Travelling to and fro (TLIN members only)

[The Order of Takhisis]

0730, Entering Tagmatine Aerospace
Takhisian Imperial Navy Dreadnaught Leviathan

She appeared, knifing through a cover of clouds, with the bow splashing them apart as if it were water of the high seas. The vessel massive beyond measure, undoubtedly the largest flying aerocraft to be seen in these peaceful skies. Turbines spun the many shafts leading to eight bladed propellers. The Leviathan crested just over one-hundred-eighty-six meters in length, and a beam of seventy plus meters. As the massive airship began to descend from it's service ceiling of eleven-thousand meters, it's features could start to be discerned to the naked eye.

The top of the vessel being dominated by twin conning towers, that were more or less mirrored by stubbier versions on the underside of the vessel. It also bore the look of something not entirely of this world, as it was not just simply an airship, but a dreadnaught of the skies. Visibly present were the eight 6 × 28 cm (11 in) guns on four turrets, with two turrets at the aft bearing the same cannon type. Littering the yoweth ith class are thirty-two 20mm phalanx turrets, surrounding both the launch deck, and conning towers of top and bottom. The broadside weapons on the ship are ten 8 × 15 cm (5.9 in) cannons evenly divided between the left and right broadsides. Littering about on the dorsal and spinal areas of the vessel were the dual box launcher turrets, capable of firing air to air intercept missiles as well as air to ground anti-armor and or emplacements.

Most impressively on either flank of the vessel, at it's meatiest at least, were large emblazoned emblems of the Takhisian Imperial Knights, specifically regarding those of the Lily. It was a white flower atop twin blades, one facing up, and the other facing down. Wreathed in a slightly faded five headed dragon muted to be seen but not overwhelm the images atop it. Rising above the central mass of the warship, and extending above the bridge is a high mast which has both a listening post with numerous sounding horns as well as a lookout post. Attached to flutter in the wind was a flag bearing the image of the Takhisian Order and the Empire.

As she steamed towards her destination, two other versions also became apparent. They were much smaller, but still formidable and occupied a role akin to that of destroyers. While the Leviathan was of a burnt silver-platinum, these were a muted rust-burgundy with grey outlining. A smaller buzzing sound, and push prop fighters shot past those casual land based observers, streaking their silvered hides to gleam in the rising dawn's light. These were the defenders and interceptors held by the airships, and more could be deployed, but two was enough for what they were doing. The radar signature alone would be sending spasms into the Tagmatine responders and it wasn't long before the communication officer was standing behind two pairs of enlisted sailors, proffering a sheet of tele-type paper. While the airship looked as if it was some sort of archaic beast, they did have a merging of technologies for some things. The message was a polite greeting and of course notification of their arrival and that diplomatic personnel and entourage should number no more then five and so on.

The communication officer by name of Tyrel had a thin slice of hair atop his head, silvering as his age was much higher then many on the Leviathan. He was nearly fifty years of age and had a weathered face of which his green eyes peered forth out of. His uniform was like the other officers as it consisted of having closed lapels with the top open and gold edged lapels. The jacket having a long skirted coat, without a turnback. The uniform itself was a light blue and went with the colours of the lapels and so forth quite well.

He approached the raised command section of the bridge, passing several of the senior bridge officers to directly approach the Leviathan's Lord of Host, Duke of the North, Syious De'Wyren. " My Duke, communications has sent the diplomatic message as requested." Syious had a hard look to him, he was just over one point eight meters in heighth, just a few centimeters taller then Tyrel actually. While younger then the communication officer, he was no less weathered, possessing an angular face of a Nordic like people.

Closely cropped grey hair lay atop his scalp, a tattoo lay across right temple in a series of lines with runic glyphs in what could only be a mentioning of something important. His uniform mirrored that of Tyrel's save it was white in hue. " Very good Tyrel, inform the pilots to return to their berths and.." He glanced over towards the navigation officer, a woman named Estralita. " Estralita, do bring us to hovering at proper height. "

The woman in question was roughly the same heighth as her Duke, of which was pretty much an average overall. She was a brunette, hair cut to her shoulders and currently mostly under her officers cap. She nodded and began directing the team of six pilots needed to maneuver the Leviathan. Hover proper meant twenty-six meters above the ground, so essentially just above one's head. There was a subtle shift in the deck plates as the Leviathan and her escorts began the maneuver, of which her pilots were returning as this was going on.

As each Dhac fighter nuzzled up to the exposed grab hangers, which essentially secured the plane from about the nose and just before the engine so as not to snap the blades. One by one they were brought aboard, clanking gears upon the air as each was drawn aboard while the airship began to draw closer and closer to the ground. Tree's and the very earth would feel the reverberations of the many propeller's washes and the shadow cast by the Leviathan alone would and was probably cause for some alarm as it crested over land and homes alike.

[Tagmatium]

The morning shift at Tagmatika International Airport had just taken over from the night shift. Basil Tzinankos, the air traffic controller in charge of watching the further approaches to the airspace around Tagmatika, yawned and stretched at his console. He reached up with one hand and itched at his shaven chin before settling his headset more comfortably. His other hand reached out and grabbed and his cup of coffee. He took a sip and thought about the briefing his team had received before they’d taken over from the night shift. The main topic was that some barbaroi delegation from one of the Greater Holy Empire’s new allies were visiting in order to pick up some diplomats before progressing to their own nation. Using airships, of all things. A bit of a laugh had rippled through the meeting room when that was mentioned, everyone picturing ancient lighter-than-air ships that had been discarded by most civilised nations decades ago.

They were supposed to turn up at 07:30 and most of the air traffic controllers were keeping an eye on their screens for when these backward savages did arrive. Most people wanted to be the first to spot them. However, Basil knew that he would be the first to do so, due to the area of airspace that he monitored. A blip appeared from the direction he had been told the airships would and he kept an eye on it whilst taking another sip from his cup. It then kept getting larger and larger. The radar return was massive. In a moment of incomprehension, Basil scrubbed at the screen in front of him with the cuff of his shirt. When the large smuge didn’t disappear but resolved itself further and formed itself into three distinct masses, further surrounded by smaller returns, he sat back and ran a hand through his thinning hair. He had been told of the Takhisian airships and had been waiting their arrival, but the presence on his screen told him a lot about their sheer magnitude. How could such monsters stay in the air? Lighter-than-air travel had died in the Greater Holy Empire in the 1940s, when aeroplanes had proved that they were much more useful and, if nothing else, harder to hit than slowly-moving bags of hydrogen. Tzinankos sat agape at his terminal for a few moments before he realised what he was supposed to be doing and flagged down his supervisor.

“Hey, Paul. The barbaroi airships have arrived in our airspace.”

The terse sentence didn’t really encapsulate the action that it kicked started. The supervisor, a chubby man in a sweat-stained blue shirt, walked over and looked over Tzinankos’ shoulder. Like him, the supervisor’s mouth dropped open for a moment at the picture on the screens. He then waddled over to his desk and grabbed at his telephone, rapidly bashing in a number and reporting to his superiors that the Takhisian delegation were here. The air traffic supervisor was told to sit tight and monitor their progress over the Tagmatine capital. The Imperial Government were aware of their progress and, indeed, had been monitoring it before the civil aviation authorities had been aware of the airships’ arrival.

The supervisor mopped his brow with a handkerchief after he put down the telephone.

“We’re to keep an eye on them as they come in,” he said. “The high-ups know they’re here already and the Ministry of Aviation has supplied the information to all of the carriers in the area.”

Tzinankos nodded and turned back to his radar screen. The airships were making themselves more clear on the screen and he was still astounded at the size of them. They undoubtedly could be seen across the Tagmatine capital and from the coast from quite a long way off. Their arrival would undoubtedly cause comment for weeks, if not months, to come.

---

A squadron of Ierakas fighters were scrambled from a military base near the Tagmatine capital. They weren’t the slow, lumbering and aged craft that some of the Takhisians might have seen operating above the skies of Karthay in the colours of the Holy Imperial Air Force. These beasts, like the falcons they were named after, were agile, light and hard-hitting. They flew in formation, to act as an aerial honour guard for the incoming airships and their attendant craft, rather than as a statement of mistrust towards the intentions of the new arrivals. Not that the size of the armament that the airships carried didn’t have some within the Imperial Government worried.

The airships themselves were slower that the swift fighters, who were forced to slow down to maintain the formation. The behemoths themselves were guided by air traffic control in towards a rendezvous point above the bay that the Tagmatine capital sat astride. Here, they would meet up with the helicopter carrying the diplomatic representatives from the Imperial Government.

---

The heavy transport helicopter that made its way towards the airships was almost instantly recognisable. It was painted in a blue-grey with a black boarded red strip running around its body. A large representation of the Tagmatine flag emblazoned its hull, which made it clear to all who saw it as a helicopter utilised by the Imperial Government. The helicopter itself was, as it transpired, overlarge for the small diplomatic staff that it carried. The lead member of the diplomatic staff was Logothetes of Wider World Affairs, Konstantian Makarios. Along with him rode Logothetes of War Staurakios Zoilos, who had been thrust into the lime light after the events in Karthay, as well as a representative of the Iconoclastic Church, a pair of notaries and a clutch of body guards from the Imperial Household Guard.

Makarios himself sat against one of the sides of the helicopter, looking somewhat sullen in his smart business suit. One hand clutched the headphones he was wearing against the battering of the helicopter’s rotor blades whilst the other was gripped around his seatbelt. He wasn’t a fan of helicopters – they had always struck him as the most fragile of heavier-than-air aircraft. Just his luck that he was being conveyed in one towards an airship. Part of the way the Greater Holy Empire was run meant that it encouraged rivalry in its ministerial staff, and his personal rival had seen fit to send him emails containing images of airship disasters. She’d claimed that she was helping to educate him in the event that the worst might happen, but he knew that it was nothing more than a petty attempt to unnerve him. Even though he knew it, Makarios didn’t really wish to set foot on any floating gasbags, potentially full of hydrogen and just itching to explode.

“They look magnificent, don’t they, Logothetes Makarios?” said Zoilos, talking about the Takhisian airfleet hanging above the bay. The man was craning his neck to look through the open door of the cockpit, over the pilots’ shoulders towards their destination. It was if he’d taken his last trip in a similar helicopter entirely in his stride.

Fuck off, thought the Logothetes of Wider World Affairs.

“They certainly dwarf our aircraft, Logothetes Zoilos,” was what he actually said.

Makarios did, however, look down the central passageway towards the behemoths hanging seemingly virtually motionless in the sky. They did look magnificent, even though Makarios loathed to admit it. They might be floating deathtraps, but they demanded attention. It was almost unforgiveable that such barbaroi could be able to produce such monumental works that the Greater Holy Empire couldn’t, but he was reminded of the technological differences as he caught sight of one of the Tagmatine honour guard fighters. The Takhisians seemed to do things differently. Makarios, as befitting, had read as much as he could about them when he’d been given this assignment and he still couldn’t quite reconcile some of the reports he had read in his own mind. The pictures of their armoured fighting vehicles and their aircraft… Well, they were entirely outdated. The tanks would have been cannonfodder for those used by the Greater Holy Empire by the end of the Long War, over sixty years ago, let alone these days. He wasn’t, admittedly, a soldier but a diplomat, but the pictures Makarios had seen had made him draw these conclusions.

He wasn’t expecting much in the way of technology or comforts when the helicopter touched down on the landing pad of the Dreadnaught Leviathan. The small Imperial Household Guard group filed down onto the deck first, dressed in mirror-shined black lacquered plate and lamellar mail and stern-faced sallet helms. They had swords at their hips, but no firearms. Oaths decreed that they would not give up their swords. Makarios walked between them and had a moment of vertigo as he looked over the first soldier’s shoulder across a scene he had usually seen, but now from several hundred feet above where he was used to seeing it. The feeling passed quickly, however and Logothetes Makarios stood on the landing pad of the dreadnought, awaiting the arrival of the Takhisian welcoming party.

[The Order of Takhisis]

Arrival

Waiting to greet the helicopter and it's entourage deboarding was that of the Executive Officer, Frel Daist. A clean shaven and good looking man, with an aristocratic face and fine blue eyes. He seemed around forty or so with greying hair, but retained the vigour of a younger man. He appeared self-possessed and decided and was popular amongst those crew under his command because of his care for their concerns. Business was handled with short orders and short replies, so that despite an absence of military formalities everything was done professionally.

He wore as the senior officers wore, a white uniform with a black sash across the chest connected to a black belt. Both hands were gloved, and he offered a salute with the left hand, palm lightly turned upwards, with index finger barely cresting against left temple. Just behind him, four sailors in the customary dark blue snapped their heels together with a resounding clicking sound, mirroring the salute. After a moment Frel retracted his arm to a more comfortable position, though there was a bit of worry about the helicopter and his face showed it a moment.

He leaned in a bit, and his slightly southern hinterlands accent had a bit of a twinge to it. " Honored Sirs, it would be best if your aerocraft arose soon. So close to the magnetic coils, it could be quite dangerous for it to remain to long." Even the static electricity could be felt at this point, as a rolling sensation uponst ones skin under the clothing. " Please if you will follow me, I will lead you to your staterooms." He took a step backwards and the sailors parted to form a passage as a hefty hatch opened to allow a vision of the metal girder decking and the bulkhead lined maw like passage that led further into the ship.

Once within, the hatch would close though the sailors would bring up the rear. Frel would lead the way down the passage, making sure the way was clear, and then down several ladders, in order to go down two levels to the crew and stateroom areas. The diplomats,, the priest, and their guard would have two staterooms. " Each room holds four beds, and a washing area. Bathrooms are further down, and clearly marked. You are free to head to the main bridge or you may wait here until dinner is to be served. A sailor will inform you and your entourage Honored Sirs."

Frel instinctively felt the subtle motion in the deck, as the airship was beginning it's pivot. The motion took some time as the bulky vessel began the act of reversing it's position, setting navigation for another destination and another diplomatic pick-up site. There was a hefty vibration for a moment as the engines were throttled a bit more then normal, this meant that the hovering was disengaging and momentum was being managed as the engines were producing propulsion for movement.

[Tagmatium]

The Takhisians were smartly dressed, overly militaristic in their clothes, as all barbarians seemed to be. Makarios then remembered that this was, in fact, a military vessel and so the uniforms weren’t out of place. Still, he looked down on them as inferior to the uniforms of the Greater Holy Empire.

The four soldiers of the Imperial Household Guard fell in behind the diplomatic staff as they walked towards the welcoming party, casting glances about them, making sure that nothing untoward awaited their charges. Diplomatic missions from the Greater Holy Empire had become significantly more paranoid since the events of Karthay. These soldiers were doubly wary since they’d been reduced to their ceremonial weapons. The welcoming party snapped their heels together and the lead officer, a youngish man with greying hair gave a salute as they did so. The Tagmatine diplomats offered a half-bow in return whilst the four bodyguards snapped their heels together and stood to attention.

The leader of the Takhisian welcoming committee leaned towards Makarios, a look of concern on his face. The expression perturbed the Logothetes, as it probably wouldn’t bode well.

“Honored sirs, it would be best if your aerocraft arose soon. So close to the magnetic coils, it could be dangerous for it to remain for too long.”

And the expression certainly didn’t mean anything good. Makarios pulled a face at the news. Presumably, the magnetic field could screw up the helicopter’s electronics, in a similar manner to an EMP weapon. If the magnetic field was that strong, then what could it be doing to those on board? He consoled himself with the idea that if the Takhisians were still functioning well after flying from God only knew where, then presumably it wouldn’t have a detrimental effect on the delegates. After all, only truly savage nations allowed harm to befall diplomats in their care. The Tagmatine’s slightly paranoid train of thought was broken when the officer spoke again.

“Please, if you would follow me, I would lead you to your staterooms.”

The Tagmatine delegation trooped in through the honour guard, following the officer. Makarios followed on behind, with Zoilos behind him, then the delegation’s notary and the priest, with the bodyguard taking the rear. Makarios would have felt a lot happier if some of the bodyguard were leading as well, but it wouldn’t do to infer that he didn’t trust the Greater Holy Empire’s ally. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs representative also would have thought that his counterpart from the Ministry of War would have been a bit more worried after the events on Karthay, but a look over his shoulder told him that Zoilos was looking around avidly, taking in the sights and sounds of the air battleship. The man caught the look and gave Makarios a grin.

“It’s a wonder, isn’t it, Logothetes? That such a thing could stay in the air…” To reinforce his point, he stamped a couple of times on the solid metal decking, causing a moment of consternation in Makarios.

I really fucking wish you wouldn’t do that, Makarios thought.

“Yes, indeed, it is a wonder,” he said through a forced smile. The Logothetes for War didn’t notice the faked enthusiasm, but continued to gawp like a tourist.

They were led down several ladders within the bowels of the airship, presumably to the accommodation areas of the vessel. The ladders didn’t exactly please Makarios, but they were much more economical with space than flights of stairs. He wondered whether the Takhisians had anything like a civilian version of these airships and wondered why they didn’t use them instead. Presumably they didn’t possess such things, or perhaps this was an exercise in overawing their allies. The behemoths seemed like they would shrug off conventional anti-aircraft weaponry, at least as far as Makarios could tell. He had never served in any of the Greater Holy Empire’s armed forces, but he knew that anti-aircraft measures were usually missile-based these days. The airships looked like they would need pounded from old-style naval guns, the kind seen on battleships from the Long War, before they would go down. At least that could be said in the monstrosity’s favour.

The officer led them down further and then stood outside a door. These were obviously the accommodation for the Tagmatine delegation.

“Each room holds four beds, and a washing area. Bathrooms are further down, and clearly marked. You are free to head to the main bridge or you may wait here until dinner is served. A sailor will inform you and your entourage, honoured sirs.”

The Logothetes of Wider World Affairs sniffed, showing his displeasure at the state of affairs. The dignity of the Greater Holy Empire demanded that each of the Logothetai were given separate staterooms, that this officer and his barbaroi compatriots did their utmost to serve their obvious superiors… Makarios was about to harangue the Takhisian officer, before he caught the glare of Zoilos. Taken aback by the expression of his ministerial colleague, Makarios gave the officer a quick half-bow and thanked him for showing the delegation to their rooms.

A sudden vibration shook the ship and Makarios felt a wave of nausea pass over him. Damn, but this mode of transport didn’t agree with him. Why the hell didn’t these heathens use aeroplanes, like normal people? The engines gave another shudder and he suppressed the urge to cling to the wall whilst the feeling of sickness passed. After all, he was representing his nation here. He swallowed, attempting to drive down the rising feeling in his stomach.

“We would be honoured if you would be so good as to show us to the main bridge.” For a moment, Makarios a childish surge of resentment towards Zoilos, who was obviously enjoying his time on this alien vessel, floating as it was in defiance of all Tagmatine technology. Disallowing him to come to the bridge would be a snub, towards both Zoilos and the Ministry of War. In the end, Makarios decided that it wasn’t worth being so petty. “That is, myself, Logothetes Zoilos and the Molaghos-Kentarkhes, the head of the bodyguard.”

[The Order of Takhisis]

Onto the Bridge

Frel nodded to the request to proceed to the bridge. The unsteady reverberations throughout the airship dreadnought had already ceased as the engine output had shifted to full speed ahead. The ride was becoming noticeably more smooth and refined, such was the life aboard such vessels as this and the Takhisians had a good many of them to get it right. The Executive Officer nodded at those coming with and then proceeded to the right, and then the left, pausing at the bulkhead hatch. " This way honored sirs "

Sailors stepped backwards, making an opening for the passage of the guests and the lead officer. There were several junior officers in light blue. Senior officers weren't noticeable until they'd gone up at least three ladders and then to a squat looking service elevator that was quite large once within. It fit the entire party. " This will make it easier, and it will put us on the command and control level."

He nodded to the nearby sailor who pulled a lever to the right and two doors closed. There was a thunk, then a ka-thunk sound as the gears began to clunk along and hoisted the elevator up. Through the thin shafts of light shining through, three decks went by before the light turned a brilliant blue shade as they were passing to the left of the massive magnetic-ragnite reactor.

For some the walls might seem like they were closing in, as the magnetic field took some time getting used to, and then it was gone as four more decks slid by until the box came to rest on it's destination. The twin doors opened, one going up, the other going low. A brief moment in a corridor, and then the command and control of the main mast conning tower.

The C&C of the airship Leviathan however was unlike anything the Tagmatine's had probably been in before. There was a low bridge that housed light up map tables, with computer aided images of terrain and so forth. Navigation was on a raised platform section overlooking this lower area, and above that was the observation, communication section, and above that on a fourth tier platform was the command deck, where the Lord of the Leviathan resided.

Frel led the way to another lift, this one had a simple set of bars as a railing and the electric motor hummed to life as he clenched the lift stick. When it came to the command deck, he exited first and held the safety door for the guests. They'd be to the right and facing the..well throne of the vessel's commander and the sunken command stations of the other senior officers. He saluted, but not towards them, but another individual, this one stepping down from the throne, attire mirroring that of the Executive Officer.

Frel turned to the dignitaries gathered, as well as their bodyguards. " Leviathan's Lord of Host and Commanding Officer, Duke of the North, Syious De'Wyren. " He turned to the now named Duke. " My Duke, Logothetes Zoilos and the Molaghos-Kentarkhes of The Greater Holy Empire of Tagmatium." Syious was just as tall as his second in command, though he bore an almost grey-ish blue hair that was thinly cropped atop head. His eyes were of grey, and he was faintly tanned with a weathered look. His age apparent was early forties and it was evident he was career military, though obviously of an aristocratic nature concerning his title as well. Where as his officers saluted, he offered a slight bow of head. " Welcome guests, to my command, the Leviathan. "

He paused a moment before continuing. " By now you have noticed we already leaving the aerospace of your native land. At maximum thrust, we are cresting two-hundred-eighty-seven kilometers per hour and are proceeding to the next dignitary pickup." He slid his hands behind back, a well practiced and comfortable position. " Our next stop will be the lands of the Calussai. Have you ever been to that land, I find myself woefully under educated about it's people and land. "

" Oh and one more thing. " He paused again. " While we are allies, and esteemed ones at that, where we share blood for an island beyond the horizon, there is only one area I would ask that you not investigate while you are aboard. Please do not pursue investigation of our engineering section. All other areas are free to you however. " Perhaps caution on the Takhisian part, or perhaps they just wished to keep the secret of their ways, theirs and theirs alone.

[Tagmatium]

The airship had at least stopped juddering and Makarios felt that slightly happier about travelling aboard it. Had it continued, then he had no idea what he would have done. In all honesty, the Tagmatine knew that he would have had to have borne it stoically. He would have hardly had increased his esteem within his Ministry by demanding that the airship was turned around to drop him back off. It would, basically, have been a very ignominious end to his career, completely beyond salvaging. Any hopes of succeeding the current Megas Logothetes would have been completely dashed.

The Takhisian officer seemed more than happy to show them the bridge. Zoilos would obviously adore seeing the workings of this barbaroi aircraft, but Makarios himself didn’t really care to. He supposed that seeing the officer in command would be considered the done thing, as the commanders of vessels would usually introduce themselves to important guests if it were a ship of the Greater Holy Empire, civilian or otherwise. The Tagmatine diplomat supposed that he was taking a proactive stance on this front. Undoubtedly, the command staff would have introduced themselves anyway.

“This way on, honoured sirs.”

The executive officer led the way, sailors stepping out of the way as the guests followed the naval officer towards the bridge. Walking around inside the vessel brought it made it obvious to the Tagmatine delegation as to how huge it was. It has been assumed that the internals would be taken up with helium cells (hydrogen, obviously, out of the question) but it wasn’t the case. It seemed to be more akin to an ordinary warship on the inside than what the Tagmatines knew of airships. Such things were virtually only known historically within the Greater Holy Empire. That they climbed up more ladders brought this home to the delegation more. Finally, there was a lift. Makarios was glad about this – sitting in an office and plotting and counter-plotting in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs didn’t allow much time for proper exercise.

“This will make it easier, and it will put us on the command and control level.”

Makarios gave a nod in agreement, although it was a superfluous gesture. The noise of the machinery was oddly comforting, distracting from the idea that they were thousands of metres up, floating in a machine that denied conventional science. The research and development branch of the Paramonai would love to get their hands on this technology... There was an odd feeling as they apparently passed the ship’s main engines, but that was quickly gone. The doors open and they were onto the main bridge.

I really, really don’t want to look out of the window.

The thought flashed rapidly through Makarios’ head. He stood for a moment as the other two of delegation filed past him. The head of the bodyguard stopped as soon as he noticed that one of his charges had stopped and he turned around, his helmet cocked to once side, quizzically, in a similar manner to a dog. It was an odd thought – Makarios had flown before and it really was no different than looking out of an aeroplane’s window. The logothetes shook his head and returned to the head of the Tagmatine delegation as they moved onto the bridge of the floating dreadnought. The first level of the bridge was… definitely interesting. The only real thing which marked it apart from any equivalents of the Greater Holy Empire was the fact that it was suspended in the air. They weren’t here to monitor the technical abilities of an ally. At least, not officially – notes would be taken, none the less. But diplomatic meetings were always an occasional to awe allies and friends, and the Takhisian airships were a sight to be seen. The bridge itself didn’t look much more different to a Tagmatine warship. The fact that it was thousands of meters up in the air was both an awe-inspiring and worrying thought for Logothetes Makarios.

The delegation was introduced to the airship’s captain and Makarios suppressed a snort of derision at the officer’s long list of titles. The Logothetes of Wider World Affairs of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs found the man’s exalted list of titles to be ridiculous, typical of barbarians, who liked to make themselves sound as impressive as possible with bombastic titles, as if they could hide their inferiority by mere words. Of course, Makarios didn’t express such opinions, but gave the traditional half-bow when he was introduced, as did Zoilos. The Molaghos-Kentarkhes came to attention. Makarios stepped forward, marking himself as the lead of the Tagmatine delegation.

“I thank you for welcoming us aboard your vessel, droungarios. It is a most interesting…” he struggled to find the word for a moment, “…ship. Few within the Greater Holy Empire have seen such as like it before. It speaks of the technological abilities of a nation such as that of yours to have such a great vessel aloft, when others have them supported by the waves of the sea, as opposed to those of the air.”

Makarios attempted to say the last sentence in the tongue of the host nation, and he knew that his delivery was haphazard, but it did to flatter foreign nations. The captain lauded the abilities of his own vessel, as military types seemed wont to do. Zoilos looked like he was drinking it in and Makarios privately rolled his eyes before attempting to assure the Takhisian that they weren’t there to steal military secrets.

“Of course, droungarios, we are all allies here. Me and my compatriots are not going to nose about where we do not belong.”

[The Order of Takhisis]

Diplomats, oh Diplomats

Syious nodded at the reply, though captain was not his rank, he was well aware of the Tagmatium issue revolving around nobility beyond their own borders. It was a small matter, and one that had been expected long ahead of their arrival. The janky butchering of the provisional tongue however had not been on that list. He hid the wind with a slight cough, commenting loosely on some allergy or another before plucking a watch from his right most jacket pocket. The silver coated object gleamed a bit as the lid was flipped open. " Ah, you may feel free to remain on the bridge or wander as you wish. Dinner I am told will be served at five o'clock. "

Frel spoke up then. " And we have quite the treat. Worg steaks, ribs, and several pastas. I do believe a salad and a soup as well. Our arrival was slightly delayed as we filled our stocks with delicacies for honored guests." Which of course had also primed every sailor aboard with big grins as the best food that could be had within the Order, was on the Leviathan. After his comment however, Frel was back to business, issuing an order to a pair of Ensigns manning a station to the immediate left and below about a meter or so. " Signal Vanguard Escort, send out recon aerocraft, and prepare for figure three flight."

Figure three wasn't really hard to figure out. Since there were only three vessels, it was a sort of triangle formation that allowed for easier dispersal of defensive aerocraft and or armaments. Frel was already giving orders to the communication station as well. " Send a message to the Kritarchy Ministry of Foreign Affairs, that we are on our way. " A chorus of yessirs, and the bridge crew went to work. Engineering came through from their section. " Sirs, we are approaching the safety margin of seventy-three percent of reactor usage. "

Syious nodded, commenting as he did so. " Very good, continue on course. " An officer stepped forward, a headset around his head, with a thin data pad similar to the ever popular touch screen tablets that were taking over the civilian markets. " We'll be in the Kritarchy's aerospace within seven hours. " He of course wouldn't sit for the moment, like a hawk he patrolled the upper bridge, casting his gaze down upon the rest, and periodically back towards the Tagmatium delegation.

Several Hours Later

A junior officer with the emblem of the Legion of Ariakan, indeed all the sailors had it, arrived at the first of the staterooms and politely knocked. Two raps and then he took a few steps backwards, hands at his sides waiting for the diplomats and their entourage. Much like his status, he was young, probably eighteen or nineteen years of age, and he already had two medals of valor for combat duties. Once afore mentioned diplomats were gathered, he'd take the lead. Offering some insight to the dreadnought as well.

" Honored Sirs, I am Anar DeSoto, of the rank irral iejir, I am a junior officer of the Armaments ". He offered a slight tip of head. " I'm not very aware of how much you know about our ship.." He said as leading the way through the nearest corridor. " She has three different wardrooms (places to eat), besides that of the Commander's private eatery. " Of which he'd get into as leading the way towards the very large lift from before, that had been used to go to the bridge. " The first one is the Enlisted Mess, it's located forward on the third deck and is where most of the aircrew tend to eat. Working uniforms are the norm; flight suits, deck jerseys and dirty uniforms are all acceptable to wear. You probably wont go there, or maybe you will, who knows. "

A nod to the Ensign at the ready of the lift, waiting until the party was getting in all the way. " The second is the Officer's Mess, a bit more refined and formal, no flight suits or dirty uniforms are allowed. " This said as the doors were finally closed. " The last of course is the High Command Eatery. This is where most of your dinners will be handled during our deployment as your travel hosts to the provisional territories." As the doors opened again on deck five, and he himself stepped forward. Eventually the path taken would lead into an area that saw very few enlisted sailors about. This was the officer's deck, where the command and control personnel lived their lives when on tours of duty.

A right, then a left, followed by another right to a hatch. A rap of knuckled and the hatch opened from the interior. Several of the senior officers, the ship's head medical officer, another who appeared to be the counter-part to religious needs that the Tagmatines brought with, and several others that served a variety of purposes. The table that greeted them was of red oak, and massive. It was made to seat the entirety of the entourage, as well as the officers staffed on the Leviathan. At it's head, was that of the Commander of the vessel, and to the right was that of the executive officer, and the medical officer on the left. The other side of the table, in the tail position mind you, was a spot ordained for the senior diplomat and then right or left for the ranks that followed.

The Chief of the ship, and his subordinates had already brought out the soups, the salads, the small appetizers and what not. Wine of a reddish hue had also been poured into cups, fresh caskets popped. The scent of cooking meat, roasting away lingered about the table as said subordinates also set down bowls filled with bread rolls. Syious extended his right arm in a polite gesture to the open seats, " Gentlemen, if you would be seated, it would be our honor to dine with you. "

[Tagmatium]

The suddenly impassive faces of the Takhisians told the logothetes all he needed to know. He mirrored their blank looks but winced inwardly, suspecting that he ought not to have bothered attempting to learn their tongue. It demonstrated willing, but nonetheless… It was done now, nothing could take away the lingering feeling of embarrassment that Makarios felt. He was no master of languages, and the simple phrasing had taken him a very long time to master. He hoped that they’d at least be appreciative of that. Makarios noted Syious’ cough and apology, guessing as to exactly the reason, and was grateful that the officer pretended that his surprise was caused by something other than horror at the mauling of his nation’s language.

“It is an honour that you invite us to dinner, droungarios,” said Makarios, giving a half-bow that was repeated by both Zoilos and the Molaghos-Kentarkhes. The sailors all seemed to cheer up as Frel talked about the meal that was being provided to the diplomats, something that the Tagmatines weren’t sure was a good sign or not.

Worg steaks? What in Christ’s name was a “worg”? thought Makarios.

It sounded like what some tongues referred to as a wolf, or perhaps even dog. Different cultures felt that different animals were off-limits from a culinary perspective and the Greater Holy Empire certainly didn’t eat canines as standard… it was something that had only been really eaten during a siege. Not necessarily something that the logothetes would be happy eating, but it would be rude to refuse. It might not even be dog, but some weird creature native to the lands of these barbaroi, Makarios reasoned to himself. It would be a snowball’s chance in hell that the Takhisians would have a decent retsina on board this floating anachronism, but at least it was something to experience. One could tell a lot from a culture by its food and how it was prepared. The Tagmatine diplomat knew of nations where the dormouse was a delicacy, forced fed until it filled a ceramic vessel and then boiled alive… he hoped that Takhisians didn’t indulge in quite so cruel culinary habits.

Once Frel had finished outlining the menu, the command staff returned to the task of running the airship, issuing orders and setting the huge vessel and its escorts on course towards the next stop on the delegation’s route. Most of the orders went over Makarios’ head, although he noted semi-naked curiosity on Zoilos’ face. The same expression would probably have been on the face of the head of the Tagmatine bodyguard, but that was masked by the helmet that he wore. Makarios caught the attention of Zoilos.

“We’ll probably just get under their feet here, Logothetes. Best that we go back to our rooms until dinner time.”

The Logothetes for War looked disappointed, but he nodded his agreement.

---

There was a knock at the stateroom’s door and Makarios looked up from the information document that he was re-reading. He had washed and dressed in a fresher suit a good half-hour before and had been killing time idly looking through some of the information that his ministry had provided for him on Takhisis. It never did to be late, as it could be construed as a rudeness towards a diplomatic host, or a snub. He rose to his feet and ran a hand over his clothes and through his hair, making sure that everything was as presentable as it could be. In theory, a logothetes of the Greater Holy Empire had ceremonial, courtly robes that could be worn for such special occasions, but these had fallen out of favour in the reign of Kommodos III. Plus, Makarios thought that he himself looked like a bit of an idiot in them.

The head of the bodyguard opened the door after the logothetes of Wider World Affairs had given him a curt nod. The soldier gave the Takisian sailor a brief half-bow before stepping aside and allowing Makarios into the doorway. The sailor’s monologue washed over the minister, who was looking at the array of medals on the chest of the man… well, he must have been younger than twenty and already he had lots of shiny baubles. Typical barbaroi, glorifying in the glinting things.

As the sailor left, the rest of the Tagmatine delegation followed on in his wake. It followed the same pattern as before, Makarios feigning interest whilst off in his own thoughts and Zoilos and the Molaghos-Kentarkhes seemingly genuinely interested in the technological marvel that was the airship. This time, the priest was also with them, as Makarios had thought it best to make sure that the representative of the Iconoclastic Orthodox Church was included in the events, just to make sure that the powerful organisation was not being snubbed. He didn’t know much about the man, or care to, and part of him was curious to see whether the priest would do anything like attempt to lead them in saying grace over the food. Which was something that struck Makarios as something that could potentially be quite amusing. Or, he realised, the perfect way to insult the foreign heathens.

Shit.

The Foreign Ministry logothetes pulled himself back from his own thoughts when the sailor stopped short of a hatch and knocked on it. Makarios took the brief moment before the hatch opened to straighten his tie and smooth out any creases in his suit. The sound of armour clinking and jingling made clear that the Imperial Household Guardsman was also making sure that his uniform looked impressive. It was a mixture of platemail and lamellar, covered in mirror-shined black lacquer, over an antique-looking red uniform, topped off by a stern-looking masked sallet helm. Ordinarily, the helm would not be removed in the presence of anyone other than other members of the Imperial Household Guard, but this was an obvious impracticality when attempting to be part of a diplomatic dinner.

The smells of the banquet were definitely appetising. Even if they were made from whatever the hell a “worg” was, and the potential for pot-boiled dormice. As the Tagmatine delegation entered the High Command Eatery, Makarios was struck by the size of the table that dominated the room. It was made from a red wood he couldn’t identify from where he stood – nor would he be able to identify it when sat at it, as he was no wood expert. The room reminded him of one of the many stately homes that lay across the Greater Holy Empire. It was amazing to think that it was several thousand metres above the earth. That thought made a wave of nausea pass through the Tagmatine, but rather than the smell of the food making it worse, it made it lessen.

After the droungarios spoke, Makarios gave the traditional half-bow.

“It is a great honour that you do us, droungarios. We are grateful that you allow us to sit with your noble and brave officers and treat us to such impressive fare.”

[The Order of Takhisis]

The Dinner

Syious chuckled slightly as he could tell by subtle reactions that their guests had no idea what a Worg was. A creature that was home to the Territories temperate plains and forests. Now that he thought of such, they were pretty much everywhere except for the cities and townships. Because of their fast breeding, they'd been early on, a large portion of the diet. It was rare in this modern age to consume the flesh of the Worg, so it was reserved as a delicacy these days.

" Gentlemen, of our honored ally, the meal presented to you, is considered by many, a traditional staple. There are however some delicacies mingled in with this, rarities of our homeland that only come out for large events. Please let us know what you think of such, after of course trying whatever it is you comment on of course." As if on cue, several sailors marched out of the kitchen holding a platter that was nearly a meter long. It was set upon a carving table, the roasted flesh quite apparent. It was essentially wolf like in form, nearly filling the platter.

The height of the cooked creature reached nearly a meter itself the shoulder. It required several to lift the platter, as per said tray was solid silver with brass inlines. The Chief Cook took a stand to the right of the platter with a very large knife and a long plucking fork. " Lord of Hosts, Honored guests, I present the cooking style of the Tyrelli, a river people of the Tyrell River township within the Takhisian provisional territories. This is a rather large beast, one hundred-thirty ought six in weight. Roasted to a fine medium burn, sauteed with lemons, garlic, and red wine sauce." He paused and then continued.

His accent was a bit different then Syious's, more gutteral and rough hewn, but clear enough that what he was saying was coming across well enough. Like many senior officers, he spoke the common (English) tongue. Enlisted and the common citizenry were slowly adapting to this need, indeed it had become a secondary requirement in the education system not to long ago. So that the next generation of Takhisians could converse politely with allies such as the Tagmatines present today.

" Accompanying this meal, is a flood of appetizers from the homeland. As such, and with permission of our Host, we have compiled several dishes, the most popular of the delicacies and will be bringing them out as a sort of sampler. I will give a brief description of each dish, for you our guests as well as our country-men alike. After of which I and a few others will task ourselves with making ready with the main dish, there is a bit of work to do still. So please, enjoy our taste of home until it is time." The Chief clapped his hands harshly and sailors in white uniforms appeared near immediately, each bearing a singular platter and cover of which was lifted as soon as it was set down uponst the massive table.

The first was placed before Makarios. " Ah a fine treat, a much sought after dish from the Rock Landing Province. That would be xiiva sauriv. In the common tongue, it's Shark Eyes. The fatty, jelly like tissue around the eye is fried with garlic." Another dish was set down, this time before Zoilos. " Ah exquisite. Hamir hoinpic or in the common, Spider legs. They are crispy on the outside and gooey in the middle, with the white delicate meat in the head and body tasting rather like a cross between chicken and cod for a taste reference."

Next came Frel, an officer known for his rather diverse tastes and it was up to the Chief Cook to present something that the man had not already tasted. Thankfully his wife was quite helpful, the Goddess above thanks for that. " Executive Officer Sir, I do hope you find this offering to your liking. I am told you have not tried this yet, and a sailor laid down the tray just before said officer. " I present Sir, Cockatrice heart, (which tastes a bit like beef jerky) covered in sepa sask (a rather grimly named liquor, it translates to Soul Rot. It's composed from potatoes and the caraway plant) white wine sauce and a beef gravy. "

" Also, from the Spirits Tender, we have several bottles of vyklade trekis. That would be Snake's Breath for our guests." Several bottles were held by sailors attending to the table, while a few open ones were placed upon the table as well, alternatives to the red wine already present. " vyklade trekis is an ancient drink for us. From our early days, to the modern nights. The wine is a actually a type of rice wine with a venomous snake inside. The snake is left to steep in the rice wine for many months to let the poison dissolve in the wine. The ethanol makes the venom inactive so it is not dangerous, and snake wine supposedly has many health benefits. It has a slightly pink colour like a nice rose because of the snake blood in there. " The head chef smiled a bit. " Enjoy the food dear guests."

About a half hour later, during the course of which small talk has probably happened if the Tagmatine guests have not died...

" Gentlemen, and ladies. Dinner proper is served." Attendant sailors delivered a silver plate to each seated person about the table. The rolled up napkins and a fresh set of cutlery placed before them. Appetizer plates taken, as were previously used forks, knives, napkins etc. Each steak was sizable, still steaming. Sides included red potatoes, and a maize meal porridge that was slightly liquid and runny in form, made with milk, butter, cream and sugar. Bread rolls were dispensed in several baskets down the center of the table with bowls of butter cream beside each.

Syious had meant to thank the chefs and the Chief of the Kitchen but first had to swallow his remaining xiiva sauriv before the appetizer plate had been withdrawn. Dabbing at his lips a bit with the napkin, he made sure he was not adorned with any food matter before rising up, flute glass of vyklade trekis held up and towards his fellow officers as well as his Tagmatine guests. " To the future between our peoples. " An officer in service wear stepped up to the table, leaning into the Duke's ear nearest before departing rapidly away from the formal dining area. " I have been informed that we are just now entering the outskirts of the Siltrin Calussai territory and that they will be meeting us half-way, their diplomat shall be arriving via helicopter in just under two hours."

He took a slight drink, savoring the taste with a bit of a relaxed smile. It was an acquired taste he supposed but it was well worth it as he became familiar with it again, such delicacies werent normally on his palette. He didnt normally eat this fair, despite his status as a Duke, he ate quite normally. Preferring the staple foods and so forth." Once they are aboard, and proper greetings have been given, we shall set sail to the Batory Empire's holdings."

[Tagmatium]

When the plate was put in front of the Logothetes for Wider World Affairs, his first thought was that pot-boiled dormice would probably have been better. The chef said the weird balls on his plate were garlic-fried sharks’ eyes, and they looked about as appetising as it sounded. Makarios resisted the urge to prod one with his fork. It was often said that foreign nations would test foreigners by getting some of the most disgusting things that they could find and telling the naïve foreigner that it was a national dish. The barbarians would then hide their laughs as they proceeded to eat the item. Makarios wasn’t so sure that this was the case, but he half believed. At least he wasn’t Zoilos. Spiders’ legs sounded even worse. The Molaghos-Kentarkhes and the priest seemed to have got off lightly. Being a petty, spiteful man honed by years of working within the paranoid and backstabbing atmosphere of a Tagmatine logothesion, he would find some way of making that up to them later.

Still, the presentation was exquisite and it was a good insight into the Takhisian homeland. A lot can be learned from a culture from its food, although it would have taken a more scholarly person than Makarios to do so. As it was, most of it looked to him like off-cuts and waste. Items that more civilised people would have thrown away, not served up to honoured guests. The worg was impressively presented and it appeared to be some sort of canine. Makarios didn’t bat an eyelid at this. Dogs were well known as food within Europa, although within the Greater Holy Empire they weren’t held as such. He’d never had dog himself and had wanted to try it. Just now he had to battle through fucking sharks’ eyes to try it.

“These spiders’ legs are certainly delicious,” said the Logothetes for War. “How were they prepared, if I may ask? May I try some of the worg? It definitely looks excellent. The presentation is fantastic.”

Oh, you’re on the list now, too, thought Makarios. He wasn’t going to be shown up by some oik from the Logothesion for War. He jabbed his fork into one of the sharks’ eyes and cut it neatly down the middle with his knife before eating half of it, trying not to remember that it was a shark’s eye. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as he feared it might be. Perhaps a touch too much garlic for his own liking, but there was no accounting for foreign tastes.

“Is there any particular shark this dish is made from?” asked Makarios, interested despite himself. The Takhisians were putting on a fairly impressive show of their homeland’s dishes. The cockatrice’s heart seemed… impressive. Makarios thought the animal was entirely made up. Mythological, rather. Wasn’t it some weird hybrid of a dragon and a cockerel? It was apparently served in a mixture of white wine sauce and beef gravy, which struck the Tagmatine as tastes that would clash a lot. But, then, he reflected that he was amongst barbaroi, so they could hardly be judged for getting things wrong. Give him oenegarum and retsina any day, rather than such a combination of flavours.

The snake-containing wine was certainly a change to the wines that the Tagmatine palate was used to. It definitely wasn’t unpleasant, though. Rice wasn’t usually grown in the Greater Holy Empire, although there were areas in the south that did possess paddy fields and rice wine was considered something of a provincial drink from those areas. The addition of a snake definitely made it a novel drink. Again, Makarios was surprised by the stops the Takhisians were pulling out for this meeting. First of all, the impressive arrival of the airships, which would undoubtedly remain a talking topic in the Greater Holy Empire for years to come, and then the vast array of foods that they were providing to their guests. They were definitely trying to make a mark and demonstrating the image of what a Takhisian meant to be to the rest of the world.

The chef invited them to enjoy the food and, to his own surprise, Makarios found that he was. It was definitely foreign and he was picking items he recognised (or, at least, couldn’t identify) more than otherwise, but it was an experience that he wouldn’t have missed. It was undoubtedly helped along by a few glasses of the Takhisian red and the snake-rice-wine. The main course of the meal was brought in with some ceremony. Presumably it was because the ancestors of the Takhisians were used to hardships and unfamiliar with having meals at proper times, thought Makarios. However, the meal itself was palatable and, after the varying array of appetisers, fairly plain. The steak was presumably beef, although to look at it one couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was another one of these worgs that seemed to plague Takhisian lands. In the Greater Holy Empire, lamb and mutton would have taken the place of the worg. It was certainly a ubiquitous animal when it came to meals within Tagmatium.

As the chief diplomat, Makarios realised that it was probably his place to say something. He stood up and waited for silence. Tapping a glass with an item of cutlery struck him as very crude, so he waited until the rest of the Tagmatine delegation and the Takhisian officers noticed him. The logothetes returned the toast of the Takhisian Lord of Hosts.

“I must thank the Lord of Hosts for kindly allowing us on his vessel. I know the term ‘honoured sirs’ seems to be thrown around a lot in our alliance, but I feel that it is truly applicable after this display of hospitality.” Makarios gave a half bow towards Syious. “I am honoured to have partaken of such delightful dishes from across your culture. I feel I can foresee many years of our great nations working together, especially as our compatriots are fighting shoulder-to-shoulder to free the island of Karthay from such pernicious enemies.”

Makarios sat back down after his small speech. He looked forward to meeting the representatives from Siltrin Calussai. Another first for this very interesting voyage.

[The Order of Takhisis]

One of the officers that was amongst the retinue of those at the table stood and after the speech by, he believed the man to be the representative for the Tagmatine foreign services, with a title that was somewhat difficult to pronounce, though he attempted such. " The Logothetes for Wider World Affairs, on behalf of the diplomatic presence from The Holy Empire, do honor us so My Lord. " He acknowledged the guests. " Pardon, I am Nix Havar, my rank is that of Jhoraelal. Which would equal in the Tagmatine Navy, Lieutenant."

He offered a pleasant smile soon after before. " If you would indulge me so guests of honor, My Lord. Such a meal deserves a send off worthy of it's note. As in the days of olden." He placed his hands behind at the small of his back, a slight arch to such, and then a heavy melody began to come forth from between lips;

gul, tonn, empty.
mitne batobot tepohaic zulf ve,
svanoa tiliw vucoti batobot wux ornla loreat?

veitrelg tenamalo, hesi danthe thaczil.
zyak tonn ihk udoka ekess imagine batobot coi ui|ulph okh, vur ti vi wurunwa.
zezhuanth thaczil, native okarthel,
veitrelg, hesi birthland.

origato ui|ulph gethrisj; wer qumado di wer suaco ui itheikir ihk udoka.
wer vastness di wer svanti ui relgrir ekess udoka, vur wer breezy tides!

vinult ekess hesi opsolaic vur forefathers.
yth re eluitholel ekess wer covenant xurwka mrith wer boja.
jaka ehis shilta pok
hesi navy ui|ulph victorious march.

Half way through the song, other members of the Takhisian officer corps present rose and offered a nod to the Tagmatine guests, each adding their voice to the song being laid out by Jhoraelal Havar. It built into a resonating choir that seemed to echo about the dining space, carrying forth through the whole of the ship, or so it seemed. Syious arose and joined in, this was both national pride, as well as pride in their navy.

persvek wer seasons di tairais,
yth report hesi vivexi ekess wux, hesi vargachic persvek wer svant.
vur ekess wer heritage zulf ini wux ihk udoka

sail shafaer fearlessly,
pride di wer myvillionkan svanti.
charis di wer ithquentiv, wux re wer burst di eluithol di wer xiekivi.

After the song, the young man named Havar offered another polite tilt of head to the guests and then a salute to his superiors. " Thank you for the dinner. Please excuse me, I have third shift upon the bridge." Syious nodded and spoke. " Ride the skies as a gentlemen should, you are dismissed. Those of you who have duties this evening, you may go. Irral iejir DeSoto. You may go, I will escort our guests back this night."

As sailors one by one arose from the table, leaving but Syious, Frel, and the ship's Jhoraelal Tystalaes (Lt. Commander), and ship head doctor, Jev'Ah Dravik. " Gentlemen.." And he included the guards in such, Syious slowly arose and approached a small end table nestled securely against the far bulkhead wall. " A proper gentlemen enjoys such a meal with a fine smoke. Indulge me? If you've your own, do feel free, if not, perhaps try some of the provisional tobacco." He said as procuring a smaller box from within the end table. It's lid propped open and a row of cigars on display. They were of a dark brown, almost black hue. A pair of cigar cutters settled next to the box as he set it upon the table, coming from his spot at the head of the table to sit across from the entourage of Tagmatines, in order to be civil.

Frel and Jev'ah joined, unbuttoning their jackets as they did so. Universal sign of informalness. " Do forgive our younger officers, your the first foreigner they've seen that has occupied them for generations." Frel spoke up then. " They are eager to display their honor, their..strength I suppose. The will of the young." A few grins surfaced at that as Jev'ah introduced himself. " Also, do forgive, I've been a bit busy with some of the new crewmates and their air sickness. I am Doktor Dravik. If you are having any issues with the air sickness and so forth, please do visit me in the infirmary, that aside, it is quite nice to make your acquaintance." He paused a bit.

" If you dont mind me asking, how familiar are you with our next guests, the Calussai? I'm afraid I dont have much on them, save they are rather law and order orientated." His question was open to any that wished to answer it as he plucked one of the cigars up, clipping the butt properly and then drawing a match against a strip of metal sitting in an ornamental wood dish of sorts. A slow inhale, and then after a moment, as he leaned back, a lengthy exhale of bluish-grey smoke. The fragrance was dark, smoky, sweet tobacco scent. Very masculine, but not as heavy and cloying as some tobacco fragrances can be.

Frel glanced at his pocket watch. " Their entourage should be arriving soon. We are twenty minutes from the mark My Lord, Honored Guests. " He then relaxed a bit, twenty minutes to greeting them was one thing, then there was another bit of time to their actual arrival. He slowly cracked his neck with gentle side to side motions of his head and then began to rise. Buttoning up his jacket as it were, and politely excused himself. " I will signal My Lord when they are proper aboard. " Then he headed out the door, while Syious had a bit of a mirthful look upon face. " So stiff somedays..honestly that man needs to relax a little bit, ah well..it is as it is."

" Oh right before I forget, you.." He directed at the Logothetes for War. " The method of cooking the legs is an old wives recipe. The spiders are first mixed with sugar, salt and crushed garlic. They are then deep fried in oil till the legs become stiff and all the body organs and parts stop running. After that, the legs are simply removed from the body and then served as is." He smiled a bit, enjoying his cigar and a bit of wine. " The Chef would have loved to tell you in person but he's busy directing dinners for the third shift crews of the ship."

[Siltrin Calussai]

The Western Seas
Strange Conveyances

The helicopter carrier pushed through the waves of the sea, slightly bobbing now and then from the slightly less then perfect conditions. When it rains it pours was the old saying. Captain Levin stared through a pair of binoculars towards the marvel of engineering that was approaching. He could see them plainly enough, some sort of airship or another. He didnt really believe the briefing when it'd been given but here it was, and slowly approaching the diplomatic task force clearly enough. There were three, though the central vessel was by far the larger of the other two.

His own vessel was a HIA supplied Cay Kut amphibious transport/light carrier ship that carried the official name being ALC 011-A. Although he'd unofficially named it the Anne. Something that had been adopted by most of the crew, unless they were new anyways. Slight turn to the nearest deck officer.Go wake our passengers. Their transport has arrived. A nod given briskly from the Chief Petty Officer present who then disappeared through a hatch, off on his new found duty. Levin meanwhile kept his eye on the big guns hanging fairly close to his head, which made him somewhat nervous.

His escorts were also of HIA supply. Two 205 Ymekydun (Alligator) Class Corvettes, the YC-01 " Baton ", and YC-02 " Trench " respectively. Lastly was a frigate, the SCF-01 " Breaker ", an Olath Vlos (Dark Blood) Class LREF. The helicopter was however of another manufacturer, an ALH Sariya (Cloud) LCH-07A was the diplomatic helicopter of choice within the Kritarchy. Which was unfortunate seeing as there was this conflict going on with Rhydin and it's minions of the United Front Alliance.

The navy for the Kritarchy was fairly new, it had been mostly littoral before just recently. As with all things, a spate of piracy had happened and in order to keep in good tidings with other members of the League, the House of Lords had convened and decided that the navy needed a bit more teeth to go with it's bark. Along with most of the newly formed navy, it's enlisted and officers were all apart of the Siltrin Angrimich Jedarkic (SAJ). The self defense force of the Kritarchy. It was they who served the Judicial Branch as well, so members of SAJ were often teamed with Judges in order to preserve law and order within the cities and the lands surrounding.

A message came up from one of the communication wall mounts on the ship. Sir, the diplomats and their escorts are boarding the transport. They have asked for clearance, and it is valid as per Judicial Branch clearance code four. Levin nodded to himself and then replied, while pressing the button on the right hand side of the speaker. Permission granted, May Order be Theirs.

The helicopter lifted up and off of the deck of the Anne, wheels retracting into the belly and nose area as the Sariya LCH-07A arose with a quickness not associated with most luxury transports and headed through the monsoon like rain and heavy wind, towards the largest of the Takhisian vanguard fleet. The co-pilot transferred a vocal security code to the aircraft traffic controller aboard the Takhisian flagship and recieved a counter-code as sign of validation. A nod of helmeted head towards the pilot who adjusted his feet upon pedals and moved the stick in the direction to go. There was a slight fly by of the landing area before pulling down and around. Landing gear extended out and as judging the distance between antenna and what not, began descent. There was a slightly odd feeling as passing through the magnetic barrier that surrounded the massive vessel. Once down, he breathed a sigh of relief and turned about slightly. Mi'lord, we've landed. Stating the obvious but protocol demanded he let the senior member of the House of Lords know.

Lithu nodded towards the pilot, then towards the two members of the Special Judicial Branch present. He couldnt see their faces, but he knew they were eyeing him as much as they were this new surrounding. They wore wore helmets that had an opaque shield that covered most of their faces, save the lower part of mouth and chin. This was covered by a vocal distorter and breathing apparatus. The suit worn was meant for urban combat, with rigging and harness visible. Boots thumped against the metal deck as the first one exited the helicopter, followed by Lithu and then the other Judge. As his escorts deferred to the right, Lithu under the rain and so forth stepped forward. He wore a one piece suit that while fashionable, was of a dark grey in hue and rather simple in it's arrangement. Thank you for letting us aboard your magnificent vessel, Tystalaes Frel is it? Lithu beamed somewhat, he was rather keen on learning about his counter-parts.

[The Order of Takhisis]

The Calussai
Disciples of Law and Order

Much like he had waited on the Tagmatine diplomatic party, Executive Officer, Frel Daist stood at the ready once more. He would probably do this several times, bearing the weight of the Takhisian Holy Empire, and it's nobility. These guests were noticeably different then the Tagmatine delegation however. The escorts for one to the man who greeted him, peculiar and evidently not all the information on the Calussai was available.

His slightly southern hinterlands accent had a bit of a twinge to it. " It is with warm tidings we greet you Lord Everhate, as I mentioned to the Tagmatine delegation that arrived before you, it would be best if your aerocraft arose soon. So close to the magnetic coils, it could be quite dangerous for it to remain to long." He paused a moment, and then took a step backwards and to the side. " If you allow it, I will escort you to the dining hall, our other guests are present there enjoying themselves a bit with our Lordship, Duke De'Wyren."

Once within, the hatch would close though the sailors would bring up the rear. Frel would lead the way down the passage, making sure the way was clear, and then down several ladders, and then a short ride on an elevator to reach the dining hall. Within were the Tagmatine diplomats, and their guard. Frel stepped inwards and then out of the way as he saluted those within to be polite and as it was protcol. " My lord, Honored Sirs, I present the delegation of Lord Everhate and his bodyguards, representing The Kritarchy of Siltrin Calussai."

" Also my lord, we will be heading towards the Batorys territories after a brief personnel transfer from the Destroyer Ariakan. It's our fighter pilot wing rotation. Once it's completed we will make best speed towards our next destination with an arrival in nine hours time." Syious nodded and slowly gestured towards the seats present.

" Do please join us Lord Everhate, and your guardians as well if they so choose." A slight glance towards Frel. " You may go my friend, return to the bridge and do see that we arrive on time." Frel nodded and took his leave, and making sure the gaggle of sailors in the corridors about the dining hall were doing their duties.

[Tagmatium]

As the Takhisian Nix Havar spoke, Makarios realised that the Tagmatine delegation was being done an honour, something rarely seen. He wondered if his own nation would have been quite so prepared to have done the same thing in return. Probably not he thought to himself a little guiltily. Takhisis was, after all, a significantly smaller nation than the Greater Holy Empire, and a heathen barbarian one to boot. The thought was pushed to the back of his mind and he listened to the song. At first, he was slightly embarrassed by the outburst, but once Makarios looked at the rapt attention on the faces of the bodyguard commander and Logothetes Zoilos, he sat back in his chair and tried to listen to the foreign words.

The Takhisian song was beautiful. Gibberish to the ears of the Tagmatine delegation, but nonetheless beautiful. They would like to have known what it meant in a language that they knew and Makarios made a mental note to ask what the song meant at a later date. It sounded like a martial song and it would probably be a lot more meaningful to the Molaghos-Kentarkhes than himself or the other logothetes. The rest of the Takhisian officers joined in the song, which was certainly impressive, although it did increase the sense of embarrassment that Makarios had. He doubted that Tagmatine officers would act in a similar manner, especially around foreigners. Still, each to one’s own – Makarios was culturally sensitive enough to know that sometimes one couldn’t hold one’s own standards to those from other nations.

Once the officers had finished the song, those with other duties or of lesser standing were dismissed to carry out their own tasks. The Takhisian commander invited the Tagmatines to join him in a post-prandial smoke – it was indeed considered a gentlemanly thing to do within at least the aristocratic families of the Greater Holy Empire, whether from the courtly, bureaucratic or military families. New men, those who had gained their positions due to ability rather than social or familial connections were becoming much more common in the Greater Holy Empire under Kommodos III. Makarios himself was a member of an ancient bureaucratic family, who had served Holy Emperors in an administrative capacity for at least seven centuries. He did not smoke habitually himself, but it would have been considered rude in most circles within Tagmatium to turn down a cigar or cigarette so offered.

He accepted an offered cigar, as did the bodyguard commander and Zoilos.

“I would imagine most young members of any armed forces are keen to show their valour and strength towards any foreigners that they meet,” Makarios said to Frel after pausing to savour the taste of the cigar. It was certainly different to the varieties available in the Greater Holy Empire. Perhaps this could be the basis of some trade... He wished that they’d got a representative from that Logothesion with them. Oh, well. Perhaps that was something which must be dealt with another day. “Those of our armed forces are probably doing the same on Karthay as they battle with the perfidious UFA.”

As Dravik spoke about treating the air sickness of the younger members of the crew of the air ship, the Logothetes for Wider World Affairs noticed a meaningful glance shared by both the Molaghos-Kentarkhes and Logothetes Zoilos. They had obviously both noticed his earlier bouts of nausea, something Makarios hoped others had not noticed. He sighed inwardly to himself.

“I may have to take you up on your offer of treating air-sickness, Doktor. I am not particular fond of air travel, as it tends to make me feel unwell.” He would have rather not mentioned it, however. It might damage the nobility and honour of the logothetes in the eyes of the Takhisians. Another mark against Zoilos…

“The Greater Holy Empire has had no real contact with the Calussai,” said Makarios. “I have read reports on Siltrin Calussai, but these have been from our intelligence agency, rather than through any diplomatic contacts. I imagine we’re probably in the same boat when it comes to knowledge of them.” Or airship, thought the Logothetes, although he realised that it was a terrible pun and kept it to himself. “In the interests of cooperation between our nations, I have been authorised to share what little information we have about the nations you are to stop at on this tour with you. We have a closer relationship with some than others, and anything which helps the League work together is viewed by the Imperial Government as step in the right direction.”

The recipe and method of cooking for the spiders’ legs sounded absolutely foul. Garlic fried sharks eyes were such a better alternative to the spiders’ legs. Running body parts and organs… It made Markarios feel slightly off-colour just listening to it. He took another drag of his cigar and breathed out, adding to the small cloud of smoke that was beginning to form above the dining table. Slowly, due to the fact that Makarios was feeling slightly tipsy, it occurred to him that they were smoking on an airship. That induced a moment of panic, before he remembered that it wasn’t a hydrogen ship. And that they used to have special smoking lounges on those, anyway. These lounges had airlocks to prevent any chance of a spark travelling back into the main body and causing an explosion.

[Siltrin Calussai]

On steel wings

The man in the one piece suit offered a slight bow, right arm at the waist as he did so to that of the esteemed Lord of Host, and commander of the vessel that he stood upon. If he did recall, the man was also something quite a bit more. The consort to the Empress of the Takhisian people, and that while nobility, had been amongst the first to be considered renegades by the former occupiers up until the Independence War. Quite the legacy really, and here he was, stilling so comfortably, nonchalantly in fact, smoking a cigar. It was almost surreal to a degree.

His bodyguards settled into seats, though they did not remove their helms nor engaged in what might be perceived as small talk. That was Lithu's department after all. Said individual slowly settled, so that he could see not only the Duke, but that of the Tagmatine representatives. Pardon if I do get this wrong, but you are..Logothetes Makarios. Pointing towards the one who had small talk with another. The Doktor is Jev'ah Dravik, also the Jhoraelal Tystalaes, a significant rank. You are Logothetes Zoilos. He said gesturing towards the other official. Your bodyguards however I am not informed of, two of three I suppose is alright though.

Trump card he supposed. Those at the table had little to no idea of whom the Kritarchy was, or even how it functioned. Well let them ask their questions, now was as good a time as any, though it would seem information was their trade more then some. A slow, slightly flaring of fingers as he offered a dismissive of ill intent gesture towards those present as settling into the seat. Let there be no secrets amongst us gentlemen. We are bringing order to the world after all, there is no cause greater then such.

A small silver case procured from within suit, slender cigarette of tan hue plucked free and placed between lips ever so carefully. Match struck, and then a soft, earthy like aroma spilled forth as Lithu enjoyed a bit of the Calussai traditional vice. This trip should be fantastic, there seems to be so many stops, it's like a build up to the eventuality of reaching the Takhisian lands, am I alone in thinking this?

[Tagmatium]

That the man from Siltrin Calussai knew that Makarios’ name and that he was a Logothetes from the Logothesion for Foreign Affairs didn’t surprise the Tagmatine. After all, a quick internet search could have furnished the foreigner with that information. That might have been exactly what the man had done, or it was a task delegated to some minor flunkey. Similarly, knowing that Zoilos was from the Logothesion for War was also easily common knowledge. However, Makarios knew a play for dominance when he saw one – after all, he had spent years within his own ministry playing similar games, undermining rivals and making himself look better. Some barbaroi wasn’t going to get the better of him in this game.

Despite his hostile thoughts, the Logothetes gave a polite nod and smile towards the delegate from Siltrin Calussai. The Imperial Government knew little about their nation in return, even with the Tagmatine Intelligence Network working hard to try to find out as much as they could. Even if a nation was an ally, the Greater Holy Empire didn’t see any reason not to spy on them. It was just a lot less aggressive. Tagmatium expected that its allies did the same – it was foolish not to. The Foreign Logothetes took another drag on his cigar as he mulled over that thought, although it was wise to keep it to himself, encase the Takhisians got the wrong end of the stick about the Greater Holy Empire’s willingness to spy on its own allies.

In order to foster the atmosphere of friendly cooperation, Makarios had stood when the new arrivals had entered the room, waving his hand in a motion only visible to the other Tagmatine delegates to stand as well. Again, it was a slight power-play. Standing meant that they were being met as equals, rather than potential inferiors by remaining seated. He did, however, sit first, without any sign of permission being sought from either the hosts or the new arrivals. Another power-play – sitting before an inferior suggested a more important position. It wasn’t aimed as an insult, but usual Tagmatine arrogance towards foreigners.

“Honoured sir, it does you credit to display such knowledge about those you are meeting,” said Makarios, his smile still held.

Arrogant foreign fucker was what he actually thought.

Of course this foreign savage wouldn’t know the name of the commander of the Tagmatine bodyguard. Makarios himself didn’t know, and wouldn’t until the officer decided that it was pertinent to do so – which was unlikely, considering the very secretive nature of the Imperial Household Guard. From the looks of the bodyguards of the new arrivals, the same attitude seemed to prevail as well - all shiny armour, closed helms and hidden identities. It was a fairly rudimentary attempt at intimidation, one seemingly done by the majority of the nations of the world. These foreign copies didn’t look quite as impressive as the Tagmatine versions, Makarios thought. The Tagmatine did acknowledge that he might well be biased, though.

“I myself agree with your summation of this trip,” the Logothetes continued. “We have been provided an interesting, and unprecedented, opportunity to see many nations of the world. I hate to think how much this excursion would cost if I was taking such a tour as a private individual.” He gave a slight grin to show that he was making a joke, just in case these foreigners thought he was being serious. “Even though all of our nations are allies, I suspect that we actually know little about each other. My nation has had some contact with the Batorys before, albeit I myself wasn’t there. Logothetes Zoilos was, though, at least on the second occasion. Before the UFA decided to drag us into the mess that is now taking place on Karthay.”

Zoilos had looked up when his name was spoken, but didn’t seem to want to add anything to what Makarios was saying to the representative from Siltrin Calussai. He seemingly went back to his current favourite pastime of being enthralled by the Takhisian ship, which was becoming increasingly annoying to Makarios. Just how long could the man be gobsmacked by this airship? That thought was shuffled aside and Makarios turned his attention back towards the newcomer.

“‘Kritarchy’ isn’t a national classification that is commonly heard, I must say. Of course, any nation can call themselves what they want, but it does seem that your nation has a… unique organisation. I would certainly be interested in hearing more about your nation, but I don’t think this is really the appropriate time to go into much detail about such things.”

Not that Makarios was truly interested. For a member of an organisation devoted to managing the interactions between one country and the rest of the world, his attitude wasn’t exactly stellar when it came to knowing about the rest of the world. He was more of a political animal, with a keen eye on the internal hierarchy, squabbles and how best to turn them to his own advantage. Still, Siltrin Callusai was different enough to spark off some curiosity within him. Indeed, the League itself contained a very varied grouping of nations, many of them completely different to Tagmatium and some of them, on the face of it, almost anathema.

“Has the Kritarchy had much in the way of dealings with other nations, or would this be the first time your nation has met with its allies?”

[The Batorys]

At the punishing turbulence, Varn did not so much as blink. Going anywhere by air this far north in the Empire was always like this, in the winter, and she was, in fact, from the Northwestern Provinces, the fjords of which the Takhisian air-flotilla had doubtlessly already passed over on their way here, the Plains of Sorrow, the dourly named gap in the mountain range that formed the eastern border of the Northwest Provinces, and the most prominent feature of the Imperial Province.

Even with the winds and snow picking up to what might soon be a blizzard, the glow of the still-near capital of Sarkanotthon was the most notable sight on the snow covered plateau. Given the stereotypes about her mistress' people, many foreign visitors were surprised at the new (or, relatively, at around 1500 years old) capital's brightness. Those who hadn't seen pictures of it before invariably did not expect the city to be built primarily in light colors, with the blue/green lit government and temple buildings themselves stark white. The largest of these, the palace, known as the Hearth, was a bright beacon in the approaching twilight.

At this height, the city's street plan became quite apparent, revealing to any observer that it had been built in the form of Ithtyr's pointed symbol inside a the circle formed by the city's outer boulevard, and beyond, the parkland where a grove surrounding the city was practically a forest, albeit one with very carefully managed edges, so that it, too, formed a perfect circle around the city. Oddly for an enormous city that had no walls, there was no sprawl, the line between urban and rural so clearly delineated as to give the appearance of having been inscribed by a god's hand. And what a monumental show of arrogance its construction had been. In what most called the sixth century, CE, at a time when there was so much chaos, the Batorys' newly declared Second Empire had embarked upon the construction of an enormous city... without any walls or defensive fortifications whatsoever. Some had laughed at the gesture, calling folly, but wiser witnesses had known it for the statement it was, had known it to be the Batorys' statement that they were so unconcerned by their neighbors that their new capital would need no walls, no trenches, no moats or pits... they had known the insult that such a gesture was to all other existent powers at the time, that the Batorys were confident that none could even come close enough for the new capital's lack of defenses to matter. Thinking on the audacity of it, the Adjunct smiled.

On the same plateau, but some distance away in the west, the old capital, Istengrad could be seen. Much older than Sarkanotthon, it was so many things the capital was not. Varn always found it odd looking on it from this height... the ancient city had not been built with any organized street plan, and its buildings, most notably the old Batory fortress, known as the Lair, were of dark colors, mainly built in stone. The city had, as far as most people thought, been there since before recorded history, its origins lost to time. Varn, privy to the secret histories, one of the few outside the Batory clan themselves to be so, knew better, that the city had started as an insignificant village, and was older than the general population assumed by a significant margin. Of course, little was left of that time, and it had certainly not had Istengrad's current high walls, themselves now ancient, nor was it anywhere near its current size, but it was a continuous settlement. Unlike the newer capital, it was not a beautiful city by any stretch of the imagination, except to various academics interested in such things as the ancient evolution of architectural styles, as the city had been built and partially rebuilt in fits and starts, never with a unified plans, and so now encompassed the building aesthetics of a dozen different eras, resulting in a truly bizarre and disjointed appearance.

Though, due to its familiarity, not nearly as strange as the constructions her helicopter now neared. She had heard some descriptions from the front, and seen a few pictures, but the gigantic Takhisian airships were something altogether different when seen in person. They were unlike anything she had seen before, and their very presence in the air was baffling. She had heard that her allies were incredibly secretive about the vessels' engineering sections, and Varn could see why. It only made sense that the Takhisians would be most protective of the secrets to the flight of the behemoths. Bristling with weapons, she guessed that the platform between the fore and aft bridges would be where she would embark. A thought struck her that the main gun turrets mounted on the undersides of the hulls likely saw more action than those mounted on the top. Or, at least they would unless enemies copied these uncanny warships. I certainly hope that never happens, the UFA already has enough of an advantage over us. She wondered at the thoughts of those people in the cities below, staring agape. Wonder, or hysteria, as a result? Or something between the two? Varn was confident in Sarkanotthonians and Istengraders not to panic. They were folk to whom shock did not come easily, after so long living in land from which the Batorys themselves had originated. Still, even at this height, Varn could see crowds assembling in the main thoroughfares to gawk at the foreign sky ships.
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Buffeted this way and that by the high winds, the comparatively tiny craft careened upwards at an alarming speed and trajectory towards the largest of the three dreadnoughts of the sky. At first appearing almost on a collision course, the helicopter, veering back and forth, in actuality overshot the Leviathan's launch deck. However, it appeared that this was the intention, as three stout ropes snaked down, weighted at the ends by travel bags as typical in many militaries.

A thin figure plummeted down one rope, apparently falling more than sliding, not slowing its descent until almost to the deck, at which point smoke came from the hands. The figure, revealed to be a woman in dark grey clothing with strikingly stark white hair despite a face that could be no older than forty, stepped lightly and nonchalantly onto the deck after stopping completely near the end of the rope. She tossed two unidentifiable but distinctly blackened and burnt items from her hands, apparently used in slowing her descent without injury. Small weapons could be seen at her belt, but she did not reach for them, despite clear alertness in her strangely dark eyes.

Following her was a second figure, this one a tall man with dark skin who descended more slowly, attired in dark blue clothing of what seemed to be a relatively formal cut, altered for combat use. More clearly heavily armed than his companion, he but cocked one eyebrow as he stepped from the rope. Like the woman, his clothing seemed oddly flat in some places, as if reinforced with solid plates of some kind, more apparent on his garb than on the first hyperborean's.

Finally, a second woman descended. Hair somewhere between blonde and brown, her eyes were an icy blue, reinforcing the frigid cold of her mien. She was unarmed but for what appeared to be a one handed axe at her hip, and adorned in what seemed to be a very plain military uniform, but trimmed with dark green instead of the usual dark red seen on Batory military attire. The garment was also, if anything, even more minimalist than even a private's garb. On the chest, was visible the emblem of the Adjunct to the Empress. Her chilly expression was calm as her escort detached the luggage from the ropes the small party had used to embark, one of them then signalling the helicopter to move further away.

To any Takhisians within listening distance, she spoke, clearly but without much more inflection than her sing-song accent gave her. No doubt, the higher ups aboard were quite aware of her presence. "If my words are understood by any, I believe our presence here is expected. I am Varn, Adjunct to Empress Vereba Batory, here by invitation. Also, I believe a Tagmatine, Zoilos is on board."

OOC: I would have written more about her at least saying something more upon landing, but I wasn't sure if any other characters were even in the area.

[The Order of Takhisis]

Arrivals & Departure

Frel stood upon the launch deck, before the three who had rappelled down ropes to be upon it as well. Apparently the information about the magnetic coils had spread. At least to one of their allied nations. He was an iconic presence, as ever a statue adorned in white, though there was a winter coat of fur belonging to an animal not known for this locale, though idly perhaps it should have been. " We do understand the common language, it would be rather uncivil of us to speak native when it's doubtful a guest understands, no? " His voice was gravelly, but clear. " As a diplomatic representative please keep your weapons in your staterooms, at least the big ones. They will likely just get in the way, your not on a pleasure yacht. "

A slight vibration in the deck, which would become larger soon enough. " This way, Adjunct Varn. Included escorts. " He made a hand gesture, a come hither sort of thing as he turned and headed towards a hatch on the far side of the launch deck. Sailors in similar gear were nearby, but only two weren't wearing masks. The kind needed for high altitude. The vibrations were getting more so, and the side mounted propellers that had not been spinning, were now doing so. The Leviathan was changing course, pushing it's bow against the clouds, the wind, and the upper sleet as the Northern weather came at them.

As the Batory helicopter slid away, the vanguard was already heading for maximum ceiling. That was where the air became thin, without a mask, deck work would be nearly impossible. Through the hatch they would go, and Frel would pause to slide the coat from about his shoulders. Within the confine of the inner hold, his uniform would be more apparent, it was of course military in origin and function. A wide lapel covered the chest, connecting to a series of clasps on the right hand side. The five headed dragon emblem upon his flat top officers cap at the brim was an ebony hue, matching the dragons upon the shoulder straps and at the left chest pocket, above a series of brightly colored tabs of ivory to indicate battles and what not. His trousers led down long legs into jackboots, a thin grey line nearly unseeable alongst the path of each leg on the outside.

As the hatch was sealed shut, the heavy valve like wheel turned until it locked, and now the Batory entourage was truly aboard. " Come on then honored guests, follow on. We've set aside some quarters, a stateroom near the Tagmatines and the recent arrival before you." He led them through a series of corridors, down some ladders and finally to an elevator. The young sailor operating the lift looked much younger then most, maybe sixteen. He wore the kind of kit that an airborne soldier would wear, and had eyes that had already seen battle. When the doors parted, Frel stepped through and eventually, and in short order, maybe five minutes from the lift, stood before a door that must have been the stateroom.

" Most of the guests have retired by now, but should be up soon. If the my lady, Adjunct Varn wishes however. She and fellow entourage may visit the bridge. Our Lord keeps late hours, and is present." The door to the stateroom opened up and inside were three beds, a wash basin, and a small table. There were two end tables and a port hole with an automatic shader to keep light from filtering past. Frel rocked on his feet a moment. " Three turns, and a raise of the lifts. I can feel it. We're heading out of Batory aerospace. "

He paused a moment. " It will be something you know, we inspire awe and terror with our arrival, but you really have not seen anything yet." Smirk formed a little. " The lift that you came from, tell the operate the bridge if you wish to visit. I do have other duties to attend, and again, welcome aboard the Leviathan."

[The Batorys]

An officer in white had responded to her query, and Varn led her small party over. At the suggestion of leaving their weapons in their quarters, she visibly raised her brows. "That request is highly irregular, but very well." The comment that it wasn't a pleasure yacht riled her inwardly somewhat; Varn could see quite well that it was a warship, and while it was the first aerial warship she had been aboard, the Adjunct had been on board too many of the more common aquatic type too many times to count. She did not let on her annoyance, however, not wanting to get the entire trip off to a bad start.

The male dragon's claw raised an eyebrow, apparently suspicious and skeptical. His female counterpart, however, her striking white hair now quite windswept, showed no visible reaction or concern, seemingly completely at ease. Perhaps she was confident in her abilities to the extent that the weapons, while helpful, were not strictly necessary to her deadly trade. Both carried themselves with a casual air of those who are completely comfortable in their own bodies, who have spent years perfecting the control of such, and so appeared unperturbed either by the setting nor the wind, snow and sleet gusting against them as the storm arrived.

Quickly enough, the small group was inside, where their apparent host was more visible as the vibrations of the ship evidenced its change of course. While some Batory military uniforms matched the Takhisian's in grand formality, it was somewhat a tradition in the position of Adjunct to wear much more minimalist garb, hence the contrast between his finely accented white and Varn's barely trimmed dark grey. As they rode the lift, the Adjunct listened. "Very good," she said in response to being informed of the staterooms that had been prepared near those of the League representatives already aboard. Though described as more verbose than her colleague, Adjunct Siras, Varn apparently was only talkative in comparative terms.

Upon their arrival at the stateroom, the Dragon's Claw entered first, with the Adjunct following. After setting down their luggage and taking a look around, Varn spoke. "I will visit the bridge... when doing business with the Empress as often as I do, one becomes used to late hours." At the officer's parting words, she responded "Awe among the citizenry, yes, but like my mistress, I am not easily shocked. Thank you, sir, for your welcome. The Leviathan is indeed an interesting vessel."

After he had departed, the Adjunct bade one of her escort remain behind at their quarters, while the other followed her back to the lift, and onwards to the bridge.

[Siltrin Calussai]

Chance Meeting

At the last second of the lift doors closing, an individual slipped within and into the embrace of the lift's interior. A slight bow of head towards the operator and then towards it's other occupants. It was none other than the that of Lord Lithu Everhate, the serpentine observer and diplomatic presence from the Calussai. He was as oil, the suit he wore contrasted visibly with slightly paled skin, though just tan enough to suggest he did see the outside on more than a dalliance. Ah, I do not believe us to have met, you are the Batory Empire representative. Varn I believe you are.

His eyes slid across the lone bodyguard, his movements were slick and his eyes were not of a humans for just the slightest of moments and then all was well again. And this must be a member of the Dragons claw. Impressive. He slowly took to a stand near the opposite corner of the lift.I see we shared an interest in meeting the Lord of this Vessel. Something I have already done, but, such wonders this craft. I desired to see more of it.

As the lift creaked upwards, there was that blue light that had so bathed the Tagmatines. It interested Lithu immediately, fascinated by all things that went into the making of such a vessel. However, his visit was for another reason all the same.I hear that we will be making a stop to pick up such a charming guest. The place where your Empress visits..visited perhaps. One of the Nevae Agar will be coming aboard. What a moment that shall be.

Lithu's voice had become quite cold, and those eyes were back to their serpentine like look for a moment. Then it was gone again, and the doors were opening.Ladies first.Gesturing towards the now open portal, as the Takhisian operator stood to one side.

Earlier in the evening.

Ah the Kritarchy, or at least it's form of government harkens to an age where religion and or other forms of interference weren't an issue. Where the need to survive outweighed the petty needs of icons and idols. Where law is the defining beacon, where order is cherished. Lithu paused a moment, enjoying his slender cigarette for a time before continuing. His eyes held a serpentine look in the irises a moment before they slid back, perhaps a trick of the light.It's not for everyone of course. The tenets of the Kritarchy, are that the law does not make mistakes. As those who accompanied me will say. The nation of Siltrin Calussai is ruled by judges. A high court, and a council composed of judges from the provinces. At the base level are street judges who enforce the law as needed. We take order, and law, very serious.

He let the smoke slowly curl from his mouth a moment, and then slowly settled into his seat.My government is looking towards deploying ground troops, probably specialized ones into the Karthian conflict. In an effort to show how much the Calussai want to be apart of the League's endeavors. That this meeting go well also, is also of concern.

He paused again, taking the time to stub out his cigarette within the ashtray so provided.It will not be easy, word is that there will be quite the eccentric group of individuals aboard, one or two perhaps that we, do not sit well with. I suppose we shall have to..whats the phrase..play nice with.

[Tagmatium]

“Petty needs of icons and idols…”

Was that foreign twerp insulting the Greater Holy Empire? Makarios thought for a moment. He doubted that the representative from the Kritarchy was, but all barbarians were blunt and uncultured, without any real ability to see that their words could be regarded from different angles… no, perhaps that exactly what the duplicitous little bastard was doing. Trying to goad the Foreign Affairs Logothete into saying something foolish…? Thus Makarios’ mind whirred away, trying to find something within Lithu’s words for a moment. The paranoid ramblings of his mind were entirely disguised by the solemn nod that he gave at the representative of the Kritarchy’s explanation of his nation’s government. The Tagmatine took a slow drag of his cigar and breathed out a plume of smoke towards the ceiling, his eyes following the billowing blue smoke as it dissipated into the general atmosphere of the room. It was getting very smoky in here.

“It sounds like your system of government has been able to work for you most eminently,” said Makarios, looking back towards Lithu. “It is always surprising, the variety of governments, methodologies and even ideologies in the world. Both the Greater Holy Empire and the Empire of the Bathorys are empires, according to the titles our and their monarchs bear, but that is almost entirely where any similarities end. It is speaks of the ability of us as civilised people that we and they, and yourselves, find ourselves preparing for talks.”

Using the word “civilised” loosely, thought Makarios. From what this barbaros was saying, he hoped he would never visit the Kritarchy. It sounded like a nightmarish police state, ruled by an inflexible judicial system, not at all like God’s chosen nation on earth, the Greater Holy Empire. Typical of the savages that made up the world, ruling through brute strength. That Tagmatium did have a secret police force entirely slipped Makarios’ mind.

“The Imperial Government will certainly be pleased to hear that the Kritarchy is planning on sending forces to the Karthaian conflict.” Makarios looked surprised for a moment, before he realised that Zoilos had stopped gawping at the Takhisian airship and had actually interjected something into the conversation.

“As far as I’m aware, the situation on that island still hangs in the balance. The UFA are bringing in more reinforcements almost all the time,” continued the Logothetes for War. “The Greater Holy Empire itself has been mobilising its forces for a while and is preparing to dispatch a fleet that will, hopefully, land more ground troops in preparation for sending the perfidious forces of the UFA back into the sea.”

That would definitely be good news for the other League participants in that conflict. At the moment, the Greater Holy Empire could almost be accused of neglecting their allies, having sent only a relatively small force of lightly equipped paratroopers, whilst other nations had masses of ground troops, armour, artillery and warships in and off Karthay. Not forgetting, of course, the vast floating battleships of Takhisis that hung above that abused island.

“From what I was last told, the UFA is also portraying us as the aggressors in the propaganda that they are producing,” Zoilos mentioned with a shake of his head. “Boggles the mind, that does. It demonstrates the depths that they will sink, twisting the truth like that.”

Once he had finished, Zoilos went back to looking around at the airship. Makarios raised an eyebrow slightly at that. Even though Zoilos undoubtedly harboured strong opinions about the UFA after going through the events in the diplomatic meeting that started the conflict, he still was fascinated by the airship. The other Tagmatine shrugged slightly to himself and studied the glowing end of his cigar. One thing that always put Makarios off smoking cigars regularly was that they seemed to take ages to actually smoke and always left his mouth tasting pretty bad afterwards. He put the cigar down in one of the nearby ashtrays and retrieved a small shred of tobacco that had been clinging to his tongue.

“Diplomacy between allies is always about playing nice, even if you don’t feel like playing nice,” said Makarios. “Representatives from the Greater Holy Empire have met with those from the Batorys before, and they are a pragmatic people. I doubt there will be much trouble. I cannot say anything about the other country, however.”

[The Batorys]

Regarding the slender man who had gotten onto the lift seconds before it began its journey, Varn at first simply nodded acknowledgment at Lord Everhate's being correct in identifying her as the Adjunct. "That is so, I am indeed the Adjunct, Varn." She contemplated him for a moment. He was almost as pale as her moroii masters, but his appearance suggested that unlike them, he could possibly tan if he got a bit more sun. Also unlike the Batory clan's members, his was not an aura of vitality. Well educated, beyond a doubt, was this Lord Everhate, a man whose visage she had encountered in the endless research that went into an Adjunct's work, and a man who apparently knew enough about the Empire to be able to know of the organization of assassins that, among other duties, provided bodyguards for the Empress and others among the Empire's most high ranking.

At being identified as such, the as of yet unnamed woman with white hair simply raised her eyebrow. Her manner was casual, though it was an alert, coiled sort of casualness. Not amazonian in stature, but certainly a bit taller than average, her frame was lanky. Attractive enough, aside from the odd white hair, and the way she seemed to look at everyone as if coolly regarding a target.

Varn considered Everhate's further comments. The man's eyes were... odd... a strange otherness had come over them briefly. "Yes, despite the hour, I felt I should greet our host. My mistress insists on propriety, you see." This much was true, Empress Vereba was quite a stickler for manners. Despite all that had been shocking about the ruler of the Empire when Varn had come to her service, and there had certainly been a great deal that was shocking, the older woman had never been anything short of polite. "It is a fascinating craft... the first I've ever seen of the like." She thought for a moment, then added "The first anyone in the Empire besides the Euxine Vipers and the battle fleet at Karthay has seen." Mentally, she considered that there were some areas of the vessel forbidden from the Takhisians' guests. While she would have preferred to be able to see everything, her hosts' restriction was quite sensible. A nation would be foolish to give away the secrets of this technology.

At first unsure of what the Calussai meant when he changed topics to refer to a passenger as of yet not aboard, it suddenly occurred to the Adjunct that Everhate was in fact speaking of the Xukuth. As was her habit, she considered his words for quite a long time before offering any statement of her own, though she eventually did speak. "I assume you are referring to the Xukuth. I admit to curiosity as to the meaning of the term you used to refer to them. I am aware that your country and theirs have had a somewhat less than pleasant relationship. Perhaps the idea of being allies with them is something for which your people have mixed feelings." Varn paused for a long moment, regathering her thoughts. "It should be noted that the Empress, for whom I speak, suffers quite a bit of criticism from the religious order that, while retired, she remains technically a part of, for allying with the Haru, who are, in her religion, most egregious blasphemers, criminals of the highest order. Perchance you wonder if she has lost her faith. She has not, and shares in the belief that for her alliance with the Haru, she will be sorely punished in the afterlife. And yet, she has not changed her position."

Before the Adjunct left the lift, she turned to Lord Everhate. "My mistress, although saved by Xukuthites, has no wish to take a side in your two countries' disagreements. She stands between you, and the comfort of that position, is dependent upon you and they."

[Siltrin Calussai]

Oh, I dont think there shall be anything more then the usual game of who can play deception the best. It is after all, the game, the ever present, ever demanding game that holds the attention of the Nevae Agar, as it does us. He followed out of the lift, onto the bridge and for a moment allowed his mind to wander. This was technology that did not exist within the Kritarchy. The night sky pouring in through the plate glass above and to the sides, the vertical and tiered bridge that spanned levels he'd like to think.

As to the Haru, well, that is a bed your Empress has made herself. We are all apart of one another now though, bearing the League's banner as we are. Though I am loathe to admit such, the differences of the past must be worked through, even with the Nevae Agar. Lithu meandered away then, moving like a shadow amongst men, though staying well in view. It wasnt long until a trumping of footfalls signalled a new arrival, that being a member of the Judicial bodyguard that had accompanied the Lord Everhate. One of two, the solemn black uniform, harness, kevlar, and of course the opaque helm.

Lithu eventually came to rest at one of the great windows. Noting the armored shutters that could be applied if need be. He could feel the bodyguard and overwatch source come behind.You need not worry, I kept my word and our honor. Order and Law will prevail in our meetings ahead. A slow nod from the Judicial squad member.

He spoke towards Varn, confident the woman would hear him, even from this distance of a few meters.The lift to your right will take you to our host. He gestured towards a small lift, it would go up about four levels to the bridge above, of which was open. It was all rather fantastical when he thought about, hell when he looked upon it, he couldnt believe they were actually flying.

[Finium]

On Demons and Butterflies

The Finains were dark, not in color, but in essence. They came in threes, as tradition dictated. One from each major portion of his majesty's government. An Imperial Minister, a provincial governor, and a member of his own family

The first was a tall man, almost fragile in appearance. He was adorned with nothing but a black robe with a similar sash, denoting his office of Imperial minister. He looked childish, porcelain skin unblemished by the progress of time, not because Finians show no age, but because emotion had never peered out on his rigid face. The merest of shadows settled between his black brows where, on rare occasions, he had seen fit to grace the world with his disapproval. His face was the unalterable mask of impassivity that his race found so desirable.

The second was the opposite in stature, short and notably robust. This was one of the southern barons if his gold ring was to be trusted, the twisting image stamped on its face named his ancestors as those of the great province of Chan. The barons of Finium were not of immediate relation to the throne, rather they outdated any Imperial force. Not the landed nobility, but the outright monopolists of their respective provinces, he dressed the part in a dark suit with seemingly blacker tie. He was graying and the marks of his station had not passed him by like his centralized counterpart.

The final member was a gem nestled comfortably between the marbly minister and the coarser governor. Here was the Princess of Hallsind, daughter to his imperial majesty and the final authority in all things diplomatic. She shied away from the extremes of her compatriots and found a medium for her tender age of twenty-three. Her heritage was unquestionable, the fiery orange-yellow eyes that marked the royal house peered out from under arched brows. She wore the black of her nation, but under the dark coat peeked the red shirt of her station. She could not be called shapely, or by any means singularly beautiful, but her authority was graceful and she held those around her in awe by her flashing eyes.

Finians are not flyers as a race, leaving their dominion in the skies to subjugated races, but they are truly impassive. So despite their cultural phobia and deep admiration of the Tahkisians for their remarkable work, they arrived only deterred in their hearts. The Finian craft was slow and lumbersome, it was the only way to keep their stomachs in check. When the double bladed craft settled clumsily on the proffered platform, the delegation disembarked, staring starkly ahead lest their great height be seen.

Madeline spoke for the group, the other two bowing at the waist respectfully to the officer awaiting them.

"Deus est Magna," She said as her companions straightened, "Greetings to you, I am Madeline Astracies of the Imperial House house of the Inexorable Empire. With me stand Imperial Minister Lucius Yan and Governor Oedipus Brandenburg of the Imperial Province of Chan. I bring greetings from his Imperial Majesty, Emperor Astracies, may God bless our work."

The wind swayed them and the good governor turned green, and let out the drawling accent of his province. "Now that the formality is cleared away, might we move somewhere out of the wind? The good book says that the demons of the sky are the consorts of Lucifer himself and I down fancy meeting one out here." He said half jokingly, while minister Yan looked suspiciously around him as if to spot the offending spirits. The Finian Air vessel kicked up another breeze as it shuddered away from the platform and began its lazy descent. The governor turned green as the flutter of so many insects rushed though him again and the minister moved his lipless mouth and surprisingly formed words, "Yes, I think we might benefit from it."

[The Order of Takhisis]

Visitors of Stone

The officer to greet the Finium entourage was not Frel. He was on the bridge managing the escort services and so on. They were also still doing some crew rotations during the landing of the new delegation force. Thats why the three ships were much closer then they might have been otherwise. A faint clicking of boot heels together as the Captain snapped a salute. The two sailors behind him copying such a swift motion that it might have happened in unison. " If you will follow me ambassador, I will lead you to the staterooms that shall hold you and your entourage."

He turned about, and headed across the open flight deck to a hatch that swung open exposing the innards of the airship. The two sailors waited until the entourage of three would follow and then came up behind. They bore no weapons, just light blue crew uniforms with boots that clung to the metal more then they should have. Magnets embedded in the soles kept the sailors riveted to the deck, so that they werent swept aside in heavy weather.

As the door would close behind the three and the two following, the interior would become more pronounced. The lighting was provided by thin light bulbs attached to the ceiling at the sides. The scene was of hustle however, even as sailors moved out of the way, the Captain, a young man named Nevik. He had a few combat ribbons, and some burn marks at the nape of neck that just barely peeked out past his uniform. He never removed his gloves because of the condition his hands were in.

They went down several ladders and then a trip in the lift. A bit of a glance to those following before he came to a stop after a few twist and turns. " We've a stateroom for Her majesty and then one for the gentlemen." He continued after a moment. " Our Lord of Host is on the bridge, and if you wish, you are welcome to go there. Some of the other delegates are in the Officer dining hall or down the hall as well." He indicated with a point of his arm as he stood at the ready for the wishes of such as the guests before him. A pause as something happened, not much of an indication but there it was. " Oh, if your uncomfortable flying, do take hold of the handles alongst the wall. We're about to have a banking turn."

He'd felt it through the deck plates, what was coming was a complete turn off of the right wing propellers and then a sudden powering of them on plus the venting nozzles as the dreadnaught began it's banking turn to head out of Finium aerospace. Their next destination was to be that of Osea-Yuktobania for a pickup of their delegation. "Ah and dinner will be at 7 o'clock. A sailor will alert you. Just a reminder."