did not immediately treat their Dragons as gods. They have perverted half of Catedonia into abandoning the Sun and have laid endless massacre upon those who have not converted.”

Almost instinctively, Tizoc looked up to the sky, wary for any sort of threat, as if he were still back home. A realization that he was, in all truth, far from home led him to turn his head back down.

“What we need, is to keep my people safe from their monstrous machinations. They are an evil that must be purged from Mystria, lest it corrupt all in one way or another. They have already deeply infiltrated every facet of Catedonia, destroyed much of our people and history. I will not let them go any further even if I must do so alone.”

There was a clear frustration hidden beneath his voice, as if he himself didn’t believe that there was any end in sight.

Telissat looked at him clear eyed and forthright, “How would you like to do that? We have the resources to do a great deal for you, but we need your people’s consent to do that, or at least that of those who aren't labouring under pro-Alduinite delusion. To us the problem is that while we are very interested in helping you, there are those who would see it as a policy of imperialism if we simply sent our forces to chase out the worms directly. But giving you weapons, support, the monetary resources to hire mercenaries, information, that kind of thing, that we can do with some impunity, and if we make it a pan-Mystrian initiative, and concede control of it, and ask others to contribute their own efforts, it will have better optics. That’s why I need to know, how much help do you want?”

Tizoc looked at those claims with some sort of wariness. Was he speaking the truth about the power at his hand? Could the Mystrians be convinced to give aid when they had either remained ignorant or uninformed of the Catedonian crisis? Of course, none of this is what truly worried him.

“My people have already lost too much to the Servants of the False Serpent. I will take whatever help I can use to bring them the safety they deserve… but I know that no such aid comes free. Whatever price you and any Mystrians may name, I only demand that the people of Catedonia remain free from the evils of foreign authority, Alduinic or otherwise.”

“That would be our goal too,” Telissat said, “we have no desire to move in as a new exploiter, but that of course is where the calculus of morality applies,” he said, “while we are willing to help, and we are able to do so, we will always prioritize the needs of our dependencies first, and then our allies, and those who are in general need after that. Crystal Spires and Altea would always come first, in Mystrian terms.

“But beyond that, we want to make the world a better place, if you can believe that. It’s just a matter of working out the optimal way to do that, which of course, has no settled answers,” he said. “Of course, there is a benefit to us, to be seen to be an ally of the just cause and also ensuring that Catedonia gets to determine its own future is a good counterargument to fears by some parties that we seek to integrate all Mystrians.”

“Mmm, I see.” his face remained stern.

“I will take whatever aid Mystria and your people offer, though I must warn you. Alduin’s servants are a petty and vicious bunch, they will not take any signs of aid to us lying down. My sheer presence here is likely to encourage them to strike against my people, and they will likely take action in whatever methods they deem acceptable to anyone who dares to interrupt their massacre.”

Tizoc could show nothing but worry now, not just for his people, but for those Mystrians who would get involved. He had seen the savagery of the Dragon Cult’s leadership firsthand, they would not refrain from atrocity in the name of weakening their foes.

“That is a given,” Telissat said, “but then, all they will know thus far is that you received an invitation, and were whisked away, as others have been. The next question is, would you like this to be a public matter of aiding you, or would you prefer it be kept confidential? I cannot promise that the other nations will do so, and I would prefer not to be unduly covert, but that is a strategic decision that you must make.”

“I would… I would like to make my intentions clear. The evil of the Dragon States must be exposed far and wide, their actions must be known throughout Mystria. No one can deny their crimes without being exposed as their puppet.”

Tizoc was certain that this had to be out in the open. “We must let them know that at least one group is prepared to take action against their schemes, at least.”

[The Ctan]

In the Intermission

1. Co-written with Kouralia

Glorelheim Council Chambers
Twenty minutes into Recess

With the event that was ongoing, it was hardly unexpected to see yet another non-descript office-dweller making their way about the corridors of the Glorelheim Council Chamber. As much as robes might have befitted the hosts and leaders of the talks too, the sheer variety of cultures that had descended on the convention would likely keep all but the most fashion-critical of C’tani or D’halbrisiri from questioning too much the choice of a three-piece.

Slate jacket and trousers, white shirt, patterned black tie: it was the beginner outfit for anyone considering any role in Kouralian - or indeed in many nations’ - faceless bureaucracies, and as little as the middle-aged Kouralian embodied the spirit of the ‘beautiful figure,’ he wore them well. Slender and short in stature, at least compared to the stereotypically statuesque image most foreigners had of the Kouralian people, the outfit was visibly tailored to this figure in a way that most junior office workers would likely never bother with, and a way that was understandable for a man who would struggle to find off-the-peg formalwear that fitted on the high street. ‘Chietan’, one might proclaim him based on his dark skin, though of course the cosmopolitan nature of Kouralia’s last century meant the families of what was formerly that most serene of Northern, archipelago-spanning thalassocracies had spread across the continent since its conquest.

Stopping in the lee of a quintessentially Spirean faceless statue, the man whose photocard proclaimed him to be “Lyanyr Reyhm” pulled a cheap and disposable black feature phone from his pocket and fixed his attention on that as much as any onlooker would guess. It would take someone sincerely looking to find more than a busy staffer in his behaviour to find the quick momentary glances he made up and down the hallway for the right moment to approach his target.

A Spirean steward was the first person to intercept him, a Fox beastling with a broad double-breasted jacket in the deep blue of many of the various agencies of the Spirean government, “Good afternoon ser, are you lost?” he asked, in lightly accented common, he wasn’t armed nor did he seem to be part of the main security detachment of the former-palace.

“Lost?” Lyanyr asked back in response, his heavy accent making it even clearer from whence he came, even if the badge didn’t do enough on that front. “No, I’m afraid I was just looking for somewhere out of the way to think on a matter for the Justiciars.” He offered with an apologetic shrug. “It’s difficult enough trying to get citations to rebut some of the…” His voice deepened in what was apparently an at least passable imitation of Sir Barynel’s tone “‘most unfortunate errata’ going on across there without dodging all the Scanderans the High King brought.

“Is there a problem I should know about?”

“This is a secure area, ser, if you need help to find your way back to the Kouralian delegation, I can call someone to assist you,” the young foxling said, “otherwise, the rest of the complex would be fine to explore,” he said, as if he had only half heard the explanation; it seemed he had to get the ‘secure area’ warning in there somewhere.

“Ei, if you need fella,” Lyanyr conceded, “Is there anywhere quieter you can think of near by though?” He pulled himself upright from where he leant on the wall and pocketed the phone, before pulling a small metal tin from his pocket and opening it with both hands. “I was just looking to escape the hubbub a bit.” As he spoke, he proffered it to the Foxling with his right hand.

“There’s a courtyard with a fountain outside,” he said, “just down that way, turn left, and you have a fairly quiet space ser,” he said, but of course, Glorelheim was rich with life and there was not much space in the council buildings that could truly be considered private, with the cities constrained by the hostile terrain the Spirean cities were known for their crowds, he waved his hand at the offer of mints, the prospect of being drugged with something that still worked was part of the briefing.

“Fair enough. Sorry to bother you fella.” The Kouralian said, clapping him on the shoulder and turning away where the steward had indicated. It wasn’t far before he stepped from the Foxling’s sight and found himself able to act with a little more immunity from suspicion. The corridor had been the first of what he was sure would be many obstacles put in his way, and it was doubtful that any other would be as ready to offer a polite word of advice.

As he stood for a moment to time his next actions, Lyanyr reached into an inside pocket on the jacket to draw out a thin, short metal cylinder. Nib at one end and blue plastic at the other, it was a simple ballpoint ink cartridge - blue it professed to be. Until suddenly it wasn’t and with a faint pop of air filling the newly created vacuum, the plastic fell from hands that were no longer there, joined by a sprinkle of ashen dust that was already being carried by the wind. Gone was the suited man, and flitting away from where probably had been his midriff was an iridescent green beetle barely two centimeters long.

Quickly it climbed to the ceiling where it found home amongst the ornate decoration and made its way back toward the corridor where Lyanyr had been stopped before.

The same foxling paid the beetle no mind and Lyanyr was able to bypass that particular obstacle without incident. The doors in the Council Buildings were made of fine multi-coloured wood in intricate patterns of forntian reflection, lattices over solid panels, they were not always entirely flush with their doorways, and this was no exception, its lower side offered a tempting way under, for it had been built to run over a thick carpet.

Though it was true it had not yet been forty days and nights, the temptation of that easy progression was enough for the Kouralian to seize upon it, and the small beetle rapidly crawled its way over the wood and under the door to gain an upside-down view of the next room on.

The doorway led into a long-gallery with a wall of windows that looked out into the courtyard and a series of statue-niches that had been emptied and which now held tall flower arrangements. Here at least, the guards were obvious, dozens of tall necron machines with crest-crowns and glaive-like bladed weapons, standing mutely like the statues that had once filled the place, several had their heads turned one way or the other, but otherwise they maintained a rigid, uniform pose.

There were other necron machineries present, and the crackle of some strange device could be heard nearby out of Lyanyar’s hearing.

As before, the small beetle continued its journey - though significantly more hesitantly this time. A quick buzz from the door toward the ceiling, and then as fast as his little legs could carry him across to the edge closest to the Necrons and - he hoped - most out of view of whatever sensors they might have. As much as he hoped, he doubted that their senses were limited to the angles and spectra that his own were as flesh and blood, and anything to limit how much he was in view was first in the order of business.

By fortune perhaps, or by cunning work on the magecraft, Lyanyr was not picked up or intercepted, nor did he run into the patrolling scarabs that could be seen scuttling about in different parts of the corridor as he explored. There wasn’t too much to be seen within the restricted area, there were the visible necron forces, and various devices, protecting a single room, a central area where several dozen people some of them guards, others rings of magi around a central pool within the center of the room, could be seen.

The pool’s water was not flat, but held in the shape of a miniature replica of Glorelheim, as though liquid water had been sculpted into an immensely detailed miniature. Six mages in the center were equidistant around it, and each had two assistants, who had in turn, two assistants, in wider circles. All of these seemed to be in a state of repose, cross-legged and with hands held in several contemplative gestures toward the central point that all could see, above the miniature representation of the council building.

There were necrons here, too, of the same type as the others, and with them, armed guards, whose armour seemed archaic, elves, not dissimilar to the city-elves of Altea and Crystal Spires, but whose armour and harness was unknown to all but the expert.

Here the Kouralian continued to move hesitantly, his journey as much stymied by his small size as it was by a need to constantly evade the skittering scarabs that made their way across wall, floor and ceiling alike. Approaching the central room, it seemed to Lyanyr as though he must have spent hours watching - though in truth it was mere minutes with tension doing the rest. Truth be told, though he was an accomplished Master of the Forms and Wisdoms as the title went, there was a great deal of difference between Thaumic mastery and true arch-wizardry on the Kouralian peninsula - and from there an equidistant gulf stretched before one reached the coattails of Menelmacari, Spirean, or C’tani master mages. To say he had little clue what was going on within the room was certainly no understatement, which definitely caused problems for one sent there with a specific and surgical goal in mind.

__ __ __

Outside the Council Chambers, however an altogether different sort of person was on just as important a mission.

Vy Astoranya was more-or-less the stereotypical Kouralian - tall, athletic, and broad across the shoulder. The athleticism had clearly been useful - if perhaps not quite enough, given the slickness of her forehead and her panting breath as she made her way through the thronging crowds around the Council Chambers. Clad in a white blouse unbuttoned at the neck with a betrousered emerald suit and flat-heeled brown monkstraps, her contemporary-school fashion outfit was simultaneously more striking than Lyanyr’s and yet also was entirely unremarkable. It was machine washable, off the rack, and one of ten like outfits sat in her local apartment’s wardrobe. In fact, just about the only thing which was distinctive about her compared to any other Kouralian staffer was the brown and brass bound briefcase cuffed to her left wrist.

As she approached the security cordon for the Summit, she looked for the nearest gate or route where access was being controlled before walking straight up - after, of course, straightening her outfit and trying to brush some of the sweat from her brow.

“Hello there!” Vy called out in fluent D'rɑgolɛth to the guards, “I’m from the Kouralian consulate!” she added, patting her pockets and pulling out a small leatherbound photocard to present on request. “I have an important message for… Someone in charge.”

The guard in question was a beastling, whose lupine ears jutted from his head and whose grey hair gave a clue to which animal he was closest to; he wore robes of gold and blue that left his chest bare half way down, and it wasn’t immediately clear that he had any protective equipment, though a close analysis would show the subtle glimmer of a force-field that ran through his billowing garments. He held a glaive like weapon, the necron phase glaive, though this one was leaner and built for a less extreme physique. Gleaming gold armlets showed his rank and position in the Keʃæn, a C’tani force drawn from Spireans, who seemed to be largely ceremonial.

He turned to her, and seemed to be looking through her, perhaps reading some retinal display, perhaps simply considering what her blood would taste like, yellow eyes unblinking. “Joy and Salutations to you,” he said, after a moment, “What is your message?” he asked.

In the same moment one of the ubiquitous necron flying constructs set down on its jewelled wings, on the other side of her, a scarab the size of a small dog.

“To you too, ser.” Vy said with as much decorum as she could manage under the circumstances before stepping back away from the alighting scarab and giving it a suspicious sideways glance. “I’m afraid I don’t know the content of my message and even if I did, it’s not appropriate for one of your office.”

She smiled awkwardly, “Sorry, no offence, but… Is there a commander for this sector you can call down or is there a point you can direct me to where I can sign this over to an officer? It has come direct from the chief of staff’s office you see.”

He looked at the woman with a carefully measured expression, “Your legation should have its own liaison who can arrange things of that nature,” he said, and it was entirely true, every legation had its own liaisons with the C’tani Diplomatic Service and the Spirean Foreign Relations Bureau.

“Yes, but I’m afraid this has to be hand delivered.” The woman said, “I don’t know if anyone has made any calls to the central office or anything, but my message exists in this briefcase alone. I’ve come directly from the consulate to here at a run to deliver it.” She said, tapping it with the hand that was not handcuffed to it. “Now, will you request someone to come down or will you point me toward somewhere that I can find a supervisory officer?”

“A moment,” he said, holding up one hand, “someone will be with you shortly,” he said. The gesture was followed by a touch to one of his tufted ears. A few moments followed, and a group of necrons approached, four in all, each of them taller than an Imerian, billowing crimson metallofibre flowing about them as they moved in toward her.

“Hi there!” Vy said, offering her leather bound photocard ID up for inspection again. “I’ve been tasked with hand delivery of a message from the Kouralian consulate for the attention of the officer commanding security for this function or for whoever they designate for receiving this message.” She said, “It is in hard copy so I need to sign it over and you will be responsible for further handling of the information and ensuring it reaches any recipient or person entitled to act on it. Is there one of you who is entitled to sign for receipt of the message on behalf of the command staff?”

The machine warrior examined the card with one eye moving separately from the other, before extending a hand, the tip of its finger beckoning toward the item she carried, “I will sign for it,” she said. The necron’s voice was an alto, deep for a female, though she did not seem to be of especially high position as necrons went.

“Okay…” Vy said, lifting the briefcase up to awkwardly pull the lapels of her suit jacket away from her body and allow her other hand to get at its inside pocket. From within came a small notebook which was, of course, leather-bound - though this at least appeared to be a removable paper pad and a more permanent, embossed cover to it. Like the briefcase, the notepad’s bindings were pristine and entirely without signs of wear in a manner that somewhat belied the experience of their bearer. In spite of that, it nonetheless featured the stamped logo of the Legatine Justiciary, picked out in silver paint.

“Now, what is your name, rank, and service?” Vy asked, before unceremoniously using a combination of the unwieldy bag-arm, her free hand, and ‘just biting the lid’ to uncap her fountain pen.

The necron did not delay in giving her details, “Icthria ita Thokht, Sentinel Prime of the Seventy Third Legion,” she said, apparently translating some alien title, “as you would render it,” she added.

“H’okay then…” Vy said, scripting that down onto the page before slipping both the pen and the notepad into her trouser pocket. The hand then came back out with a small red metal key that had presumably been out of sight somewhere before. A glance at the sun, and Vy tweaked three small numeric dials on the edge of the case with her thumb, before inserting the key into a hole next to them and giving it a twist. Once that ceremony was observed, she held the case horizontal, unclasped it, and opened it.

What was inside was by all accounts entirely unremarkable: an unaddressed, buff envelope lacking in both mass and volume. When Vy picked it up and turned it over, the flap had been completely sealed by a strip of sticky tape - a signature in black biro scrawled messily across the border thereof. “For you, Sentinel Prime.” She said brightly.

Icthria took the papers in one massive hand, with its razor talons, her green eyes altering their focus slightly as she looked at the item, and then the other hand let go of the weapon she carried, which vanished in green cinders for a moment, and her sharp claw cut the edge, as she immediately began to rifle through the documents as if inspecting them.

She was not, however, her chronosense altering to experience time more slowly, to read and digest the documents before their messenger could step away.

Within the envelope was a single sheet of paper and a further buff envelope. The first was on clearly expensive paper - off-white, tastefully thick, and headed by official "Kouralian Embassy" heraldry. More than half of it was the return address and similar pre-printed text, with a simple handwritten body of text.

'For the Attention of the Triarch Grand-Judicator, the following has been received today for immediate forwarding from the Coronial Union to yourself, hand-delivery. As per its self-contained instructions its contents have not been handled by embassy or consular staff.

- Aylynel Byraþalæn , CoS Kouralian Embassy Caltris

Tearing open the second envelope revealed another single sheet of white, cheap printer paper folded in twice in twain, in the manner of bills and business letters the world over. Unlike the first sheet, this was a greyscale print-out of what was declared to be an intelligence report:

---

MOST SECRET//OAK WARDEN// Special Control and Access Required

JIMtel XXX | 000000 | XX

---

"No. 2712, 16/03/2015"

---

P = 1
S = A
H = C
A2 | S2

---

Directoral Handling Override:
Singular Dissemination to: OC Security Forces, "Mystrian Prosperity Convention"

---

"Ought the Sk'yron Champion [tr, HK] seek that which sees water's gloryhome lest the bonding of fortune see credence restore unto the Coatlkind (sic)."

Interpretations:

• Ought = Nil Ascribed.
• Sk'yron = Contraction of "Sky-Yron," SAT Metal - Necrodermis?
• Champion = Translated directly from High Kouralian, cognate with 'Sygecempyssym', believed Close/Principal Protection Officer.
• Seek = Nil Ascribed.
• That which sees = Unknown.
• Water's Gloryhome = Unknown (see below, Gloryhome=?=Glorelheim).
• Lest = Nil Ascribed.
• Bonding = Alliance/Treaty (see below).
• Fortune = Prosperity: Mystrian Prosperity Convention (?).
• Credence = Nil Ascribed.
• Restore = Nil Ascribed.
• Coatlkind = Unknown.

Conclusions:
Information relating to Mystrian Prosperity Convention which is of paramount importance to Crown and Allied interests. Interpretation incomplete, however The Convention is underway. Apparent requirement for action by necron bodyguard (Necrodermis is an assumption - adamantium and other like-alloys for consideration, but uncertain what other being could be so succinctly described in that way). In the interests of cooperation and transparency, this ought to be shared with its intended actor, in case mystics or context give it meaning.

---

The necron paused for a single moment and then folded the item, “Thank you,” she said, but said nothing more.

“Okay, now…” Vy said, again juggling various items as she shut the case, “Please sign here!” She finished, smiling brightly and thrusting the pen and open note-pad at the Necron.

With all the incongruous delicacy of a fairground crane arm, the machine took the pen in her hand, inscribing a set of circles and lines interlocked on the line, rather than over it.

__ __ __

The Chamber of the High Mages

The necrons were no more intuitive than humans, but their immediate response was boosted by the speed at which they could communicate, and the access they had to machine intelligences capable of greater logical truncation than humans, the process that humans called intuition, there were any number of possible interpretations for ‘Water’s Glorelheim’ but there were two areas assigned for immediate priority; the city had a waterside of course, the riverfront was beautiful, and of course that was the first implication.

Lyanyr had been fortunate thus far, but that particular rug was about to be pulled out from under him, for though the security in place had been penetrated, there was a difference from getting into the chambers under normal operation, and getting out when the area was specifically being swept for intruders.

It was not the necrons that became aware of him first however, and he could tell, as the air suddenly felt dryer, crisper, cooler than the tropical humidity of the environment had been moments ago.

Telepathic contact usually came with a gentle querying, impervious this was different, it was strong enough to have a substantial local effect in the magic-saturated environment of the Mystrian mainland, frost spider-webbing on the stone floor below him. A calling on his thoughts, it would be difficult to contain them, the most effective way to resist such a thing was to empty the mind, as certain ascetics were said to be able to, but even with training, the calling of thought was almost like a whirlpool.

While Lyanyr’s arcane abilities were noteworthy amongst the generally ungifted human population of Kouralia that did not mean that he could resist the skill of a C’tani master wizard, let-alone the Circle collectively maintaining the behavioural recursion spell. As much as he let his mind fall empty, the powerful draw of the telepathic spell was irresistible. In fits and starts his consciousness was jerked back from the brink of utter blankness. Little flashes of thought, from his name or most recent memories, to momentary awareness of his surroundings up amongst the plasterwork of the ceiling. It would have been embarrassing in a practice session or a competition for sport, but here these lapses could be lethal.


A second later Lyanyr’s nerve broke and so too disappeared all chance of escaping, as the panicked Kouralian took to wing and made a bee(tle)-line for the door he had entered by.

There was nothing that could be translated directly to a message or thought, it was enough that the contact was made, what followed was a spell of deeply unsubtle power, as the environment around Lyanyr vanished, instead replaced with rock on all sides, dark and lightless, with a jerking sense of teleportation and warding against other teleportation surrounding him. The walls of the cave were warm, a comfortably so, rather than cold, despite being solid rock, and the cyst in the earth he found himself in was an irregular shape, like a bubble of air formed in the rock.

The air was breathable, and he seemed hydrated, as if fed and kept in clear air by the same magic that imprisoned him.

The unfortunate, buzzing little beetle was already traveling fast enough when he was translated into the stoney prison that, in his panic, he could do nought else but fly straight into the wall of the bubble, firing a jolt of pain into the minds of anyone still telepathically monitoring his consciousness. Lyanyr drifted down in an ungainly, dazed fashion to settle at the bottom of his unnatural cell where he lay for a second before casting about an awareness of his surroundings. With the bubble less than two meters across at its widest he could hardly morph back into his true form without risking some truly horrific injuries. Stuck in his current form of a beetle, even if he tricked himself into believing that he could compete with his newly minted captors and soon to be tormentors his current form could barely muster enough magical focus to bring about a minor illusion. On the inside, Lyanyr sighed with impotent disappointment as a single word filled his mind.

“Bokkaryssym…”

---

The Rinyari Social Media Influencer Karala Besarin, known as ‘Avora of Velitar’ interviews Telissat Amris, Arnastorana of the Great Civilization.

[The Ctan]

Spirean food was widely renowned, and the Council Chambers of Glorelheim had once hosted revels of remarkable decadence. Today those days lived again in spirit, and lunch was a substantial meal.

The main course was slow-roasted goat’s meat with sliced onions and red, orange, and yellow peppers with garlic, on a bed of rice and with flatbread and savoury yoghurt sauce with spices. This was emblematic of Crystal Spires of course and the vegetarian option was the same, though with beans, rice with barberries in place of the meat. Of course, there were many variations, and with the realms of D’halbrisir being diverse, and the region itself more so, there were several options on the menu.

The entertainment was an exhibition of formal theatre in an ancient form that had been considered aristocratic long before, though this was an abbreviated programme of two short plays. The tragic form, Klɛjomiris, was the first and last play, with an emphasis on sacrifices here, while the comedic Febɑomiris play traditionally focussed on the failure of the protagonist to reach enlightenment, or even simply learn from their actions.

The tragedy was the tale of the bestowing and finding of the Rod of Law, the great Spirean relic of the national tutelary god Fornt, because so many significant stories of the Spirean people were distressing, while the comedy was a tale of the White Fang, written by Traiceia Naevras, a few decades ago the anti-slaver pirates had been the subject more of tragedy than comedy.

Telissat returned to sit close by High Councilor Calisté Chenarn, waiting for her to welcome the group back before he spoke.

“Welcome back,” he said, “one and all.

“Before we begin I would like to ask that we observe a minute of silence in respect of His Eminence Jaciob Stephenson, Emperor of Rohane Alista,” he said.

He waited, his hands folded, one resting in the other, palms open, upward, a meaningful votive gesture.

“Let’s begin,” he said, his hands shifting to a more passive position, one in the other still, thumbs tucked in toward his chest.

“During the recess, it has occurred to us, and by my people in data polling,” here there was something different, often the C’tan presented in a staid way focussed on officeholders, with a lot of focus on the senate and the executive Triarch Council, or individual ways, but Telissat was bound to respond quite closely to popular opinions, and clearly the change in policy was not a personal one, “that it might be more palatable to propose greater cooperation on matters like the teleportation and space exploration,” Telissat nodded toward the Rohanian delegates, “if we were at least willing to give greater assurance of our willingness to adhere entirely to consistent norms.

“The matter of a regional court is definitely something that I think we can consider again. We are still wary of the full range of a uniform regional legal code.

“I should say my earlier proposal to locate such a court within Imeriata is not ironic or feigned; we still have reservations, but a Civil court is very much something we could support. We would like to hear more.

“In drawing together to build the future, a degree of trust is required, and while I would say that we trust almost everyone in the region,” the blue eyes touched once more on Alduin’s priests, making clear who he felt was the exception.

“We would like to hear what the range of operations for such a court should be, particularly in civil matters,” he said. “A regional court of justice enjoys less support among our people, as with my own initial feeling, but I would like to hear further opinions on what the scope should be for one, also. How it should determine standing and what powers it should have.”

“One thing I would like to suggest is an athletic contest to bring the region closer together, in a spirit of competitive unity. This Mystrian Games could be held perhaps every five years and rotated between different nations, or the region could construct a mobile home for such using the same magi-technology as Dystan airships.

“Of course, a whole range of games should be attempted I feel, but I do think that the region would prosper culturally from this.”

The avatar gave a smile, Telissat knew that no matter how smart one was, or thought one was, knowing other people’s desires was always a challenge, and that many other ideas would arise.

He could suggest, but his ideas could only be a small part of what it might become.

“Next, I would like to invite Tizoc, Prince of Tlahtohcatlalli to give us a new perspective on the situation in his homeland,” he said, giving a look that seemed to be without any connivance toward Ichtaca. Instead, his expression seemed almost an apology, as though he knew he was making her difficult situation worse.

Surely he did, of course. That was the point.

“Before we do so, in the spirit of full disclosure I will admit that I have already spoken to Tizoc, including about our concerns for Catedonia, and the Dragon States generally.”

“We have assembled a great amount of data about the Catedonian situation, but there is no substitute for eye-witness testimony.”

“Ultimately I would like to move toward a working group to discuss the firm establishment of Catedonian independence, and I would invite any party interested in bringing this about to join it on an equal footing.

“I know that some are concerned about the overzealous deployment of the Great Civilization’s conflict resolution assets within the Mystria region, and in light of those sensitivities we would prefer to minimize our active involvement, but we can discuss the exact format of our response, should anyone else wish to join.

“I can say that the Great Civilization will take no offensive action unilaterally. We are prepared to supply Tizoc and his people and provide safe-haven and shelter, but we will not be making this a direct intervention. This is in light of the expressed concerns about our intervention in the Altean Confederacy. Instead, we would ask that you listen to what he has to say, and consider first how you would like to react, and then what you can commit to moving forward with.

“At the very least I would like to propose an organized region-wide embargo of products created with macro-exploitation within the Dragon States and Catedonia especially.”

“We have discussed the idea of a stellar exploration fleet for Mystria before, but I would like to come back to it. Specifically, we are aware that some are concerned about exactly what our objectives are concerning space colonies.

“Ultimately, we want to ensure that we are quite clear here, I want to make sure that space is opened up, not controlled, with the obvious exception.

“That does mean that we are not looking to control who can settle where, or when, and we are aiming to make that easier rather than more difficult for you; there are scenarios where we would care, for instance,” his blue eyes darted to the Imerian delegation, “we actively disapprove of establishing sovereign enclaves on planets inhabited by autochthonous species without extant populations in settled space. I am sure someone is formulating a claim that this is a hypocritical stance for us, but of course, our own state traces its origins as much to the Seroi Republic here on Earth as it does to the Necrontyr.

“Certainly we are against colonialism in the sense of exploiting other peoples for resources or land, and we consider any species homeworld fundamentally the property of the sapient species that develop there.

“Just as we have until now supported a doctrine that keeps Imeriata from permanent settlement in Mystria or the Pony Realms; but our disapproval of colonialism and particularly extraction colonialism remains a matter of important principle no matter where it happens.

“But space colonization is another matter. There are many more unoccupied worlds in the void than there are ones that are currently occupied. Consider this world and its history. Anatomically modern humans - and beastlings and most other species - date back a hundred thousand years. But the world was habitable for them for millions upon millions of years before that.

“If one arrived at any point during the world’s known history, there is only a small chance that it would have had a sapient species on it,” he said.

“Beyond that, and as we prefer to do, there is terraforming, including some worlds such as many of those with stargates on them,” he nodded to the Malgravean Prime Minister, “which have been terraformed but are not settled, though of course, we will help with terraforming, and perhaps the most important of all space settlement,” he said.

“Suffice to say we do intend for all states who participate in the pan-Mystrian Space programme,” he looked toward the Raizari, “to be settled extensively in the stars in time, with their resources to maintain contact and security. We want equals, not protectorates.”

“Another issue we would like to bring to the council, more than simply helping the Mystrian region’s nations reach other worlds, is to protect the region itself. As many of you know we have already installed shield grids for Crystal Spires, Altea and Malgrave. This is a technology that we can provide, of course, but we would suggest that nations in the region obtain similar protection if they are concerned that they may be attacked, by the Atumites,” he paused, “or us, for that matter. The Dornalian government has such technology, of course, and provides an alternative supplier to ourselves.

“Beyond that, we would like to also suggest a wide spectrum regional over-shield, it would be possible again for the council to choose a supplier here.

“I am authorized to announce for the first time in a diplomatic venue that our Menelmacari friends also have a proposal to construct a planetary ring around Gaia, to provide a planetary sphere of protection against outside assaults. I would like to invite Elentári Sirithil to speak on that matter a little later, but I should say that freedom of navigation will not be curtailed by such a project, we are quite certain on that. But, the intention is, broadly speaking, to protect against aggressive interstellar societies.

"It would be an understatement to say this idea is contentious, but I would ask all to reserve judgement until we have had time to hear what is proposed.

“I should also like to throw the floor open to the discussion of teleportation once again, I agree that a framework to discuss international teleportation. As our Dystan colleague has said, there are also interplanetary and interstellar teleportation magic that can be used.

Certainly many among our own people seek to prevent such things, not necessarily because of our policies on immigration or travel, but because many of those who use such powers are not so well-intentioned.

“Needless to say the concerns are many, for as much as it is convenient to be able to displace to visit a friend, it’s rather less to have the Siren’s Call show up.”

“Those who have had the chance to explore Gaia’s shores beyond our region will know that there are precious few exceptions to the simple rule that beyond Mystria and the Pony Realms, there is much privation.

“Some of us have a feeling that our own woes are bleak and that flawed as we all are the outer world is surely much better. This is not true, for those who wonder why the Great Civilization expends so much of its Gaian effort here, the answer is simple.

“This is the best region in the world.

“Beyond Mystrian shores, and a few closely affiliated places, the world is a bleak place of endless war and poverty, broken only by islands of self-satisfied dust-gathering privilege.

“This is not a rule that is invariant of course, but what we would like to do is to suggest a protocol for common patriation of refugees from outside our lands; this is not to say that refugees need be settled in all nations, but we envision an option being extended to those arrive in any Mystrian nation to go to any nation that wishes to take people,” his eyes glanced to the Rintyari delegation, inherently this first option could also be used to shuffle on newcomers by those nations that did not want new people. The C’tani claimed they wanted immigrants more than anything else, and this was certainly a proposal that tied into that idea.

“Ultimately, we would like to talk more about free travel, but I think that is enough.

“I’d like to again look at our agenda. The concept, of course, is for each of these to be an opt-in protocol, with there being no obligation for anyone to participate in any of them,” he said.

“But I would like to ask everyone to commit to taking the lead on one or more of these projects, and bringing them to development, to get a feeling for who would be willing to do what. The table is of course, still open for more ideas.”

---

OOC:

Protocols list thus far, let me know by Discord if I’ve missed any:

Proposal	Sponsor	Development Leads
Open Protocols
Arbitration Court	Rohane Alista
Common Goods Standards	The C'tan
Criminal Court	Rohane Alista
Customs Union	The C'tan
Defense Shields	The C'tan
Free Travel Protocol	The C'tan
Intelligence Sharing Pact	The C'tan
Megafauna Management	Crystal Spires
Mystrian Games	The C'tan
Planar Travel Regulations	Glaristant
Refugee and Immigration Protocols	The C'tan
Space Exploration and Settlement Initiative	New Dornalia
Student Exchange Programme	Crystal Spires
Teleportation Legislation Initiative	Dyste
Wildlife Foundation	Silverdale
Closed Protocols
Catedonia and Dragon States Special Working Group	The C'tan	Alduinium may not join.

[Glaristant]

Collab with Dyste

Veleon breathed a small sigh of relief as she heard Telissat dismiss the gathered attendees, all the while looking to the Dystan delegation. The tanager’s purple eyes met those of Tynah, her gaze seeming to regard the Dystan princess with a hint of anxiety. At the nudging of her aide, Karla, the duchess took her leave of the room.and moved to one of the waiting rooms. While most of the Glaristanti delegation followed the Duchess or took a break, one red haired witch named Laoisha made her way over to the Dystan delegates with a message. Bowing she spoke, “Greetings Grandfather, Aunt Tynah, and Lady Snowtear…..Forgive the intrusion, but mo...er her grace wishes to speak with you, provided you are available. If you can spare the time, she will be waiting for you in room seven.”

“Oooh, my sister wishes to talk with us!?” Tynah grinned; in spite of towering over her niece, she had the excitable demeanor of youth still, “Come now, Father, let us see her!”

“I would love to see her,” Tyroth smiled, “Perhaps, though, you can go first, while I handle a certain matter…” he gestured to the couch, where Marron had gone to sleep during the meeting. “I will catch up with you shortly.”

“Fair enough,” Tynah sighed; she knew Marron could be a handful to deal with. “Ahem, please, Laoisha, take me to see her, then!”

Laoisha nodded, using her tail to motion for Tynah to follow her. The emberkin shook her head at the sleeping Marron, but brushed it off. “Very well, Aunt Tynah please follow me. Seriously...I don’t envy Grandfather for having to put up with that. She was enough of a handful back in Glaristant…”

Laoisha led the princess through the atrium and assorted rooms of the facility, past other delegates until they at last reached room 7. Outside stood two sylph clad in forest green uniforms that clutched lethal looking black rifles, all the while they eyed the pair with cold indifference. Laoisha barked an order in a language Tynah didn’t understand, causing the pair to salute as they moved to open the doors to reveal Veleon and a white tailed lamia conversing. Laoisha gestured to Tynah, “Go on in, Aunt Tynah.”

Tynah, without any hesitation or worry, went straight into the room, “Well now, Ey, are you planning to finally speak with me? I have been waiting for years for you to stop freezing your own shoulders and finally have the courage to speak to your big sister!” She looked over to the Lamia, “Ah, Kiara, I thought I saw you before. You have been keeping my sister in check now, have you not? Can you believe it has been over a year since she has managed to see me!? And taking a conference of all things to manage it, GHAHAHA!”

“Ah! Lady Tynah, it’s you! I thought you would have been too busy with your duties as a Royal Knight to attend the conference, but I am glad you’re here.” Kiara slithered over and gave the draconid princess a hug, “Aye. It’s been a difficult task, but I have kept little Ey in check for quite a while now. Would you believe she’s finally embraced that softer side she’s been keeping bottled up all these years?”

Veleon rolled her eyes at the lamia’s comments, all the while her purple orbs seemed to regard her sister with a hint of unease. At Kiara’s comments, the tanager rolled her eyes and growled, “That’s...that’s enough Kiara. The reasons for those changes have to do with them making sense policy wise, not...not because I’ve gone soft. As for you…..I...Just didn’t know what to say to you after all that’s happened sister, particularly after the incursions in my realm a few months back. I had intended on speaking with you at some point, but...this…” Veleon looked over herself, “I just wasn’t sure how you’d take the changes I’ve undergone since I last saw you...or how you would take seeing me after all I’ve done.”

“Kiara, seriously, do you really need to make my sister soft? She has had soft scales ever since I knew her, GHAHAHA!” Tynah sat down next to the two of them, “But really, Ey… or ‘Veleon’, should I say… did you really think I would not know about all of this? I still have… informants, you can say,” the Draconid grinned, before holding her sister’s hands, “Listen. I understand better than anyone. When… that incident happened, things did change, but you needed someone to help guide you to a better path. For a while, I thought maybe that would be me, but… I am not our father, and neither are you. You needed to find your own way, not simply repeat what either Father or I did. But I must ask… how do you truly feel now, about all of this?”

“Damnit Karla….I thought I told you to stop filing those weekly reports on me! Honestly….” Veleon sighed out as she gave a glare to the purple dressed plumekith next to Kiara, all the while Karla and Kiara started to giggle at the tanager’s consternation. Veleon looked her sister in the eyes, her anxiety seemingly fading as she pondered her sister’s words, “I had figured my little lark or Kiara would have informed you of what happened to me following the battle, but I had hoped they would allow me to tell you myself. Seems I was wrong there. Regardless, I know I needed to find my own path, even if it did take me through many tribulations. Oh...Admittedly, I am still unsure of how I feel about all of this, sister. Between the physical and mental changes, it is quite a lot to come to terms with. Do not get me wrong, I do enjoy this new form and the gifts it has brought me, but at the same time I do worry about what these changes have done to my old self. Not only that, but I do worry about what they will end up bringing as the years go by.”

“Well, I will be the judge of how well your abilities have improved,” Tynah chuckled, “We shall have to have several sparring matches to see if your skills have not atrophied since your Argente-wielding days were over. How else will you be able to keep up with me, and Flora too? That shall prove to us how much of your old self is really there…”

“Now, now,” a voice spoke up from behind as Tynah’s and Veleon’s father arrived on the scene. “Please, Tynah, save it for after the conference. We would not wish to upset our hosts, after all.” The king looked over Veleon for what seemed like ages, not saying a word to her at he gazed at her. But finally, he eased up and smiled, “GHAHAHA! Now, Eyvel, maybe next time you make a deal with a goddess perhaps tell your family about it earlier?”
“I would be more than happy to oblige that request, sister. Just do not be surprised if you end up losing to me in at least a few of those matches. As for there being much of my old self left….I truthfully don’t think there’s that much of the original me left anymore. Not after all the injuries I’ve taken GWAHAHA!” Veleon said, chuckling as she witnessed her new guest enter the room.

The tanager muttered a few words as she moved towards the King, all the while her silver scales faded to their original copper and black. The two draconids could see a number of scars and recently healed wounds across Eyvel’s body, as well as her stiffened gait,. Alright father….I will try to tell you and sister before the next time I make a deal with a deity, provided I am not in the middle of a battle of course! Regardless….it’s good to see you, father. I trust you have been well?”

“Of course, Eyvel,” Tyroth had not had a chance to directly see his second eldest daughter in many years, and the sight of her old wounds made him think of the last time they had spoken together, one of the very few times they had truly argued amongst each other. That said, it appeared that she had finally owned up to some of her past mistakes. “I can hardly complain, except when Sarisa tries to get me to eat less, GHAHAHA!” He took both his daughters in for a hug, “... but thank you for coming to this event. Part of the reason I even came personally instead of leaving it to Winstara was because I heard you were here, in fact.”

Eyvel’s expression seemed to brighten as she felt herself pulled into the hug with her sister and father. Yet even as she returned the embrace, the tanager could not help but note how ironic it was. Even as recently as a year ago a situation such as this would have been unlikely, let alone possible given how distant she had grown from the pair during her reign, “Well to be fair father she does have a point, particularly if even mom is saying you could stand to work on losing that gut of your’s. Oh….you’re welcome, father. Truthfully speaking, I had originally been planning on just sending Laoisha and Kiara in my stead given all that still needs to be done in Glaristant. Between forming a new parliament, rebuilding the ruined districts, and working with the Chancellor on selecting a new state council, I have had my hands rather full. Were it not for Karla and Pyra’s insistence, I likely would have stayed behind.”

“Hmph, I can choose what I want to eat,” Tyroth growled, but he nevertheless patted Eyvel’s head, “But being here is very important for Glaristant’s standing in Mystria, and to make sure your concerns and opinions are heard. Naturally I will be leaving most of Dyste’s to Winstara, though; I do not wish for my influence to too greatly sway matters here.”

“So why not have me handle it, father?!” Tynah asked… before both of them broke out in laughter, the combined “GHAHAHA!” feeling as if it was shaking the room itself. “Okay, sorry, even I do not think I would have been the best choice,” she grinned, “But this is still a great learning experience for me.”

“I know...I know. There is no better advocate for a country’s interests than its ruler after all.” Veleon chuckled at her sister and father’s remarks, all the while giving Tynah a nudge with her tail, “Sister...I love you dearly, but that would be a truly terrible idea. Jokes aside, you will learn to fill your role as a diplomat in time. It will just take some practice. GHAHAHA!”

“Ahem, my apologies on intruding on this family get-together, Your Majesty,” Zihark Jemson, the former Prime Minister of Dyste, now acting as a special advisor, entered the room. “... but Ambassador Snowtear will be leaving the conference as a result of the tragic news from Rohane Alista.”

Tyroth’s cheerful demeanour vanished as he frowned, “Ah, I expected as much… Jaciob was her descendant and all. Marron will need to be Dyste’s main representative during that time, though I, too, may go to see the funeral once I am done here. Regardless of anything, Winstara is the star of this show; I am simply here to support his wishes.”

Veleon’s jovial mood faded at the news, as she too frowned, “I had figured she would be departing, given her connection to the royal family. Truly, his...is most disheartening news. I had hoped that we would eventually see his majesty recover, but it appears it was not to be. That being said, I or rather Eyvel will have to depart soon given that one of us will be expected to assist my son with preparing the Meagher Knights for the funeral.”

Tynah gave her sister a hug, “Do not worry, Ey, I shall not cause too much trouble without you. Just… give my condolences to the family, will you?”

Veleon returned her sister’s hug, “I will, but just know I am holding you to that promise, Ty. Hopefully, once I return...we can spend some time speaking of more pleasant matters than politics or funerals.”

[Imeriata]

There seemed to be some annoyance from the federation as the shipmind looked in their direction and the mention of firmly disapproving of wars of conquests against primitives. Hushed whispers from small groups to their neighbours started in the song like way that the good old tongue was spoken.
"If that is his idea, than I think we can live with his disapproval!" One young man, an elf in an officer uniform with intricate ornate knots on his arms that marked him as a Knight lieutenant, his standard hussar cloak had been replaced with a long white one adorned with what one would assume was his own heraldic device, a silver background with a rainbow coloured lion emblazoned upon it that roared to a blue sun. An older human with a bushy moustache that wore a green civilian tunic embroidered with small songbirds in a repeating pattern chuckled at the response. The human raised an arm that were covered in ornate knots that marked him as a squire commander and gave the elf a heavy pat on the back that made the younger man noticeable bounce forward.

Other whispers were of course more on point as a young woman, skin of a brown redish hue and hair in dark red that had been allowed to grow and cut into an orb like shape upon which a small band of interlocking ivory plates had been placed spoke in a hushed tone with the high king, she wore the simple white robe of a member of the royal foreign affairs advisory while an old man in the gray robes of the internal affairs advisory had also joined in, his hair was long and white but had vanished at the top of his head leaving a long band of hair going from ear to ear reaching down behind his back. After a hushed discussion did the woman in white finally rise up, her red eyes looking over the entire convention hall as she spoke up.

"The Absolute Royal Federation of Imeriata and her realms would on the behalf of His Royal Highness, blessed be His name and may His line reign as His ancestors has from the beginning of days until the end of days..." The woman begun and lowered her head as she spoke the traditional well wishings as federal subjects often did when a monarch was brought up in third person before he raised her head again and continued as if nothing had happened. "... of course be more than willing to host such a court of civil disputes, our honour and our valor alone makes us the most reasonable choice and we are most pleased that, that fact has been brought up. Would we be chosen would we of course be more than willing to provide facilities paid for by His Royal Highness, blessings upon Him who rules with the divine favour of all the gods, great and small, Himself!" She added on the topic.

"As for the authority vested in such a court His Royal Highness, divinely blessed by the gods of Justice, Law, and Order from whom His right to rule was granted, in His might and wisdom suggest that it should have limited powers as to not inflict upon the sovereignty of any divinely appointed prince nor any elected Stor burgaremaster! However the exact nature of such powers might be saved for a later conference exclusively held to hammer out such details" She added seemingly changing into Imerian using the highest elected title the federation itself accepted amongst it's own holdings; "Grand Mayor" or "Grand Master of the Burghers" rather than using any more impressive titles used abroad. If it was an intentional jab against republics in general though wasn't entirely clear.

"As for these Dimheim games we should suggest that instead of holding them every five years as suggested we would suggest the more reasonable 3, 6, or 9 years!" She added finally, not actually explaining why 3, 6, or 9 was more reasonable but for those with a greater insight in Imerian thinking knew that 3 in general was a holy number in most of the religions in the federation even if it was unclear which religion historically had caused this influence. Early chronological practices did not revolve around the number 3 as the modern ones did, the sun worship had very little to do with three in any way shape or form bar it's veneration of the number, and the Faith of Ishiri was as always very quiet on any of it's doctrines and reasons. She seemed to think for a moment before she finally nodded to the elf that rose up.

The young elf with long red hair and pale skin pulled his cloak around him dramatically so both the roaring lion in all the hues of the rainbow and blue sun vas clearly visible on his right while his left arm was prominently displayed showing the intricate knotwork on it. As if to clearly remind everyone in the hall that he was not only a noble but also a man of high military rang.
"I speak for His royal highness, blessings upon Him, in the regards on military matters and in so far as the liberation of land from forces of darkness is concerned no more debate is needed!" The young elf sad as he quickly reached into his cloak and pulled out a sword, a scanderan sabre with gold inlays depicting a scene of old Elven monarchs from before Human dominance, especially prominent was one in the middle that slew batlike Wharen left and right. "By the right of the sword and by Monarchical appointed mandate do I swear that federal troops will be involved in this endeavour, and we will not rest until the vile foeman has been driven out and an independent prince rule these lands and whatever effigies of the vile dragon tyrant is laid low upon holy pyre in light of the blessed sun! In so far as the imports are concern..." he begun before a sharp elbow from the first woman shut him up.

"As far as import and economical policy is concerned..." She cut him of as the elf sat down "... can I assume that, that it would be best that a woman explain that as we are more suited for economics and mathematics!" she continued.
"We have already for quite a long time kept an economic doctrine that makes it very hard for the dragon states to import items into the blessed domains of our beloved monarch, Blessed by His name and his titles, we would of course with this new goal in mind keep up this blockade to economically starve them into submission as well!" she finished on this topic. Of course the federation had similar policies on everyone in the room but it seemed smarter to phrase it like this.

"These shields though... how will we be allowed to granted control over them?" The elf spoke up as he rose up again looking suspiciously at the avatar before them. "Such defensive measures while great seems to make us highly dependant on you and yours in matters of defence and could with worrying ease be used against us as we lack the technological and scientific knowledge of how to manufacture these shields or even how they work, it would be easy to add some backdoor that most of us would never notice!"

"As for the refugeuees..." he begun and was quickly shut up with another quick jab as the woman once more spoke up "As far as refugees are concerned though, the federation always have our arms open to welcome those who flee from hardship, we can only hope that the rest of the region is willing to live in our example!"

"Some of these are of course utterly unacceptable to the federation, we will not join in the criminal court, but we will be more that willing to lead the arbitration one, nor will we join any kind of customs union but we would of course be willing to aid in the negotiations for one for those that want to join such a notion but otherwise are we also willing to offer our leadership in the freeing of Catedonia!" With that the young woman sat down once again as she left the speaking role to the rest of the floor.

[Malgrave]

In response to the request for a moment of remembrance, the Malgravean delegation could be spotted following several different regional traditions, for example, the Prime Minister extended her arms, open palms touching as if she was miming the reading of a book although her eyes were closed during the display, a form of remembrance that traced its origins to the civil war and the battle that ravaged her city, a different variation could be seen by Seo Yi-kyung, the Director-General holding her hands together, although keen observers would note the addition of a typical ASG-styled pendant within which bear resemblance to the Ring of the Ancestors, a tradition which was highly associated with the Aurora region as it invoked the symbol of the Royal Navy and reflected a deep connection to the ASG.

In contrast, the Foreign Minister simply closed her eyes and looked down towards the flood, her hands relatively idle by her side, such a simple tradition was quite typical of the Epping region, a tradition which dated back to the aftermath of the Great Exodus when a similar observance was made in the newly established capital city to honour those that had fallen during the Great Exodus and those that remained behind.

After the observance had been attended to and the Imerian delegation had finished their remarks, Nadzieja stood to speak, the Prime Minister giving a short bow to Telissat and the Imerian High King, both in recognition of the C’tani representatives earlier comments and out of respect to the contribution that the Imerians had made to the conference.

“I believe it would be prudent if I started by discussing the proposals with which Malgrave has no issues, starting with the Refugee and Immigration Protocols. Malgrave is no stranger to accepting refugees, in quite recent times we have accepted refugees from Silverdale, Crystal Spires and Kouralia, and the extensive Kouralian, Breheimian and Dornalian migrant population that is settled within both the Malgravean mainland and our overseas territories are indicative of the fact that we are quite welcome towards migrant populations as well, so I don’t see a reason to object to this proposal.

In regards to teleportation regulations, to me, this seems like a rather common-sense issue to reduce the risk involved with teleportation ancestral abilities. MalTec and MalTra have been working on a proposal on this for several years now, however, as we lack the expertise on the ancestral ability side of things I believe such an undertaking would be made quite easier through the involvement of Dystan and Silverdalean experts." Nadzieja said, the Prime Minister giving a small nod of recognition to both the Silverdalean and Dystan representatives before she continued speaking.

"I can also state that Malgrave is supportive of these proposals to form a regional customs union, although we shall need to look at any scheme in greater detail before agreeing to it I understand that such a union would be incredibly beneficial to trade in the region, as to give an example individuals across Mystria would have a far easier time importing Yukika Saito or Eclipse records.

In the same manner, we are also supportive of an Intelligence Sharing Pact, for the past few years Malgrave has endeavoured to clean up our intelligence network and with the assistance of our allies we have been able to bring some real accountability to our intelligence network by restoring the services that existed prior to the 1938 Epping Bombing and by implementing some additional oversight mechanisms, at this I can state categorically that our own experience in this has showcased the benefits of cooperation and intelligence sharing and so we are quite willing to back these proposals.

Nadzieja paused for a few moments, the Prime Minister briefly checking over some notes she had been handed to by the Foreign Minister, a small smile forming before she gave a short bow to the C’tani delegation, although what this particular gesture meant was unknown to all but the Prime Minister.

“Unfortunately, we cannot agree to everything stated in this conference, although on some of these matters we are not simply disapproving but also suggesting our recommendations for potential improvements or just stating reservations we have on a particular subject. I am quite open to the idea of an Arbitration Court in principle, however, as alluded to by my Imerian colleagues such a court should have clear guidelines and be limited to simple disputes between national governments, as the idea of a corporation or individual taking to such court is a state of affairs that would make many in Malgrave feel quite uncomfortable.

I shall also need to hear further details on this Criminal Court proposal, as without further details I cannot possibly comment on this issue, so on this matter, we shall just have to abstain until further evidence is provided, as the saying goes the railroad to madness is often covered with poorly researched academic papers and assumptions.

Furthermore, although the proposal for a Mystrian Games is quite an enlightening proposal I must echo the sentiments expressed by the Imerian delegation, a gap of five years between games is very unwise. Malgrave would be more welcome with a three or six-year gap between games, as intervals of three are much more pleasing from a local structural perspective.

It also brings me to another proposal that I would like to make on behalf of the Malgravean people today, as it was said the creation of a Mystrian Games would work to bring the nation together, however, we are all not well-versed in matters of athleticism and this could lead to certain nations feeling excluded from this process. I would therefore like to propose a Mystrian Idol Contest, an event in which singers, both in single and group form from across the region can compete together in the same spirit.

In regards to the other protocols, they appear to be quite acceptable, as a nation founded on the principles of science and engineering we are quite pleased about this Student Exchange Programme, although it would be pleasing to see such a scheme expanded to include more cooperation on scientific endeavours. Malgrave, of course, stands ready to assist on the Catedonian situation, as everyone in this room should be aware that the Royal Malgravean Navy has considerable experience in blockade actions and other engagements over the years and is quite willing to lend its skills on this front.

Ultimately, we are quite excited to hear further details on these proposals and I once more thank our Spirean hosts and the C’tani delegates for helping make this event possible.”

Nadzieja and the rest of the Malgravean delegation made a short general bow to the room before once again taking their seats.

[Imeriata]

"An addendum to the Malgravean delegations suggestion!" An Imerian spoke up, this time an young woman in the clothing that pointed her out not as a government official but instead a lady in waiting. Her skin was tanned with long curly black hair and the ice blue eyes that were so common in Sydvinland.
"Why would such things as singing, poetry, painting, be excluded from these games? Certainly should intellectual performances and forms of expression that would allow women to compete as well not be excluded from these games!" She said and looked around and saw a large number of nods and expressions of approval from the rest of the federal delegation. "Instead would I officially like to suggest that the proposal that the honoruable Malgravean delegation suggested be included into the games themselves as well as any games of poetry, songs, dance, debates, arguments of theology, and similar events!"

[Alduinium]

Ichtaca could only react with both an intense worry and a sudden anathema at the very idea of Tizoc's presence here. Once again, her two Dragon Priest 'advisors' would speak for her, almost ignoring the Catedonian in their own fits of rage.

"You invite a terrorist, murderer, and serial defiler to these beautiful lands? You invite foul sickness into beautiful Spirean lands. Would you like if we were to invite a cult of marauding vandals who skin children and pretend they were in any way the equals of civilized men and women to this conference?” The female Dragon Priest spoke again, a bitter glare in her voice. “Would you enjoy it if we invited a man who gorged himself on any of your citizens’ youth to sate his depraved needs? That is what you are inviting if you grant him audience here. If you persist regardless, you are nothing more than a fool and a traitor to the true God, willing to overlook evil to weaken what cannot crumble.”

Ichtaca nonetheless stepped forward again, the Dragon Priest finally silenced. “Forgive the vitriol of my partner, she has quite a personal story with the Pretender Prince. I do not think it wise to grant any insurgent organization, least of all one with a lengthy track record of civilian casualties and sacrifice of innocents, is a good idea for any such convention. It would be unwise to grant many of these groups even a facade of legitimacy that they could use to destabilize and damage peace across Mystria, especially from an Empire that considered itself the rightful overlords of all Mystria in its most unfettered form.”

Ichtaca was far more weary and tired than before, the pressure within her boiling now. Her poker face was excellent bar none, showing nothing more than a small frown on a surprisingly youthful face.

[Imeriata]

There was some whispers as people leaned in towards the high king during the discussion raised by the Alduinium delegation amongst the federal authorities. Hushed debates and even more hushed orders were given. Finally as Ichtaca sat down again did the red woman in the robe of the foreign relation advisory rise again.

"It may please the delegations from both the Dragon states and the C'tan that if this decision was that unpleasant to either part and that there might be something said for not putting a known terrorist as a prince of any state can His Royal Highness, in the gods eternal wisdom may He be blessed, offer an alternative, Federal occupation, We can take it upon ourselves to set up a temporary government held in feudatory status to the Absolute Royal Federation, with a local administration being faced in made up by local noblemen and noblewomen as appointed by His Royal Highness, blessed be him, until such a time when a stable dukedom can be carefully left in charge of it's own affair at which point it might either be allowed to regain independence or it might be allowed to join the absolute royal federation as a federal realm depending on a joint meeting of it's estates!" She suggested.

"Such an alternative would void any complaints about legitimacy as the right of the duke to wear the silver would be granted unto him by the High King Himself, blessed be His lineage, and it would avoid an unjustified occupation!" The woman finished as friendly smile spread over her face and her red eyes went from the dragon state delegation to the C'tan.