Sweet Invasions (Closed)

[The Ctan]

The Police Office in the City of Cobrook

The West Plains of the Feywild

The Hour of Elossë the Sorceror

The mid afternoon sky was slightly cloudy skies and with moderate winds.The city was built around a central bridge on a river. It was surrounded by a gate made of stone, and the locals seemed to be meandering through the Pavillion outside, which was decorated with many flowers and hanging gardens with marble mosaic floors. It had an open courtyard, where a treefolk artist was painting desperately attempting to catch a patron’s attentions as the wealthy man passed her, heading between the colonnades. There was a niche in the wall which broke to High Town where corbelled arches seemed to introduce the different districts. The rich buildings were made of stone and had domes in the style of a Forntian Design, but it had also latticework of the northern elves and unique obelisks which seemed to be designed with beautiful stone carvings which contained many symbols of the faith and the culture of the local area. The City itself had many sluices and reservoirs which seemed to be running the water from the nearby river to the western side of the city. The Police office was made of a type of plaster, and adobe which was built upward with red tiles. There was no written sign, but a symbol of a gold star. The officers outside were wearing precious little protection, and they seemed to be tired and standing outside because the air conditioning inside had failed. The men and women in the shadow were remarking on the above average temperatures, and simply walked past the officers as they took the water from the sluice and dredged it upwards from their fingertips, the capillary action assisting in the cooling and refreshing sustenance. The non-treefolk men were suffering far more as they could not drink the sluice water without getting poisoned so instead resorted to drenching themselves and seeking for a bottled water stand.

“ICE COLD WATER! ICE COLD WATER HERE! ONLY ONE GIL!” The woman said as she seemed to be unfussed by the dry heat. She stood over by the stand, the perfume of a desert rose emitting from her smooth skin. She wore precious little as well, and her slender body was enough to catch the attentions of other treefolk. She was a lovely flowerfolk, and seemed to be willing to negotiate even lower prices to those who seemed to be in deeper danger of heat exhaustion.

An image appeared in the air, almost like a mirage in the heat, of a necron in a mantle of green with a tail wrapped around his legs, carrying a bladed staff in one hand, “I am the Herald of the Phaeron Imotekh, Master of the Sautekh Dynasty, to relay his most kind and indulgent words to those of the territory of High Treefolk with the wit to hear,” he began in Sylvan. “Due to the discovery and confirmation of widespread slave-holding activity in the nation of High Treefolk by the native administration, recognition of that nation as a lawful authority has been withdrawn by the C’tan Senate. Subsequent to this, the C’tan Senate has issued a writ of annexation for this territory and all persons currently resident in it. You henceforth have the honour to be subjects of the Great Civilization of the C’tan.”

“Errr… nice prank. So, what brings you to the city of Cobrook? Can I help you?” One of the Hylian officers said with a bow of his head in greeting and a smile.

“You are hereby directed to either place yourselves under the authority of C’tani officials and officers, or disband your force immediately. Failure to comply may result in your being classified as a slaver-supporting armed force, subject to military engagement and with the attendant penalties for any actions henceforth taken.”

“I’m sorry, did you just have the audacity to call ME a slaver? What are you yabbering about.” The Hylian said with a subtle accent on his ‘j’ sounds, which sounded a bit more like a ‘y’. “I escaped Ealdurimite slavery with my life narrowly and have earned my freedom and I won’t be forcibly made anyone’s subject! I am a free man!”

The image vanished, apparently it had been a recording, and not apparently, someone the unfortunate young hylian had the chance to actually talk to about these claims. In the office an ivy commanding officer was frowning as Tadir was speaking in a fast and uncomfortable pace.

“And then it said, if we resist they will consider us to be slaver supporters. My wife Orla and I have already received enough from the hells of the North, I am asking for a resignation. I am DONE!” The Hylian said with his brown hair frazzled from the stress. “I CANNOT hope to fight those things, I am not stupid but I can’t, I just can’t. I have a son on the way. I can’t give him a happy life without a father.”

“You won’t be able to feed him you dumb bastard. Do you think you will find employment with such a sudden resignation and a job gap once you start heading out to work? You should just calm down. I’ll give you a break. Hear that? Time for you to spend with your pretty wife. So, have you names picked out yet?” The Commanding officer said attempting to calm the poor distressed Hylian.

“I have a few, one is for a girl, I was thinking of calling her Leria, and also for a boy, Tammen, but you are changing the subject. I can’t stay on. I won’t.” The Hylian said as he laid his arm and badge on the table. “If you’re making me quit so be it.” He said as the Ivy Treefolk sighed, his tressels of vines being brushed over his sharp pointed ear.

“So be it. I’m sorry Tadir. If you need a reference, I can at least offer some words, so take my card with you.” He said as he offered the card and the Hylian hesitantly took it and walked out before he decided his mind was changed.

The Office was tense as many of them were hyperaware there was no way that they could stand up to the C’tan. They conducted an in-house vote, and there was a split three ways. One was to surrender as soon as the C’tani arrive, the others was a suicidal death charge and the other was of course to flee at the last moment, hoping the others would support them, but there was little belief that victory was possible.

“So, we’ve 4/4/5 split in this squad then?” One of the sergeants said with a sickened expression. “Looks like we will have to defend the town, then. When the C’tan arrive, surrender immediately. We are no match for them.” He said as he directed the guard to increase their presence and attempted to bolster their numbers by requesting help from Sylandral, but Cobrook was not the only town to request help and aid. The inherent fear was beginning. They had no idea what slaveholding was occurring as slavery was most certainly illegal.

The phone on the desk rang, which was probably remarkable, as it consisted of some rather complicated ID-spoofing chincinary, and it would have rung already in other circumstances.

“District 20 in Cobrook, Officer Eruis Speaking.” The ivyfolk said as he seemed to have a strangely androgynous voice, it was like a woman’s but was very deep. “How can I help you?” He said surprised that the line was working at all.

“Greetings, this is Satari, of the C’tan Empire, we trust you’ve received our message?”

“I owe you a very angry message, you’ve made four of my prized officers resign, and in a high crime area. I should be telling you to piss off, but I suspect that might ruin our warm and precious relationship, so let’s cut to the chase, you desire to overrun the guard? This would be terrible, and you’ve already undermined our precious won authority so, thanks again. What the hell is this slavery bit, though? If you’re aware of slavery in the Treefolk, please let us know so that we might apprehend the suspect and bring him or her in for questioning. We DO accept informants.”

“It is the judgement of ourselves, and the Elenári of Menelmacar, and the Allanean President, that the debt structure in High Treefolk constitutes a form of slavery, due to the intergenerational inheritance of debt, and the punishment using torture administered by the courts for failure to pay,” she said.

“We don’t generally institute such things , we let that be handled by the organizations in question. We merely try, and do what we can, to reduce violent and non-violent crime. We’re not a debt collection agency. Look, I understand where you’re coming from, but the way this works is out of my hands. Intergenerational Prosperity and Debt are something that is generally something handled by individuals and banks, so if you want to wipe us out, we’re going to have one hell of a time preventing crime and doing our job. I know you aren’t trying to do that, because C’tani are supposed to be reasonable. Right?”

“We’re not trying to wipe you out, no, but we require you to support us, rather than the previous native leaders, I would say government, but government implies legitimacy. Preventing violent crime is of course, something we support, and we will help you do that, and of course, I expect wiping out the debt of the population will help you do that...” she said.

“I do not have that control, Sirrah! I am not charge of the banks or debt collecting agencies. If you want our help then for what reason do you declare that we must disarm and that non-compliance shall result in our termination in a likely gruesome manner and so forth?”

“Most likely if you resist, you will be captured alive and imprisoned, but naturally then you would not be able to gain employment for some time,” she said, knowing how to push Treefolk buttons.

“But we have no mind to resist, we have mind to act as enforcement of law and order, have I been unclear? The majority of my men have agreed by popular vote that we would defend the town, and then we will submit, but what will become of us?”

“Then you will be integrated into the regional pay-scale for law enforcement, and given new equipment and training,” she said.

“Regional pay scale? What are you talking about?” The ivyfolk asked with confusion. “But, you will give us new equipment? Truly?” He asked tempted for a moment.

“The regional pay scale for law enforcement officers is the payment rate currently paid to Altean Guardsmen who have completed qualification, and is approximately thirteen thousand gil per annum for a constable,” she said, “As for new equipment, you’ll find this telephone works at least, but yes, you will.”

“Hmmm, your offers intrigue me, shall I perhaps put this offer before my kinsmen, or is this particularly for me?” The gentleman asked as he raised his eyebrow, his dark green eyes turning even darker.

“Please do, I’m here to reassure you, and your kinsmen, too,” she said.

“Well you’ve made a few of my officers quit, because they figure you’re going to come to our lands and behead them for slavery. This does set a bad prospect for their future, as well as their employment opportunities. Given that these are sensitive times for our people.” The ivy folk said as he took a deep breath. “Okay then, this is treason, but I am willing to work with you.”

“If I could talk to them, perhaps I could put their minds at ease?” she asked.

“They’ve pissed off and ran, gods know I bet they’re trying to hide out away from the cities, thinking you’ll have more trouble slaughtering people out in the rural areas. This doesn’t mean I can’t call them, however. I can send you their number if you need to reach them personally, but comfort at the moment is a bit difficult for any of us. We’re talking massive treason, and opposing our own government.”

“Yes, we understand the difficulty, but it will be better than you can imagine,” she said, “and yes, their numbers would be helpful,” she added.

“I will send them to you by text, do you have a number I may send it to?” The Ivyfolk asked curiously.

The voice seemed a little embarrassed, “Do you have a pen?” she asked.

“Yes, just a moment…” The ivyfolk said as he seemed to be less concerned with the fact that he had not knowledge.

“00 518 518 288 110 694... I’ll make sure you don’t pay.”

“Thank you, I’ll send the numbers to you right away.” He said as he typed them, and then sent them. “There, did you get them?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said, “It’s been a pleasure,” she added.

“Likewise, pleasure doing treason with you.” The Ivyfolk said playfully as he hung up his phone and took a deep breath. As he did the poor beleagured Hylian was at his home quickly packing his wife’s clothes.

“Tadir, what are you doing. You say we have to leave, and to head to the East, but you do not say why. Talk to me, you always talk with me.” The woman said worriedly as she stroked his hair from behind.

“Orla, we must leave, and that is that. The Greater Prussians are going to slaughter this area, and I am not going to have my family be caught in the crossfire.”

“Tadir.” She gasped as her wide blue eyes betrayed a bit of fear. “I can’t travel like this.”

The phone rang, moments after the number was given, before, in fact, the ivyfolk had put his desk phone down.

“H-Hello?” The Hylian asked as he seemed to be shaken. “Who is this?”

“Hello, this is C’tani Officer,” she said, in the gentlest tone possible.

“OH GOD! I DON’T WANT TO! PLEASE! LEAVE ME ALONE!” The Hylian cried immediately startling his wife.

“What’s wrong?” She asked with her eyes blinking in surprise. She was pulling her long blonde hair back into a bun as he seemed to scream in terror.

“Look, I won’t do anything, just don’t kill me! I complied! I won’t… I’m not a slaver! I am not!”

“I’m not here to kill you,” she said, “Not that even I could do so through a phone, I’m just here to talk to you and ask if you have any questions that I could perhaps help you answer...”

“HAIL C’TAN! I SHALL SUBMIT!” He shouted as his wife seemed to pat him on the shoulder.

“Let me speak with them.” She said as she gently removed the phone from his non resisting hands. “H-Hello? This is the wife of Officer Tadir, I am not sure if you are the Prussians he has spoken of?”

“No, I am a C’tani, my name is Satari, hello.”

“Oh, Hello there! I am Orla, and my husband is Tadir. He is-was an officer in the local department. He says that the Greater Prussians intend to slay our people and remove the police and treat them as enemies in war. He has quit, as he cannot endure as a prisoner of war.”

“That’s fine, he won’t be a prisoner of war, or harmed in any way, but I wanted to see if I could help explain to him, as I am to many others, that we’re not actually out to hurt people, and we’d like him to keep his job if possible.”

“He says that if he retains his arm, he will be slain, at least, this is what he said he was informed. He may have been mistaken, I can talk to him, but I would like to know the truth of the matter. What is going on? He says there will be a hostile invasion and that the police and the army will be executed for slavery.”

“Not executed, no, but if they resist, we will fight them. We’ve decided that your country’s policies toward the poor, yourselves included no doubt,” she said, “constitute a form of slavery, and are going to invade to put an end to them, we don’t want to hurt anyone we don’t have to.”

“But we have no real choice in this world, it is just one thing or another. At least in this place we have enough to put food on the table, I don’t know what kind of future exists for us. What will we do? He cannot return to work, because he fears they will all die or be killed, and then if he doesn’t go back, he fears we will starve instead. So we thought to go east, but we cannot make the long trip… for health reasons.”

“No one will starve, but if I may ask, if you are not so keen to fight us, why not join us? There will be little danger in that.”

“That would be treason, and thus a fate that will ensure execution for him. He has no desire to die, thus he is very scared as you can easily hear.” She said as her husband was seated and shaking with fear.

“We will win, and there is no treason in breaking promises given to slavers,” she said.

“We have come from Ealdurim so we do not feel this is as comforting as you may have meant it to be. Though, any comfort will surely make Tadir better in time, I will see if I can get him to return, but he is rather frayed in nerves at the moment. Crime prevention as is, can be very difficult for him. Takes its toll, and he doesn’t get paid very much for it, but it is a job Hylians often take as we are much more powerful in force than some of the treefolk.”

“If it helps, we are going to increase the pay, and negate all debts currently standing to the banks.”

“It would help our family, for certain, but I imagine the fear will be something Tadir may have trouble with. He’s also come home a bit sick. The Air Conditioning has been broken at his office for three months now. So he sometimes comes home ill, so I will see if I can call his boss, and give him a sick leave, possibly. He might end up missing paternity leave, but such is how it must be.”

“May I speak to him?” she asked.

“Surely, but he’s a bit afraid, so if he snaps a bit, I hope this doesn’t give you a false impression. He’s a rather brave man given what he’s already done.” The woman said as she passed the phone to her husband. “They wish to speak to you, be calm and speak.”

“H-Hello?” His voice was tense, but much calmer. “This is Officer Tadir, of District 20 Police department.”

“Hello, I’m Satari, of the C’tani Fleet, I heard you’d quit your job?” she said mildly.

“I have, perhaps because I like living.” The Hylian said regaining his sense of calm. “There is absolutely no way that we will be able to oppose you, I’m not going to go against the inevitable. If you demand our submission, I submit for my family’s sake. I have too many doubts I will live long committing any sort of treason because I am Hylian and this would generally stand out more than say, a normal bushfolk.”

“We intend to win,” she said “If we do, would you like a job, as a policeman? Thirteen thousand gil a year.”

“T-Thirteen thousand? Are you kidding me? Surely you are making a big joke of me” He said as his ‘j’ sounded like a ‘y’ sound, giving it the impression that he had said yoke.

“I assure you I’m not,” she said, “Is that a lot?”

“More than I could ever hope to get in a year. I am not generally able to imagine that I’d even end up with half of that.” The Hylian said with a slightly shocked expression, as his wife seemed to be curious. “And you shall not kill us all, no backdoor traitor things? I… I must know you will be forthcoming. I wish you to speak an oath.”

“That’s rather difficult, as I don’t believe in the supremacy of any gods, but I can certainly give my word of honour.”

“An Oath need not be made on the Goddess’s names, because that would be blasphemy, but rather on your own courage, strength, and wisdom. Should you fail to uphold this oath, you will be stricken in your greatest powers, and same with myself. I wish to know what will happen when the surrender inevitably occurs.”

“Unless you take up arms against us, you will be able to continue as you have, but you will be paid much more,” she said, “this I swear.”

“I also swear by all Gods and Goddesses that I will not raise an arm against those of the Great Civilization, and should I do so, may I be struck dead and be born feeble in the next life.” He said with seriousness and his solemnity extending to his wife who bowed her head.

“Thank you,” she said, “I’ll let you relax; be assured that all will be well...” she added.

Fort Dennix in the City of Sylandral

The Eastern Feywild

The Hour of The White Cleric

The early morn was new as the sun was making its daily climb to the apex of the sky, not quite having reached its peak. The wind was blustering almost as loud as the local gossip. In the Gathering the Bureaucrats were arguing as the treefolk in the military complex were building up the materials they would need for an invasion. They were not excited, and they seemed to be uncomfortable with the idea of having to fight the C’tan and seemed to think this was perhaps a bit unexpected. Of course they had no idea what context slavery was being used as a pretense for War, but they had not been ignorant or blind to the madness that existed in the outside world. The Warriors of the Treefolk were a sort of semi-class among the treefolk, as the Civilized noble Gentlemen and Ladies among the aristocratic class considered fighting to be plebeian and beneath them. The result was that those who fought for the life of the Treefolk would be the poor and disadvantaged. Their sad stories were often kept in the context of ‘their mother went into prostitution to attempt to pay for their debts and died of sickness’ leaving them little recourse for employment.

This didn’t seem to break some of them among their number, as they saw the military units and squads as a sort of strange family, with the Squad Captains acting as the father and helping each one of their sons to get through the trials that would lie before them. This also meant that they would feel the loss of their comrades much more intimately, as the loss of one of them was a loss of a brother or sister. It was hard to imagine that they would fall so easily, but they were not taught to think of losing. They were not allowed to think of loss. The Upper crust of the Aristocracy would call them forth to die for countrymen and High Treefolk, but they desired to live for one another. This would be hard for any of them to stomach.

“Meriya, do you think the eggheads will eventually relent and negotiate with the C’tan? I mean, I am aware they are reasonable folk at least it is something known abroad.” One of the soldiers said at breakfast to another squadmate, a beautiful flowerfolk.

“I don’t know Dorman, it seems like they will not even entertain the idea of negotiation, but it’s not our jobs to question what our national leaders command of us. It’s just our duty to do as we are commanded. Do you think we will die quickly?” Meriya seemed to be under no illusions that they would be able to hold them off long.

“I am not sure, they have guns so hot that they can melt steel, so it’s likely, yes. Quick…” Dorman said with a shudder.

“Sa, we’re supposed to meet up with Commander Rayder in an hour.” Dorman said with a smile. “Let’s not take too long.”

The pair quickly finished their meal which was absorbed through long tendrils in their fingers that draped down and then swooped upwards.

The pair headed outside to stand among one of the Commanders and they pounded their fists into their chest. “Sir!” They said in unison.

“At ease,” He said as he attempted to look over his orders for a moment and he looked down at the others among their number as they gathered before him. “Doubtless the news has reached every one of you, but we are facing an imminent invasion by the Necrontyr Empire of the C’tan, and we are shorthanded in crucial vulnerable areas around the Country, so you are to be dispersed among the security-lapsed areas, and to defend critical areas of infrastructure, and once the attack begins we are to attempt to Force the C’tani into a stalemate to attempt to give the eggheads a chance and time to negotiate a peace with the Greater Prussians and the Necrontyr Empire.”

“Impossible.” The voice came from every radio at once, an infiltration of digital systems far more impressive than phone system tricks, enough to exploit local systems and silently activate microphones.

“Excuse me?” The officer spoke into the radio and seemed to consider for a moment that someone was playing a prank. “Speak your name and your rank this instance. That’s an order!”

“Satari. Fleet Admiral. Tomb Ship. Cairn-Class, if that helps.”

“A C’tani then. Have you decided to Mock the Greenwood Army?” The Officer shouted angrily.

“Give me a moment,” she said, “let me show you why this is impossible.”

The Greenwood squad was afraid but their commanding officer spoke in a clear voice.

“Do not fear! We will protect our country!” He shouted with a frown.

There was a flash of green light, and a cylindrical metal object about three feet high appeared with a sharp clap-sound, silver and with rows of lights on the side, that seemed to be flashing, and a large screen showing a countdown 03... 02... on one side of it, about ten feet away from the officer.

The squad reacted as they were trained to a potential detonation of an explosive device as they scrambled away from the metal object and attempted to take cover as quickly as they could.

The item exploded with a loud bang, showering confetti over a wide area, like some kind of party toy, and a small pole shot up out of it, unfolding a flag labelled ‘BANG.’ One of the treefolk laughed nervously as he was showered by confetti and he looked over at the Commanding officer and became more stoic.

“You DO intend to Mock the Greenwood army, then.” The treefolk man said with a cross expression in his tone of voice. “So, what do you want? Do you expect us to bend the knee to foreign sovereigns?”

“You understand, that could have been a bomb of any power I wanted? We don’t want to kill you if we don’t have to, but if you make it necessary, we will,” she said, again from all of the radios, “The leaders of your nation are not being honest with you, and they do not treat you well. You do not owe them your lives.”

“If you come in you will kill us. All invaders do, that is the nature of invasions. You are entreating people with lies and deception. We do not practice slavery, and I’m sure the Gathering would discuss it openly but they will not do so at gunpoint. We will fight and die as we must, it is our job.” He said with a wavering sound in his voice.

“Tell me, how many of you took that job because you could not pay your bills otherwise?”

There was a pregnant pause as one of the Privates spoke. “Why does this matter? It’s a way to get money and respect. To get a chance to climb in prestige. It’s a chance as good as any, but we are not able to question what the will of the Gathering is especially when they expect you are out for blood. Slavery is a serious charge, Ser.”

“And how many of you were born in the certain knowledge you would forever be repaying some loan shark called a bank?”

“That is not my fault, nor is it my country’s fault. That was my great grandfather’s fault for taking a loan. It’s not something I can help.” The same young private said as a few of them bowed their heads.

“It is not. Respectable nations do not have inherited debt. They have something called freedom. You were born to be exploited as surely as a serf in the north. It is just that your master wears spats instead of a coronet.”

“But they do not command the armies, they have their own armies, the Country is not...” One of the privates stammered.

“So you’re going to murder men and women because of inherited debt?” The Commanding officer asked not in a surprised expression, but rather in an exasperated sense of resignation.

“If we must. But we’d rather not. Which is why we’re giving you the chance to join us, instead of opposing us. We will liberate your people from this regime of oppression, but whether or not you defend it against us is what will decide what happens to you.”

“And you expect me to believe you will trust ones who betray their country and countrymen?” The Officer asked surprisedly.

“Those who chose their country and countrymen over foolishness. We have ceased to recognize your country even as a thing that exists, the only country here now is the Great Civilization.”

“So now we are unpeople. You are truly the worst sort of people.” He said with a sigh. “I meant to ask how you could trust us if we were able to betray our country and countrymen? That would mark us as traitors never to be trusted. We swore an oath to uphold our country, so you want us to accept being marked for life as the highest shame upon our country’s name?”

“You have some stiff competition there,” she said, “You are not unpeople, you are people who do not deserve to die fighting for those who exploit you.”

“I agree, but you are getting us to choose something that leaves us between a rock and a hard place. This is treason.” He said quite directly.

“Your leaders have not been equitable to you, you owe them no allegiance, no matter what oaths you have sworn. They are those who would enslave your children, and your children’s children, for their own wealth. You owe it to your people to be rid of them.”

“Very well, I accept your premise, so what will you demand of us? Unconditional surrender?” The Officer asked as he suspected there would likely be punishment for them regardless. It was merely choosing between who would execute you and with what.

“We want your unit to arrest the Gathering. You may work for us now, and will be added to the payroll, shortly, if you accept. There will be no punishment or internment for you.”

“Payroll? Just what are you offering us?” The Officer asked blankly.

“We should discuss it later; it would not do to be seen as mercenaries. But it is substantially better than you are getting now, no doubt.”

“Very well, I will attempt to see if we can at least order the others to stand down. If we do not fight for your people, we can at least ensure that the Greenwood Army does not resist.” The Officer said with a frown.

“Let us know,” she said, going silent for a time to let them get on with it. There was a sense of panic to follow as many soldiers didn’t know what to do with regards to this new offer. They would have an opportunity to struggle and die to protect their countrymen and die a warrior’s death, only to be shamed when the C’tani seized control, or to shame their country by turning coat and becoming opportunistic traitors. This was a moral and ethical decision that they would rather they had never to make.

Those who decided to surrender to the C’tan did not go to fight with the C’tani, and instead went home, to wait for the oncoming hell to flood over their reputation once and for all. The few that had chosen to help the necrons were the most ambitious, but they still felt they had made the morally wrong decision, caring not for petty morals instead wanting to take a chance to live in a better life. There were some things more important than self-respect.

The C’tani waited for some time, repeating much the same things simultaneously far across the nation, even on the northern border, where they regarded security as paramount, the Greenwood Army was however, the site chosen by the C’tani to land their own forces; and after about half an hour, an object appeared by the same mechanism the ‘joke’ had earlier, this one a massive pyramid of metal, worked in white and black plastic-like trim, from its side, the first necrons stepped out.

Those who had chosen to aid the necrons awaited, keeping their courage as they had not really ever seen necrons outside of the television before, and they were much, much taller than they imagined. The treefolk themselves were by no means tiny, but they surely were not expecting the necrons to be as enormous as they were. They kept their weapons on hand and waited to be approached and hesitantly stepped back instinctively upon their approach.

“Who is in command here?” one of the green-cloaked necrons asked, emerald eyes looking at the group before him, automatic subsystems matriculating them and appending them numbers.

“I am, and I hope this isn’t some sort of trick.” The Lieutenant said with a sickening feeling in his gut. His equipment was rather pathetic compared to the necron’s but he seemed to be unique in that he had some more protective gear than the others.

“What’s your name?” the necron asked, waving for his fellows to move past them toward the gate.

“My name is Eylis.” He said with a raised eyebrow as there was a shudder of the branches around his hair. “But names don’t really matter don’t they? The more you know about me won’t really help me shoot things better.”

“You’re not shooting anything, there’s not enough of you,” the necron said, “You will guide us and then return here.”

“Very well, where shall we guide you to?” The lieutenant asked as the other treefolk followed him carefully.

“The Gathering of Glause, I believe it is called?”

“The Gathering’s HQ is about three blocks from here, but on the upper crust. Well need to climb upwards. Can you fly?” The Treefolk asked.

“I cannot, but we have comrades who can. Can you?”

“Sure, no problem, but we’d need to merge on the upper crust, it’s up there on the platform in the center.” The Treefolk said as he gestured with an open palm. “Below there is the slums, so youc could try and climb up.”

“An aerial approach seems more practical,” the necron said, “Come with me,” he said, stepping back toward the portal.

The Treefolk sprinted ahead, and for a moment a single root dropped to the ground and snapped into brambles as the treefolk disappeared and above on the upper platform, there was a burst of energy that shot upward, and a small branch was possessed by the treefolk, and he rematerialized on the upper crust. He looked around for the C’tani and attempted to see where they would arrive from, as his small squad followed along.

The necron stepped through the portal, disappearing from view, and reappearing with another squad a few moments later as one of their aircraft streaked down and teleported them into position, it was however, somewhat slower, for now at least. “Lead on,” the necron leader said, as the new squad, bulkier than the last, fanned out with surprising grace.

The Treefolk pointed at one of the high skyscrapers in the distance and ambled toward it as they kept their headway towards the building, but not without difficulty. The loyalists were approaching the group with a rage as they began to fire bolts of poison darts, but none of course affected the C’tani, but it seemed to strike at the treefolk, acting more like acid, as one of the company screamed in pain.

The necrons didn’t need any gesture or order to retaliate, instead opening fire immediately, they had predicted that the enemy would be poorly armoured by both their standards and the standards of most nations in the region, because of their probable durability and the low value likely to be placed on individual survival. What they’d just seen, where their allies had shifted between locations had confirmed that, and they imagined treefolk forces would minimise their equipment and maintain duplicate caches of such weapons .For this reason they had chosen to employ the lightning weapons used for engaging more numerous light infantry forces, the shots of their living lightning weapons sounding like a thunderstorm compressed to a brief volley of fire that branched in some cases from one target to strike another. They moved to shield, as much as possible, the allies bayonets gleaming in the dappled green light.

The Treefolk that were struck didn’t convulse, however they sparked up and it made them flail in shock from the branching flames as they struggled to put themselves out by smothering the flames out. The act of course made them less concentrated upon their foes, and they were attempting to rush aside to something wet that would put the flames out.

The necrons of course, pressed the attack, making a point in one case to shoot into a pool of water, the electrical weapon skittering across the surface lethally as the burning treefolk and their comrades entered it. They burst into flames shouting in shock as they felt the final skitters of electricity skirting over their form, leaving the burst bits of combusted tree bark upon the ground, and the broken and scattered foliage upon the ground. The smell was oddly pungent to the treefolk around the C’tani and they gagged as they pushed on attempting to avoid the smell of the slaughter.

“Over there, you see the building over there. We’ve got only a few more blocks left.” The lead Treefolk commander said as he pointed and followed ahead.

“Halt,” he said, looking at the slaughtered loyalists, as several of them advanced briefly and two others began to crouch and examine the wounded, snatching and casting away guns from those who resisted, they had no real baseline for comparison for some of the wounds, but detailed treatment data on Menelmacari ents and their Giltherani cousins existed, and they worked in general principles from that, applying pressure and sealant-compress gels, and in some cases bandages with golden threads on their edges. Naturally though their own, allied treefolk, were treated first.

“They can wait, briefly,” the necron leader announced.

“They can wait? Whom?” The Treefolk asked.

“Your leaders,” he said, helping one of his ‘men’ treat one of the survivors.

“They tried to kill us.” The treefolk gestured at the survivors. “Just be done with them. There is no reason to let them live.”

“They fought bravely,” he replied, looking at one of the loyalists as he pulled him from the water, wading within it, finding him quite dead, to all obvious inspection. “Take their weapons.”

“Yessir.” He said as he took their weapons and pointed it at the treefolk. “Shall I take care of them, then?”

“No. We move on, leave some of your men to guard them, medical evacuation is on the way.”

“Alright then, let’s move along then. Up ahead, and we’ll try and see if we can lock it in.” The treefolk said as he rushed ahead and there were still hostile treefolk up ahead.

The necrons didn’t wait, this time, any unit not defected was considered hostile, and they opened fire first, in the same pragmatic efficiency.

The Treefolk did not immediately expect to be fired upon so were taken down with ruthless efficiency. They were immediately burst upon with flames and screams of pain.

“Throw down your weapons and surrender!” one of the necrons called, not ceasing their fusilade.

“LEAVE AND SURRENDER!” The treefolk survivors cried as they fired poison and sprayed swamp matter which splattered and hardened over some of the approaching treefolk, locking them in place.

The necrons continued firing, and charged at the survivors, firing as they did so, aiming to stab and decapitate with the broad bayonet blades, as their leader lashed out with another weapon, an elaborate gauntlet that washed waves of green fire over those enemies before him.

The treefolk was decapitated with the strike with the nasty clatter of their head rolling upon the ground, and a squirm and convulsion from the stump as the sticky green blooded sap splattered out in a fountain of gore. The green flames ate away at the treefolk as they headed into the inner sanctum beyond the atrium of the building.

The C’tani threw grenades that burst into flaying fields ahead of them as they advanced past the atrium, more squads of necrons approaching from different directions.

The C’tani were easily rushing through the poorly armored treefolk and the Treefolk guides were heading toward the elevator, and the treefolk hit the button and half of the team headed up the stairs, and as some of them rushed the stairs the others waited for the elevator to come with the really strange music playing pleasantly with bubblegum pop music, and one of the many monitored screens showing a beautiful childlike girl who was singing a love song in Sylvan in a child-like voice.

“Get up the stairs,” one of the necrons said, with irritation, tossing a grenade in the general direction of the lift as it arrived. The treefolk headed up the stairs as the lift had managed to open, releasing a few waves of bullets that turned into a noxious gas before the treefolk loyalist guards were overcome by the grenade, expecting to drop on the C’tani by surprise, but instead were delivered to the netherworld in a blast of fire and splintered steel. The splintered wood and sap splattered upon the television that was still dissonantly singing cheerfully.

“That is why you don’t use the lift,” the necron said, waving the treefolk with her past.

The C’tani aligned treefolk headed up the stairs and waited at the top for the C’tani as they secured the stair. One of the women treefolk soldiers, an Alraune, waved for the C’tani to approach. “Floor 4-D… we’re here.” She whispered as she expected a terrible swathe of mercenaries ahead, thus did not immediately open the door.

A huge necron, with an elaborate golden crest, escorted by a group carrying melee weapons and various other tools, and oddly, a group of green robed humans, arrived, waving for the humans to stay out of the way, he, thought it was impossible to know with necrons, approached the door, pausing for a moment. Probing, sensing the room beyond.

There were about thirty five persons ahead, and the Council Room was still filled with Treefolk Politicians. They were guarded by about five guards each, with the mercenaries guarding the hallway.

The necron waved for two of the guards to step closer to the door, and they chopped its hinges off in one smooth motion, causing it to fall inward when he pushed it in the middle at the same moment. The Mercenaries hammered quickly with fire and attempted to lay as much bullets as they could muster, emptying their magazines as they rolled over grenades and attempted to lay as much punishment as they could at the open door as they could sparing no device, and waiting until all the ordnance they had was gone, exploded, or empty before they would surrender.

The necron, along with several others, closest to the door, was destroyed, as was a sizeable portion of wall, and floor, the debris scattered across the remainder of the room as more stepped into the doorway. There was more explosives and a bit of scattered shrapnel bombs which were released by the doorway and the group of Treefolk Mercenaries seemed to be surprised at how quickly their plan was working. Of course they did not expect to honestly win very easily, but anything alive could certainly die, thus they figured if you lay enough violence explosives and bullets into something it would eventually be blown to bits regardless of how solid it looked.

The necrons continued to enter the room, some damaged, some of them falling, sparks of green lightning crackling from their wounds, as they staggered this way and that, as if waiting for orders. On the ground, the severed parts of the first necrons moved back toward one another, an arm crawling along on its own power while other parts ran as a liquid to meet their neighbors once more.

The treefolk looked horrified as they felt morale slipping, and they took this as a cue to continue to lie as much damage upon them and one of the mercenaries frantically communicated on the radio.

“They’re too much for us, you need to evacuate as quickly as you can. Get the rest of the clients out as quickly as you can.” The Mercenary said as he continued to oversee the devastation, but the Necrons would soon have the advantage when they were out of Ammunition and explosives. They were down to a few molotovs now without much else as recourse.

A drenched lychguard flamed and looked annoyed by the improvised weapon, which didn’t actually burn hot enough to harm it, ripping a tapestry from the wall and batting at the flames with it, before finally borrowing a glass of water that had miraculously survived and splashing its legs with it.

The Mercenaries expected no mercy, thus quickly began to rush at the Lychguard without any bullets, and with the only thing they had left, which was their bodies, and they whipped with their branches and limbs attempting to engage the Necron physically, which was unlikely to be successful.

This at least was something he necrons responded to, breaking limbs, fighting with the shafts of their bladed weapons rather than the edges, batting their opponents away, smacking them but clearly aiming to take them alive.

The necron leader rose from a crouching position, bladed staff appearing in its hand once more. The treefolk were broken and some battered and scattered backwards as there was a shout in terror as the fear had finally set in. There was no escape, and the Mercenaries looked at one another and it would seem that they had no more bullets. They did however, expect that the mercilessness of the outlanders was brutal enough that there would be nothing but cruelty to expect from surrendering. They thus flailed desperately, expecting, or hoping for a quick death.

“Who is in charge here?” the necron leader asked, as his soldiers continued to fight back the enemy, his words stilted Sylvan of a formal mode preserved in Altean libraries. The Commandant was surprised by the formality of his words, and he spoke with an equal level of formality as he looked over at the C’tani with surprise.

“It is I who leads my men.” The Commandant called out as he attempted to struggle against the C’tani, but allowed his men to get a chance to attempt to find a way to escape, perhaps a fire escape.

“Stand your men to and they may leave, you and your lieutenant shall remain.”

“Very well.” He said as he commanded the soldiers to stand down in treefolk vernacular and they seemed to be displeased with this solution, but at least a few were relieved they were going to get to live. The others felt ashamed at they would have to leave the Commandant to the C’tani.

“You shall tell me where the other clients are, and then you may leave. When I have the rulers in custody, I shall bid your lieutenant to leave also.”

“Using my love of my men against me. You are truly cruel outlanders.” The Mercenary Commandant said as he looked over at his Lieutenant. “Shall I then tell them, Laslir?” The Commandant asked his Lieutenant as Laslir looked over and took a deep breath.

“Forgive me, Commandant, but I desire to live.” The Lieutenant said as he looked over at the C’tani.

“The Clients have attempted to escape by the fire escape on the western side of the building. They are ahead of you, but once they make it to the ground, they will be able to spirit travel. If you can catch them, I recommend that you do.”

The necron didn’t move, staring into the distance as he communicated new orders, “You may leave. Laslir will be released when your story is proven true,” he said, looking at the politicians in front of him.

The ones who did not flee through the fire escape glared at the C’tani reproachfully but made no movements against them. The others of course did take the western fire escape as they attempted to reach ground so they would be able to possess another plant before they would be obliterated.

Outside the building, another squad of necrons took aim at the fire escape with the same lightning guns as earlier, their weapons crackling with white lightning as they began to approach.

The treefolk did not move as they were taking the likely bearings of how high up they were and how long it would take for them to flee down before it was safe to jump off the escape and survive long enough to soul shift. They did however realize it was still far too high up. To jump out would reduce them to splinters. There was thus an uneasy stalemate as no one moved.

“Throw your weapons down, and proceed back up or we will fire!” one of them called, pacing the gun against the side of the fire escape. The guards did not seem very pleased at the situation and they cast aside their weapons as they took cover of their charges and headed back up not sure which way to re-enter the building.

Another group of necrons waited at the exit they’d taken while the others, the necrons assumed, were likely to be solidly locked on an important government building. The entryway was clear and the Politicians were led back to their Council Room and their guards were of course covering their charges bodily. “Tell the men their good fortune,” the necron leader said to Laslir.

“You’re free to leave. You’re no longer bound to your charges. Those who want to live may flee now.” Laslir said as there were a few voices of dissent.

“Much sooner would I inhale poison, you traitor!” One of the Warriors shouted as he continued to protect the politician with his head held high.

The necron stepped forward, raising his blade in salute, before hacking at the warrior’s neck in a single motion like the upwelling of a river bursting its banks.

The warrior was slain viciously as the other politicians watched on with dispassion and the others seemed to be discouraged by the prospect of defending their charges. They were in it for money not honor. Thus, as their ambition was taken as a gamble they took their earnings and fled with their lives instead of being slain. There were a few other warriors which remained and refused to back down.

“You are brave, I salute you,” the necron leader said, “Kill them.”

The necron bodyguards seized them, pulling them bodily away from the politicians they defended. One of the politicians seemed deeply distraught and Ayliah Mercine seemed to be sickened by the slayings and turned away so that she wouldn’t have to watch. The flowerfolk councilwoman raised her hand and shouted.

“Enough! ENOUGH! Submit to them!” She said clearly.

The necron raised a hand, as the axe-like warscythe was poised to kill another of the treefolk mercenaries, “Do you submit?” he asked.

“No.” He said casting a defiant eye at the necron angrily. “Kill me.”

The leader gave a gesture, some manner of ritual sign, with two fingers extended upward, and the necron sliced the treefolk’s head off.

“Oh Gods! STOP! Please! That’s enough you have what you want. Please stop!” She called as the warrior was killed before her.

“Very well. The rest of you may live, even if that is too cruel. I regret sparing you the honour of death,” he said, “Go now.”

“NO!” One of the Treefolk angrily charged at the Necrons and the others in a rage.

The nearest guard was struck several times, holding back to aim the perfect blow to decapitate the treefolk cleanly, delivering it after a moment.

The others were forced to leave and they lowered their heads in utter shame of defeat. They envied the dead for a while as they expected what was to come, the days where they would live with disgrace for the rest of their lives.

“Return all allied forces to their bases,” the leader said, waving to the C’tan aligned treefolk outside the chamber. The treefolk nodded as he shouted commands and the Flowerfolk wailed, the feeling of the devastation before her wracking her every breath as one of the older politicians slapped her, attempting to silence her.

[The Ctan]

“Have pride goddamn it.” He said as he looked over the dead and bowed his head.

“They died honourably,” the necron leader said, “their service was better than you deserve.”

“Enough. You have got what you wanted, and there is nothing more to discuss.” Ayliah said as she motioned for the others to stand behind her. “You have seized the gathering, so you must have something you wish from us, or you would have merely blown up the building and killed us all. What do you want?”

“Bring in the Alteans. Bind them,” the necron said, picking out one of the Tree Folk’s chairs and sitting down. The Alteans entered, mages from the Eastern Kingdom with the ancient power of soul binding. The ability to bind a Treefolk’s soul into one form, leaving them essentially permanently trapped within their own bodies.

The Gathering kept their eyes focused on the Alteans as they began the rituals, the agonized expressions of the first bound treefolk making their anxiety grow as they awaited their turn. The first treefolk bound vomited upon the ground, and collapsed, exhausted from having been bound into his form. The younger treefolk Councilman rose to pick his contemporary out of a pool of his own vomit, and lie him on his side so that he could recover. The feeling however would not go away until they were unbound. He did not like his own prospects of being bound. The Alteans were merciless and did not wait for the treefolk to be mentally prepared, choosing who they would bind at random and grabbing them roughly for the ritual, the strain left the bound treefolk in a state of utter disorientation and some stumbled and slammed against the wall, their frame of references painfully limited.

“Perhaps Lord, we should slow this process down?” one of the necrons asked, in their own tongue.

“Fatalities are acceptable, ensure they are able to recover, they showed no such consideration for their victims I expect,” he switched to common, “Do not allow them to die,” he said, a different tune to the Alteans.

“We are doing our best, Ser.” The Altean mage said as the Flowerfolk was being bound and she shrieked in pain and anguish from the feeling of being bound. It felt like a large thing the size of a watermelon was being crushed into something in the space on the head of a pin. The horrible feeling rippled from every limb as she was then kicked aside and Ayliah was also bound. She attempted to keep a stoic expression like her Spymaster had, but it was nigh impossible, and she felt the strain crush her as she let out a horrified scream in pain.

The necrons knew of course, that there would probably be at least one here who had opposed the treatment of the poor, or wanted some manner of reform and had worked for it, and who had probably not been involved in the Eames Conspiracy. But watching, they felt certain most had, and so none moved to comfort or help the Gathering. There were two fatalities, and the others had narrowly managed to survive the binding and the Altean fervently apologized.

“We couldn’t anticipate the results. There are… some complications with doing it, and I’m sorry for the problem.” He said with a bow of his head.

“You managed to keep the numbers acceptable. You will not be punished. But you have still failed. Neither will you be rewarded. You will return to your transport,” the necron leader announced as several of his troops had started gathering the bodies of the various guards, reunited with their heads, and the two dead members of the gathering up and laying them with their arms crossed across their chests along one side of the room.

“You have bound us, what else do you want?” Ayliah asked weakly.

“Silence slaver, speak when spoken to,” one of the guards said, prodding her with the butt of his staff.

The Treefolk was hit and she felt far more than she was used to in a single body and steadied herself on the table. Feeling ever more nauseated.

The politicians were broken up in small groups of threes and fours, taken down the stairs - carried - and loaded into vehicles behind a security cordon inside the great building’s atrium, they were not allowed to visibly touch the floor, so that observing persons could not discern, or at least not confirm, what had been done to them as they were taken away. When it was Ayliah’s turn, she was hefted roughly in the mechanical grip of the necron, and carried downstairs roughly like one might a sack of root vegetables.

She was roughly yanked and dragged as she didn’t resist the grip and felt her body hoisted like a rag doll, and she let out a cry of surprise.

The space she was shoved into was divided up into segments by wire mesh, but otherwise strictly conventional, a jail-wagon of the type seen very frequently in Altea and other places, open air, and caged, with manacles, though the treefolk were spared those, given their recent experience, and simply deposited on the flat ground of the prison-transport. She tried to steady herself as she sat down and attempted to calm down as the flowerfolk beside her hugged her knees and just wept without ceasing.

The pair were given their own transport, locked behind them, which began to levitate up, under escort, turning away and heading out of the building toward some rendezvous point along the side of the great crater-like city.

“The end.. this is. Do you think it’ll be quick?” The flowerfolk asked Ayliah who was finally able to regain her composure.

“I’m not sure, I’ve not died before. When it happens, I’ll be sure to come back and tell you how it goes.” She said with a playful pat.

“I… couldn’t do anything. I told him to stop… he didn’t listen.” She said sniffling.

“And he wouldn’t stop, they’re going to kill us, and he would die before anything like that would happen to you. He’s… not in pain any longer.” She said with uncertainty.

As they passed, the necrons appeared to be raiding a perfectly ordinary office building belonging to a bank, with the kind of forces they’d actually sent to get the gathering.

The Banks were putting up a horrible fight and far more than the Mercenaries hired to defend the gathering. There was a shudder from the ground as the flowerfolk covered her ears, and felt the shudder from the ground.

“War on the streets, even? It’s over alright. That which my great grandfather would hate to see… war on the streets, invasion… We’re done for.” She said as Ayliah looked tired and attempted to lie back and relax a bit, get time to think.

The necron vehicle linked up with others, and landed, the front gate opening to let them out, guards waiting in what seemed like part of the forest, “Out,” one of them said. The pair stepped out, and Ayliah attempted to steady the flowerfolk as she looked over where she was heading towards. She had never had such a limited field of vision. It was as if she could only see a large fan shaped area in front of her, when she was used to being able to see from all perspectives, including overhead, and directly behind her.

“Name,” the necron asked, taking a small hoop of green metal, “occupation and titles.”

“Ayliah Mercine, Star of Morning, Head of the Gathering of Glause.” She said as she looked over at the hoop.

“I am Illyrie Eanirien, Head Minister of Art and Education.” the Flowerfolk said with a sickened expression.

The necron snapped the thing around Ayliah’s neck, and another on Illyrie’s, “There will follow a brief pain, do either of you suffer any known pulmonary or nervous conditions?”

“Neither of us do.” Ayliah said with a cleared throat.

“Calibration at lowest setting...” the shocks that followed were rather painful, though nothing compared to the binding itself.

The two treefolk women shuddered as they looked over at the C’tani with disdain and disgust.

“You should be aware that any attempted violence from either of you, including by magical means, or efforts to remove the devices will result in far more painful punishment, should your attempts prove critical, they will explode. Come this way,” he said. They did follow and the flowerfolk was at the end of her tether as she followed behind the C’tani.

The necron led them to a portal in the side of one of the vehicles they’d brought with them, this one much larger, “When you step through this portal you will be taken to the planet Mandragora,” a plant name, the irony was not lost on the necrons, “where you will be interrogated.”

“What do you want us to do, thank you?” Ayliah asked bitterly as she stepped through and shook her head and gently tugged Illyrie.

Perversely, the other side of the portal was a palace, high ceilings lit by phantom lights, indoor plants carved in the patterns of strange trees, and small waterfalls running over indoor stones dominated the room, which led to a collonaded courtyard, there were no necrons immediately present, though several statues of them were to be seen, instead, there were elves and humans, going about their business. The portal behind them faded, into a sheet of inert glass. Soft songbirds trilled pleasingly in the trees of crystal. Ayliah looked around the groups of people and didn’t say a word at Illyrie was still sobbing and Ayliah tugged her forward by her hand.

“And then he said to the enforcer, ‘Listen if you can just look in my pocke-” one of the elves, a woman, dark haired and bedecked with copper segments on the shoulders of her cloak said, “Hello there, are you ladies lost? I assume so, given the,” she touched her own throat, as if trying to avoid mentioning the inconveniences the treefolk had been saddled with.

“I don’t know who you are, but I don’t care. I am tired of all this. I am supremely tired. You have no idea, NO IDEA, what I have dealt with in the last few hours, and I do not want to take my anger, my grief, my suffering out on you, so if you know what is good for you, you will leave me alone.” Illyrie said sharply as Ayliah also seemed to be surprised by this outburst.

“Ah, I.. am sorry, I suppose. If you need to rest, I can show you some guest quarters?” she asked, spreading her arms a little in an unconscious, conciliatory gesture.

“No I don’t want to go to the guest quarters. I just want to be… I want to be left alone. Leave me.” Illyrie said with a blank voice.

“Illyrie…” Ayliah raised her hand to put it on Illyrie’s shoulder.

“LEAVE ME. Go! Go to your guest quarters and leave me alone.” She said in a tearful burst of sorrow as she fled from the pair.

“Oh, dear, please don’t worry about your friend, she’ll be looked after. Was it very terrible?” the elven woman asked apologetically.

“They… they killed her lover in front of her. It was… unbearable to watch. She begged them to have mercy, but it was none to be had. She… was bound into her body afterward, watched them do it to her, the feeling… it’s horrible. It’s painful… It killed some of us. She survived, begrudgingly, I imagine.”

“That’s horrific, and that was us? Where was this?” she asked, turning pale a little, watching Illyrie flee.

“Far away, in the westlands. Sylandral is where we are from.” She said with a tired glance. “I didn’t lose anything like she had, so all I can do is try and comfort her, but there’s no words I have for her.”

“Poor thing, I can’t even imagine,” she said, “Shall we get you settled somewhere and then you can talk to her later? She won’t be able to get into any trouble and she won’t disappear don’t worry...”

“That… is the least of my worries. She is likely lost already. No doubt she will try to find a way to reunite with her love, and there’s nothing I can do to stop her.” Ayliah said with a frown. “And to be fair, I totally understand why she would want to. They were going to kill us. If they had intended to spare us, her lover might have stood down, but… what fucking cruel irony, that we’re here. With… nothing.”

“It’s horrible. Like a cruel joke. I’ve never heard of Sylandral, but I... I don’t know, why were they even there?”

“They accused us of harboring slavers. A stupid, stupid claim. We are not slavers, we were the first among our region to abolish, and then the others to follow led by our mighty example.” The treefolk said with even more spite.

“That can’t be right.. necrons don’t go invading people for no reason. I can’t believe it.”

“I told you already, they accused us of slavery without cause, and then they ran down our people like dogs. They are monsters.” Ayliah said with a disgusted sickness in the back of her throat.

“We’re always quite careful. There’s never been a mistake like that... that’s simply horrible. Let’s try and find your friend and then we can see about what we can do to help.”

“You go see if you can find her, I’ll try and head over there to see if I can find help.” She said as she headed in the direction she suspected would have more people.


Ayliah was wrong, of course, and heading the way she’d chosen turned out to result in becoming increasingly lost in the labyrinthine spaces of the necron palace-like building, the number of people there soon reducing as rooms with meeting areas and cafes gave way to areas for storage, or areas where lays of dust had accumulated thick on the ground, leading to the impression that much of the structure had been long abandoned. Ayliah attempted to reorient herself, but it was difficult given her new, painfully narrow sense of perspective. She had never been so limited to only seeing what was in her direct forward and peripheral vision. The treefolk began to wonder where Illyrie was, and she knew however that persuing Illyrie was a bad idea, because there was just nothing that could be done to restore her state of mind. Ayliah could not even begin to contemplate what it must have felt like, and she did not even desire to know. She merely called out to see if anyone was there.

“Hello! Hello? Can anyone hear me?” She called out as she waved her brush covered fingertips.

“What assistance do you require?” a voice asked, from one of the inert computer stations built into a nearby alcove in the wall.

“A friend of mine is lost in here, but does not want to be found. Finding her would be easier if we had some others to help us search. Is there anyone available to assist us in finding her? She’s in a fragile state and may be a danger to herself and others. Time is of the essence.” Ayliah said calmly

“Are you looking for Illyrie Eanirien?”

“Yes.” She said simply, surprised that they knew who she was.

“Illyrie Eanirien is located in the southeast wetlands garden.”

“I see, so she is being watched at the moment?” She asked as she looked over her shoulder instinctively.

“All control collars contain tracking units,” the computer said by way of explanation, “do you wish to be guided to her?”

“Close, but not too close. I don’t want to be over her like a helicopter, but within a close enough proximity to not be too far away if she tries to hurt herself. “

“Follow the wayfinder scarab I am sending you,” the computer said, and after a few moments, a small copper and steel bug settled nearby, disturbing the dust a little.

She followed the scarab cautiously as she still felt a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach. No doubt this was a prison for her, but she had no idea what was to come from this strange ‘interrogation’. She was not aware of how long it would be before the torturer arrived, but she suspected that it was a likely conclusion.

Stepping outside of the prison walls, the scale of the structure became obvious, multi-tiered ziggurats climbed the sky in several directions, and the earth, a subtle golden shade that made it look like sand almost, carried on to the horizon, the passage only blocked by low hedgerows, the gardens themselves were lightly dotted with trees, but more common were various sedges and rushes that were planted around broad pools, colourful birds paddled about here and there, including huge sky blue swans and ducks that pattered past with quiet quorks as they went about their business. Ayliah did not seem to have much regret over the matter, it was a pretty prison, and seemed to consider it at least a lovely place to be interrogated in. She had no idea if this was merely a strange interlude that would end in being dragged off into a dark hole, or if it was just another beginning of something painful to watch. Ayliah however noticed Illyrie in the distance by the pond and kept her distance. If someone was to approach Illyrie, it would have to be the C’tani, because she was not going to attempt to interrupt Illyrie’s sense of deep misery.

And misery it was, meanwhile Illyrie was sitting at the pond’s edge scraping off her skin as the sap from the scrape was coating her fingers and she dropped the piece of skin into the pond by the pure white bog lilies to feed the fish. Her sense of emptiness and despair was profound and there was nothing that could break her sense of yearning and her sense of longing. She wanted to turn back time and she was shaking from every single breath. She felt unclean, as she remembered that moment he looked out over the fire escape in despair, wanting desperately to save Illyrie and she watched as he cast aside his weapon and she grasped his shoulder. She watched as he was pried away from her physically, feeling that last moment that they touched. She watched as they taunted him, asking him to cast her away selfishly, leaving her to die alone. He wouldn’t let her suffer alone, how she had wished he had only been more selfish. She only wished that he had listened to her command to submit. If only he had just said he would submit and chosen to live instead of remaining defiant to the very end, maybe then she could hold him one last time. She scraped again deep into her skin, flinching as she continued to see if the swans would be interested in the sweet sap covered pieces of skin.

Beside Ayliah, the elven woman reappeared, “She’s not permanently injuring herself is she?” she asked quietly.

“Not yet, but I wouldn’t want to go near her right now.” Ayliah said as she watched, gritting her teeth at what looked extremely painful. “She’s… peeling her skin off.”

“Yes, I can see, but... she won’t permanently scar herself will she?”

“If she keeps at it, probably.” Ayliah said as she looked over at the elf. “She’s not doing worse at least. I can say this surprises me a bit. I didn’t realize she was so fond of that Knight at all.”

The elf frowned sadly, and sat down on a stone bench, watching Illyrie, crossing her legs, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think this apology is meaningful.” Ayliah said as she sat down on the bench, towering over it comically. It was much like an adult sitting on a bench made for children with her immense size. “The interrogation has not yet begun, has it? When am I to anticipate my torturers?”

“I’ll find out for you,” she said, taking a sleek device from her pocket, like a scroll, which she unrolled and fiddled with briefly, “Your name? Your friend was Illyrie? We’ve an Illyrie Eanirien, and an Ayy-leigh-ah Mercine, is that you?”

“That would be me, yes.” She asked as she crossed her arms.

“Apparently they’re going to come for you in about three hours time, twenty two hundred hours local time, you’ve been assigned a whole group of interrogators? I guess you’re important?”

“You could say that.” She said as she seemed to be unsurprised. “So how long are we going to be kept in this beautiful prison after the torturing is completed? It’s… rather lovely, much less like the kind of prison I expected. To be fair, the worst feeling is to feel trapped within my own body. It’s awful.”

“I don’t understand?” she asked. “And this isn’t a prison. We don’t like prisons.”

“It is just as much as a prison as it is anywhere else, only this prison has a duck pond.” She said as she tried to avert her gaze from Illyrie. She was beginning to feel sick.

“Would... you like to know what they suspect you of? It’s all public information it seems.”

“Slavery, it seems.” She said as she looked over at the elf. “Debt slavery, I presume.”

“And orchestrating a conspiracy with Eames Gromkin to aid the genocide of Crystal Spires? I think I’ve heard of your country, Treefolk or something, right?”

“High Treefolk, yes. And… Eames was my cousin, so I can see why they think that. Of course, for that you should also arrest Ellesime Mercine as well, she is also Eames’s cousin. Oh, and Maven Auryn. Cousin in law, oh, and the entire Auryn family. Can’t be too careful.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders. “So...why does your strange country believe we’ve made it our mission to destroy the beastfolk? I mean, I understand why I might want to, but really doing such a thing exhausts our personal resources. Something of which we don’t have very much of. Small government, you see.”

“According to this, you are suspected of having gained in relative positioning terms by the catastrophe in your neighbors, and to have been the direct recipients of benefits in terms of transfers of capital and labour during the genocide as well as being involved in allowing Hobbiest forces to effectively abduct Spirean- is that how you say it - citizens?”



“I don’t deny that we’ve benefitted from it, but I don’t think it was us who took the law into our own hands. I didn’t torture that beastman, and I didn’t make him go into a suicidal death march to Nefreedia, and I didn’t even get involved when the Queendom of Peace attempted to slay him the first time. The fact that I helped the Hobbiest Republic airlift refugees who would have otherwise been slaughtered was a gift, and I expected thanks for it… but THIS?” she asked as she looked at her own hands.

“They claim that money changed hands, according to something called forensic accounting.”

“Between who, Eames and I?” Ayliah asked with a blank expression. “We’re family. Of course money was exchanged. He was having a genocide on his hands, and we had enough money collected to offer to our allies. It was a gift to attempt to stem the tide of Nefreedian Imperialism.” She said with a pout. She was not sure this was a lie or not.

“They also seem to think that you were, as a government, involved in giving him orders to betray the Spires people,” she said, reading off the sheet of necrontyr text, “sending their navy away, refusing to contest landings, failing to call in military aid from people like the Greater Pony Herd who could have turned it around, and us... I think they’re pissed about that, I know I am...”

“Now, you and I are both reasonable people. If my cousin decided to commit a war crime, wouldn’t I be most open about it? I have no reason to keep it a secret. The C’tani are not generally cruel to their informants, so why should I have hidden what I didn’t know? Now, what is more likely to have actually happened. Eames is...was… a stubborn asshole. He got in over his head and refused to call for help out of pride. This idea that he was willfully murdering or ordering the murder of dissidents is a Spirean invention to cover up for the regime’s failure to handle its own shit. But that’s okay. It’s only been in existence for like Fifteen years or so? How can we expect it to hold itself together on its own with Altea pushing westward and the monsters pushing east? It was bound to happen someday. All Eames did was give it a small push.”

“It’s one our analysts, hell, our news reporters, came up with on their own though. Reinforcements limited to right wing areas, roads and supplies closed off to communist areas. The entire navy told to fuck off to the arse end of the world... that’s deliberate.”

“That was Eames’s doing, yes. The fact that he was a terrible leader who hated communists is not my fault. I didn’t order him to do so. Eames is dead and has been punished. Surely we can move on, I am a victim of this too. I lost my family from this fiasco.” She said with a frown.

“This Elle woman, who is she?”

“Ellisime Mercine. Wife to Maven Auryn so I am told. She’s been married to that tyrant without so much as offering me the slightest notice. The idea that she would marry such a brutal and terrible leader is beyond me. He is as much to blame for the mess as anyone else is, but far be it for the Racist Spirean government to offer justice to their precious war hero.”

“Yeah, it’s got a lot about that in here, they claim your motive was partly fear of being overshadowed by the more advanced beastlings, and partly family honour, as the Arnstorana,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste, “arranged a marriage you didn’t approve of.”

“The fact that the beastlings suffered in a war started by their ill-chosen allies and that their leadership made poor decisions had nothing to do with me. The fact that we benefitted is not in question. We have benefitted, but this has nothing to do with my anger at the Beastlings. They are a pitiful and pitiable lot.”

“They have flying cars and you do not, I think it’s the other way around,” she said.

“And yet our allies didn’t attempt to destroy us all for our race. Apparently they’ve merely been reading too much conspiracy newsletters.” Ayliah said with a frown. “But I shouldn’t be too harsh with your people for getting things totally wrong. They cannot help their own ignorance, so maybe instead I shall be more transparent in the future, of course if you let us go and let us run our own country, I can promise full transparency.”

“I just live here,” she said, rolling the scroll up, “I want to help, nothing more. I hope you’re telling the truth though... or you’ve got a really good cover story that you’ll all stick to.”

“Why should we have a cover story? The perpetrators are dead.” Ayliah said with a frown.

“Well I’ve heard of these sorts of interrogations. They basically torture everyone until their stories match, on the basis that when they go in, most people haven’t got a cover story prepared and if they haven’t, one of them will break, and when they’re all telling the truth then their stories match...”

“Sounds about what I’ve come to expect from foreign barbarians. It’s nothing that is new to me, perhaps the only thing that is new is the… duckpond.” She said as she took a look at Illyrie. “Ack, she needs to stop, the smell is pungent.”

“Smells rather sweet,” the elf said, “do you want to try and get her to stop?”

“It is disgusting, I… will not get closer, no. I feel a bit guilty to be honest. It’s sad.” She said as she folded her hands in her lap.

“Then a foreign barbarian will try and help your friend, instead,” the elf said huffily, standing and walking over to Illyrie.

Illyrie saw the C’tani in the distance, and the Flowerfolk was shaking with sobs and recoiled as she saw the elf approach. She spat at the C’tani as he approached. She dropped a bit of sap covered skin and flung it at the swan who angrily protested the stickiness on his handsome blue plumage.

“Hello again,” the elf said. “Your name is Illyrie, isn’t it?”



“Yes, and you… You are no FRIEND OF MINE. You are nothing but an interrogator who is aligned with THOSE DISGUSTING WAR CRIMINALS. With those people who MURDERED UNARMED PRISONERS. You are PRETENDING to be nice to us because you want to TORTURE US. YOU HAVE SUCCEEDED. Every breath that I take that he does not live IS TORTURE. IT IS UTTER AGONY! MY HATE FOR EVERY ONE OF YOU IS UTTER! ‘WE DON’T MAKE MISTAKES’ FUCK YOU. YOUR MISTAKE HAS RUINED MY LIFE. THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO REPAIR IT! What could possibly justify the murder of an unarmed militiaman? What could possibly justify the utter depersonalization of a man whose only crime was the desire to protect me from utter monsters who wanted to kill me?” She cried as the tears spilled down her face, the grief overcoming every single word she said as her throat was tight to the point of pain and every bit of weight on her shoulder made her heart feel like it would give out from the pain any moment. She grabbed her skin deeply digging as she ripped off the flesh in front of the elf, screaming as she did so and tossed it in the pond. “WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME? YOU WANT MY BLOOD? TAKE IT! TAKE IT ALREADY!”

“I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t there... I just want you to stop hurting yourself,” she said, taking a step back, looking alarmed.

“Stop…. stop pretending you give a shit about me. Stop pretending you want to help me. Stop… stop please. I don’t want it. Whatever you’re offering, I don’t… I will not be able to handle it. I need to… I don’t know. The sleep that has no end is calling me, and all I can do is watch it from a distance and swear that I want it. Jamil is waiting, but I’m scared. It’s horrible, he was willing to throw his head upon a blade for me, but I am afraid.”

“Who... was he, tell me about him,” she said, stepping closer to Illyrie.

“He was a knight, sworn to protect me and my family since I was about nine, and I became so fond of him. He was like… it was like he was already my family, but I never admitted it to anyone. We would spend nights together, and as unacceptable as it was, I was happy. I don’t know what to do with myself now that he’s gone. He was my lover, my family, my best friend.” She started as she shook, her hands clenching into fists. “He was loyal and loving to me to the very end. He tried to save me using every bit of energy that he had. There was nothing I could do to save him and I just watched them… watched them kill him as I begged for his life.”

“Why did they do it? Why would they kill him if he was unarmed?” She spoke with genuine confusion.

“I don’t know. They had ordered him to cast aside his weapon and he did, and when they ordered him to abandon me… he didn’t.” She said with tears streaming down her face. “He refused to leave me alone, and to save himself.”

“Oh fuck, that’s... stupid fucking bastards.”

“They killed him and a few other militiamen. They had already bribed the police and the soldiers and ordered them to stand aside before the end. There was no one willing to stand for us other than dogs of war and militiamen who were loyal enough to us to stay by our side. Jamil refused to leave. He’s…they killed him.” She said still in disbelief. “I don’t know what to do with myself now. I have nothing else really to live for. Jamil was the only thing that made anything I did worth anything.”

“The stupid bastards are so caught up in their own rules of honour, they probably thought they were doing the decent thing by him,” the elf said, horrified.

“Jamil did not likely begrudge them. He would die before he would see them torture and execute me. No doubt this is what they plan to do. There’s no reason to believe anything otherwise. I am part of the existing government that was once High Treefolk. There is no reason to keep me alive.”

“There’s no reason to kill you either, why would we need to? You’re not going to be executed. Tortured, probably, but executed, no.”

“I am already being tortured, and there is no reason to think that there is any other reason they’ve left me in this… place. They are taunting my grief, and they are. destroying what is left of my soul. I have nothing to say to them, nothing I could give them. What am I going to say to them? I’m an Art and Education Minister. I oversee scholarships given in rolling contests that we don’t have money to fund. I am not allowed to build public schools because it would be prohibitively expensive to compete with private schools so it ‘is a waste of public funds’, I am not allowed to do open fundraising because that would be ‘government corruption’ and ‘we pay enough taxes, thank you’. I don’t have any knowledge in war or in other things out of my field. What the fuck am I going to tell these people?”

“Public schools?” the elf asked, raising an eyebrow, “You wanted to bring in public schooling?”

“Yes, I did. It was Jamil who believed it would be a good idea, and I agreed, but there was nothing we could do to fund it. Then I tried to see if there was a way to offer scholarships to poorer students who can’t afford the overly expensive private institutions. I ran art contests with a small entrance fee to see if we could get enough money to hold a student in one of the private schools. It worked for about three years before the money was already not enough. Not enough for anything. I can’t do anything, I am a failure at what I do. A pretty faced bureaucrat who has almost nothing to add to her name. Now the only good thing in my life has been taken away from me.”

“You poor thing, we didn’t know...” she said, her previous resistance to feeling compassion for the treefolk woman evaporating. “One student?”

“One… fucking… student.” She said as she attempted to calm down for a moment. “He managed to enter the school, but was blocked by a group of angry protesters, and the law enforcement officers blamed me for having caused a fuss and increased spending in their department by doing things ‘we’re just not ready for’ by being ‘too careless and hasty in making a decision’.”

“And it was really this Jamil’s idea?”

“He was the one to suggest the art contest for the money, and the fundraising in the cover of keeping in tune with my obligations as art minister as well. It’s… it was a brilliant idea. And he was happy that I was thinking about the people who aren’t of noble caste in the first place.”

“You should tell the interrogators this when they arrive,” the elf lady said.

“So they can taunt me more? I am done attempting to justify what has happened. There is nothing I can do anymore. I am just going to let them torture me until I die. There is no reason to exist in this shithole world anymore.” She said as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

“You could help us...” she said. “They’ll probably want you to, if you tell them that.”

“I don’t want to. They killed Jamil. Why would I want to help them?” She asked.

“He could be remembered if you did...” she said.

“I don’t want him to be ‘remembered’ I want him to be alive. I don’t think there is any honoring of his memory that could get rid of this horrific and terrible void that is left behind. There is only pain and there is only suffering and agony left behind. There are no words that can change this.” Illyrie said as she lie backwards and just lie there, the smell of treesap was strong around the area. Ayliah had left as it was making her feel physically sick.

“You say I am interrogating you? Did you know about the conspiracy with Eames Gromkin?” she asked, sitting down next to the despairing flowerfolk.

“What is there to know? Aside from the fact that there was a surge of prosperity after the Spireans lost their economy and workforce? I can’t say that I was entirely surprised that it happened, but to think that Eames would go so far…” She said with a tired sigh. “It’s just sickening.”

“Did you know it was going to happen?”

“No, but I wasn’t surprised when it did. I found out about it in its aftermath. There were a few words that were exchanged about it, but I thought it to be excessively cruel.” She said with a grimace. “I bet there were many beastlings who suffered in the same way I suffer now, but I can’t do anything for them, and I can’t do anything about my own grief.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” she asked, “about the invasion?”

“There were a few words discussed in the Military Council and the diplomatic Council of the Gathering. I make no part of either council so I don’t know what was said in either conference. I know however that we witnessed its aftermath in the same way everyone else did. The Gathering is made so that a small group of people can make decisions on things that are directly relevant to their function. The people in the Gathering are the most intelligent and often the most powerful people in Treefolk. The issue however comes in when there is information that is irrelevant to one’s field. Your opinion counts for nothing. The Diplomatic Council saw profit to be made, and so it was made. The Military Council saw benefit in doing what was done, and so it was done. There was no participation by others. No shaking hands in agreement.”

“Did they think they’d get away with it forever?” she said, still disbelieving and pitying.

“They believed they did when we entered Greater Prussia. We didn’t expect that your people would be entering it as well. I don’t know if that was the reason for it for sure, but I know that is what its intention was. Even if something went terribly wrong. The benefit of the Gathering is that there are very few people responsible for making such a decision. Once a Decision is made however, it cannot be questioned or unmade.”

“I... don’t think we need to torture you any further,” the elf said sadly, sitting beside Illyrie.

“Haven’t you done enough already? There is nothing more you can do to me. You can tear me apart and there would be nothing I could tell you.” Illyrie said as she attempted to calm down. “If you refuse to do it, then I will.”

“I would rather help you than hurt you.”

“Don’t know if anything can help. Nothing feels worth it anymore. My eyes are burning, my hands tingle, and I still don’t feel satisfied with tearing myself apart. It’s hurting, but it’s not getting better. There are no beavers here.” She said as she attempted to think of solutions to her pain and agony.

“I can get you a beaver, would that hel - oh. No, no beavers.”

“The ducks aren’t hungry either. Nor are the fish.” She said with a frown. “I… can’t think of anything.”

“Wait a day. See how you feel tomorrow. You will still feel grief, but it will be different.”

“I don’t want a day. I want the end to pain. There is nothing I want other than that at this moment. There is nothing that another day can do to make me feel better.” She said as she lie on the ground and just attempted to wait in the shade. At one point she hoped the lack of sunlight would do the job. “It’s cruel. They were so willing to execute Jamil, but… I’m left alone to just live without a semblance of purpose... alone, a meaningless and pointless existence.”

"They were ordered to take you alive. If they hadn't been then I imagine you would be dead too."

“It is a terrible thing to live. Living is the most awful thing I have ever done. There is nothing but a sea of pain and agony in the midst of tiny islands of joy that only become buried in the sea of despair and the tears I am shedding, these are only because I cannot hold it anymore. I am drowning, and it is painful. I just can’t die here, can I? I somehow think there is nothing more I can do. I’m a coward, forgive me, Jamil.” She said with her eyes flowing with tears once more.

“Stand up,” the elf said, the tone an order, holding her hand out.

"Not done with me then? There is just so much you can do to me. I can't promise anything will do what you want. I am spent." Illyrie said with her struggles being without much resistance.

The elf winced a little at contact with the sticky hand as she pulled Illyrie up, to her feet, “Come with me,” she said, firmly, still holding her as she led her back to Ayliah, holding her hand and holding her with the other.

Ayliah was disgusted at the pungent odor of sap and she was looking over at the elf with reproachful eyes and she gagged as she stepped away from her, not wanting to touch Illyrie at all. There seemed to be some sort of taboo on it, and she kept close enough to speak.

" I told you that it was not a good idea to trouble Illyrie further." Ayliah said with a deep grimace.

“Better to abandon her, you think? Help me with her, now,” the elven woman snapped.

“ As you command, then.” Ayliah said with a bit of a shuffle in her step as she cringed at Illyrie’s touch and then took a step forward as she attempted to haul Illyrie up to her feet which wasn’t very hard for a treefolk. The result was of course that Illyrie was still very listless and didn’t seem interested in moving much, but she followed orders given to her.

The elf took her to a actinically lit room, a broad and well appointed bedroom that looked out through windows on the citadel, drawing back the bedsheets, “Lie here,” she said to Illyrie, holding on to the flowerfolk.

Illyrie lie down as Ayliah attempted to tuck the bedsheets over Illyrie and then she looked around for a place to wash her hands. Illyrie simply lie in the bed and looked up blankly as she attempted to keep her eyes focused on what was around her. She did not know what was going on, but she just lie down, her body feeling heavy, and her chest heaving from the pain, and her head in pain from the endless crying, as she attempted to calm down vainly. She pulled the sheets over her head and turned on her side, resisting the urge to vomit as she gagged and still was attempting to collect herself.

“Rest, Illyrie, it will not get worse at least. If it is this bad.” Ayliah said attempting a vain comforting tone of voice. She didn’t truly believe it would be getting better anytime soon. The torture had barely begun, and she was not going to tell her that the torturers were going to come after the hours were up.

“Come, Ayliah, with me,” the elf said, heading to the kitchen, finding it unstocked, “What do your people drink to calm nerves?” she asked.

“Depends on the method and manner of nerves, but I can say a tincture of peppermint might help with boiled kava root. If you have either that would be good, but there’s still little that can be done for her. This is a problem of emotional distress, not fear.” She said as she looked over at the elven woman. “You’ve still not told me your name, interrogator.”

“Carnien, and you’ve not asked, not that I am an interrogator,” she said, a machine decanting a drink, smouldering with heat, “Will this be about the right temperature do you think?”

“I would think it would work, the warmth should be enough to give her a sense of relief but I think the most important part is the kava root, as it will act as a bit of a sedative to help her get less troubled and it’ll calm her, for certain.” Ayliah said as she tested it with her finger along the edge of the tea. “This is perfect, I think it will do.”

Illyrie was still shaking with sobs as Ayliah looked upon her with pity but also mild disgust. She looked over at Carnien.

“Is there a restroom here?” She asked as she looked over at the elf with a calm expression.

“Yes, over there,” she said, kneeling down beside Illyrie and holding up the tea, making her sit up a little, “drink this.”

Illyrie attempted to swallow the tea, but was having difficulty as she choked upon it and took a deep breath before sipping. Ayliah meanwhile was washing her hands to get the sap off, and then she headed back to the room as Illyrie managed to get through a quarter of the drink.

Carnien stopped now and then to help wipe Illyrie’s chin, trying to be patient with the treefolk. She had managed to finish the tea, and was lightly sedated with the tea and she lie down after it was finished. Ayliah stood by the threshold and she looked over at Carnien as if to indicate she was probably best left alone at this point.

The elf needed no telling, taking the cup, passing it into the washer and leaving the rooms, “Ayliah, come with me...”

“Very well.” She said as she followed cooperatively and bowed her head. “You want to discuss something with me?” she asked still feeling pity for Illyrie but feeling sickened by the overpowering scent as well.

“No, I just want Illyrie to sleep, and that means I want you out of there when they come for you.”

“I understand. She’s had a difficult day, and things are not going to get any better when they come. At least she can get some respite, but I don’t suspect that your masters will simply leave us alone. They allow the opposition to their government live? They tolerate those who resist your blatant imperialism?”

“Yes,” Carnien said, sitting down, “we do, not that I have any masters, at least, not within the people you are talking about. I am a volunteer, no more.”

"So as I am aware, you intend to still torture prisoners of war. We have surrendered. To go further than this is unethical." Ayliah said with a tired sigh. “ You and your people, however are not reasonable, and cannot be reasoned with."

“You are not prisoners of war, you are enemy politicians responsible for a heinous regime of slavery,” she said, “and genocide. You are a war criminal.”

“ You have not a single iota of evidence of that claim. If you intended to be unreasonable and wished to blame us for all the injustices in the world, I would like to at least know what evidence you have of my guilt. I can explain it if you give me a chance to. Otherwise, this is merely speculation. Your prejudice and bitterness against our people is astonishing."

“I am not your prosecutor, I am your advocate, but you said ‘debt slavery’ before you even knew why we wanted you,” she launched into a potted explanation of the moral injustice of inherited debt, in very simple terms, as one might for a small child.

"This would be great if I had a single hand in it, but I don’t. This is the responsibility of the banks. The contracts are enforceable by law, but law in high treefolk is hardly able to function properly as it is because we do not have enough funds. If people are willing to pay for private bounty hunters for people who have committed grand larceny, we punish them. They entered into the contract and if their descendants begrudge their ancestors and the debt they have snagged upon them, I have every sympathy for them. Perhaps we can have them disown said ancestors, and see if this frees them from their debts. I can’t change the contracts however. "

“You could have asked for a law enforcement apparatus to be brought in ever since you joined Greater Prussia if you wanted to do anything. You did not, you are complicit.”

"And give more and more hireling and getting more debt? We have paid our dues and have gotten few things back from Greater Prussians. There is still are things we aren't willing to do with regards to membership in Greater Prussia, and being panhandlers is not one of them. Gendarmeries in Osterfall have their hands full with the Raiders to the south seas. "

“There are millions of them, there can be millions more. They could just have bought the banks for you.”

"Why would they WANT to? Buying up debt is not a wise investment. It is purchasing junk bonds. ”

“Because you are an embarrassment and a strategic weakness?”

"Yes, but we are taking effort to restore our national reputation. It takes time. " Ayliah said to the C’tani with patience.

“Too late. You are complicit, your bankers will be punished too, don’t worry.”

"Truly an unreasonable people. C'tani. Punishment without a single bit of evidence nor any non contrived charges and no effort made to diplomatically reach a mutual compromise and blaming innocent people for charges they are not responsible for. Truly the worst sort of people. Your hastiness shall lead to unnecessary harm and bloodshed. I only hope that you can reconsider. ”

“Drop the act, it doesn’t work...”

“What act? I have no reason to act when this is the truth.” Ayliah claimed as she scoffed at the C’tani’s pretensions to claim moral high ground. The C’tani were willing to invade a nation rather than engage in diplomatic engagement. They had already failed their moral obligations in her mind.

“You can claim that if you want,” she said with a shrug, “But dissembling won’t help you,” Carnien said, taking out the scroll again and unrolling it.

“I have no desire to conceal anything. What have I to hide? Aren’t we going around in circles with this? Eames is merely my cousin, and I was not involved with his unwise and yes, genocidal decisions. I also was not involved in the Nefreedian War. I stayed out of it, perhaps that was my mistake.” She said with a curious glance. “What do you think I get from confessing to things that aren’t true?”

“Nothing, but I am currently requesting they excuse the non-military and non-diplomatic members of our council thing from the interrogation, because I believe that Illyrie was being truthful with me,” she said, slipping a stylus like endpiece from the scroll and writing rapidly, hand twisting in tiny circles and lines.

“Illyrie was basically a bureaucrat with a very specific and small job. I think she did a good job, I don’t know if this is what you can agree with, but I don’t know what else you are looking for in questioning me with torturers. I don’t know what you want to hear.”

“Be quiet,” she said, “you have squandered your chance, if you want to talk to me, I’m here to help you, but if all I am getting is silly denials then I don’t have time to waste on you when I could be helping someone more deserving.”

“I told you, I don’t know what you want to hear, so I am telling you what is the best thing to say in my defense. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” She asked blankly.

“You have studied the prisoner’s dilemma, I assume?” she asked, without looking up, “game theory is something they teach in your schools I assume?”

“I don’t remember the details well, but I remember it has something to do with two prisoners being offered a bargain which is to take something that will sabotage another prisoner completely, while you get off scot free, or to confess to a lesser crime and you and your comrade will get lesser sentences?”

“That’s the one, yes, now, imagine you were wanting to get the truth out of a group of prisoners, how would you change it to ensure they comply and tell the truth?”

“I am not sure.” Ayliah said looking over at the Elf as she seemed to be unsure if it was good to tell her the truth anyway.

“You change the conditions of the test such that the only winning answer for the prisoner is to tell the truth. Your comrades are also being held in isolation from one another, and they will be questioned as you will. You will be subjected to increasing penalties for each round of lies from any of you. If you lie, and your comrade tells the truth, both of you lose. If you tell the truth, and your comrade lies, both of you lose, if your comrade lies and you lie, you both lose, and if your comrade tells the truth, and you do, then we will stop and decide what to do with you, which is likely to be parole or execution, and a rather pleasant one at that.”

“I am uninterested in dying, C’tani. Why should this be pleasant for me? A death is a death. There is no painless death.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders. “This scenario presents zero benefits for telling the truth, even if there was truth you were willing to accept. I don’t think there is one.”

“You will think differently when they begin, and there are painless deaths, carbon monoxide poisoning for instance, is subtle enough that people do not usually notice they are suffering from it.”

“I am still dead whether it is painful or not, and you can kill me with Carbon Monoxide, but it will take agonizingly longer. I’m not a human.” She said with an annoyed expression. “There is no benefit to it at all.”

“Plants respire, they can be killed in the same manner, it is just that you produce oxygen too. Carbon monoxide displaces oxygen in preferential uptake.”

“Plant respiration is in no way the same scale as animal respiration, and you have presented no benefits to me again. Why should I comply at all. It is merely deciding whether you kill me with an axe or a sword, the same result happens. Regardless, you continue to point out the benefits of ceasing to exist. I don’t think there is one. All you are doing is giving me a choice to which is terrible of you.”

“Pfft. I have only not taken my life already because I have work to do,” she said, with annoyance.

“What do you mean? Are you suicidal for some reason?” She asked as she examined the elf in surprise.

“They say the shame goes away, it shouldn’t,” she said, “be quiet,” she reiterated.

“What have you done that you are so ashamed? We can talk about it, we’re both just waiting for death to sneak up on us, so maybe we are more like each other than you think.” She said with a sigh. “And we’ve also both experienced something shameful that we would rather have avoided. Gods if I could only count.”

“I was the official in charge of monitoring the Nefreedians, and they destroyed millions on my watch because of your cousin, and then they destroyed themselves. My failure is total. And it is your fault,” she said coolly.

“I apologize, I am truly sorry for that. I wish there was something that could be done, but what happened cannot be undone. I don’t see why you should blame yourselves. That was the Nefreedians’s fault entirely. I do not take blame for what evil people do, and neither should you.” She said as she attempted to put her hand on the elf’s shoulder.

“If I had been more insightful, I would have been able to discover your plot in time, and destroy you all long ago. Now I can merely find answers, so that it doesn’t happen again. Take your hand off me.”

“I was only doing what I thought was best for my people, and I didn’t expect that it would end up as awful as it did.” She admitted. “I thought the Nefreedians were starving incompetents, and that they were still easier to defeat than they were. I also didn’t realize just how polarizing hateful the Spireans were of each other. I didn’t expect that they would go on a rampage against their own people.” Ayliah sighed as she released the elf. “We can only look back on mistakes and admit that’s what they were after they’re done.”

“What did you have to do with it, really?” she said, “I want to know, not just for the interrogation...”

“I was supposed to decide as part of the Council how to go about liaising between Eames and the Council. I was his family so I could easily visit him and deliver information from the councils that we needed taken there. Whether he listened to what information was given or not, I don’t know. I merely knew what happened afterwards. I was a talking figurehead moreso, and a safe person to send to the Beastlands.”

“What kind of things did they want to communicate?” she asked.

“Locations, and other vague notions of unfavorability to the Treefolk and Treefolk expatriates. Places where known hostile elements to business were located, various things that also were a type of code that I only partially understood. Eames knew if it before he immigrated to the Beastlands, so whatever it was, I am sure the Military Council knew of it. I can only suspect they were population centers where businesses that were threats to treefolk’s were in hindsight, because their populations were afterwards… devastated. Ohm, Vehir, and Mephiste. It’s… strange. I didn’t know what was going on until afterward.”

“I don’t actually believe that, but go on, who in Crystal Spires did you contact?”

“Various Treefolk immigrants, and some elves that had managed to get a foothold in the councils. I was also to deliver messages to Eames, but I am telling you. I don’t know what the codes mean. I could give you some of them, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin with regarding the contents. I was the face of sympathy for High Treefolk, because in the times of Conflict I had managed to censure Messandre and their ilk. I accepted the refugees fleeing westward. They trusted me, and in a way… I betrayed them and proved to be worse than Messandre was in a sick twisted irony. I probably managed to kill more of them than Messandre ever could, not with a sword, but with a smile.”

“Why didn’t you do something?” Carnien asked.

“I did, I accepted their refugees, and I sent the Hobbiests in attempting to get people out, but I underestimated the horrific nature of the beastmen, and the lands to the east, and the worse and disgusting nature of man in war.” Ayliah said with a shrug. “We all realized too late just how horrible it would become.”

“Now that I can believe, but why didn’t you tell us that Eames was your agent? He could have been removed, and the slaughter ended far earlier...”

“He was family… I don’t think… I don’t think your people understand just how important family is for treefolk. Despite the fact that my sister is disowned, it agonizes me, and I am merely waiting for her beloved beastman to die so she can come back and be welcomed with open arms. My cousin for all his horrible and terrible deeds, and I don’t deny their offensive nature, he’s… he was still my cousin. It’s unfathomable to turn against one’s family. It’s also why even if I were to say, ‘disown your family, clear your debt’ I don’t think this would go over well among my people. It’s a possible solution because the issue in the worded contract ties into the generation of a particular family name, so it’s a potentially legalistic bullshit method to break the contract and forgive the debts, but I don’t think anyone would take it.”

“They won’t need to now...” Carnien said.

“No, I imagine not, but it was an option once discussed in the financial council. It was dismissed and laughed out of the council, but it was a proposed solution to intergenerational debt that was held privately after joining Greater Prussia.” She said with a frown. “I cannot say I have not made mistakes, but I try to make up for them when I can.”

“If I believed you, I’d pity you, I’m still not sure I do, but I hope for your sake that you’re telling me the whole truth. Really I do.”

“You’re going to kill me. What reason have I to lie. I don’t generally dick with my captors, because I think one can catch more flies with honey than vinegar. I am still of the impression however, that the truth ultimately doesn’t matter. Your people have made their minds up.” Ayliah said with a shrug. “They want something and someone to punish. Same way the Beastmen wanted theirs, and my cousin took the brunt of that, and so too, did Maven Auryn.”

“YOUR COUSIN DID IT!” the elven woman roared, standing up, irate with the notion that the archtraitor had been punished unjustly.

“Did I deny that?” She said raising her hands defensively, her eyes widening. “He was not punished unfairly, I don’t think. But Maven was.”

“Yes, and you, you will get yours.”

[The Ctan]

“It was not Maven who was raining terror, destruction, and death upon the quivering populace to remind everyone who the boss was. It was not Maven who raised taxes to a ridiculous degree, demanding to keep himself living a life of luxury as the workers starved and froze to death. He is hated in such a way." Ayliah said with a grimace. “As much as I despise him for ruining my family relationships, I do not think he was at fault for what happened. If the Spireans could execute him for the mess, they would, but they’re legalistic, so they won’t. They will continue to watch and monitor him forever to see if he takes a single toe out of line, and then… he will probably pay for it with all the rage and hatred generated.”

“Not when they have you to hate instead,” Carnien said, rolling the iron scroll up and walking out of the door.

Ayliah sighed and crossed her arms uncomfortably as she went to check on Illyrie. She attempted to keep a healthy distance away, being sickened by the contact with the smells of the sap. She also did not want to wake her or create more episodes of distress for the poor girl. She saw that Illyrie had managed to cry herself into a deep fatigued exhaustion and had finally managed to fall asleep.

The C’tani left her alone for a time, leaving Ayliah in the vast palatial building The treefolk left Illyrie on her own and attempted to get a mental map of the area, finding it terribly difficult to do without her ability to get an aerial view. She attempted to find a way to climb up so that she could get a better view.

The buildings proved to be based around a ziggurat of golden metal, built without any signs of seams or rivets on its entire structure, stairs ascending up its sides. She attempted to get a view from the grounds by wandering about, still attempting to get an idea of what was in the vast palace, attempting to see if there was a chance to spot anything in the area worth seeing. As she approached the top of the structure, there seemed to be a small shrine built upon the flat surface at the top, dark within. Around, the landscape was covered in gardens and forests, with a gridwork of buildings that interlinked them between the bulk of pyramids, obelisks and stranger monuments, some vast C shaped things pointed crystals at the sky, while the sky swirled with dark clouds. The enormous structure proved to be a good way to get her bearings and she attempted to head toward the C shaped monument slowly with caution, attempting to get an idea of what it was.

The structure sat on six radial legs on a large base that towered up like a lesser temple structure, built with some kind of markings around it. She attempted to examine the markings and wondered what language it was in, and she began to parse through the languages she was aware of, and was unsure if they were anything she had seen before. She attempted to see if there was anything remotely resembling an exit. The markings were necrontyr, and impossible to decipher without an understanding of their unusual principles, a quiet noise of stone scraping on stone could he heard behind her.

She nervously turned behind her and snapped to attention as she looked over at the direction where the sound came from. She also cowered slightly as she attempted to stay out of sight. The C shaped bulk of the pylon was rotating on its base, to point toward her. She attempted to dive out of the way, unsure what the thing would do. The device seemed to pass her by after a moment, pointing its bottom section at her only briefly, as if categorizing if she were hostile; in reality it was preparing to obliterate a potential saboteur as it looked up her noospheric tags, but found them to be in order, and so passed her by. She looked back and sighed in relief seeing that it did not blow her to smithereens as she attempted to glance over the object finding it to be very curious. She kicked and prodded it gently, attempting to see what it does.

The reward was an instant electrical shock from her collar as the device decided she was trying to vandalise important military equipment.

She looked shocked as she grasped her neck and she whimpered in pain as she reached over and attempted, merely out of biological response to attempt to pull the collar away from her, feeling the pain jolting her limbs awkwardly as she attempted to catch her breath.

It didn’t take the attempt to pull against it as a further infraction, happily enough. She cursed in Sylvan and attempted to look for another way around. She was moving quicker, as she realized it would not be much longer before her torturers would come. Single droplets of rain fell, like tears, as she almost ran down the stairs toward the buildings again, broad, flat roofs forming aisles and walkways over the endless gardens. She attempted to find any sort of way beyond the endless gardens, tiring herself out as she took a moment to merely lock herself in position, resembling a tree standing in the rain, adorned with the ribbons and clothes she wore which hung like flags upon her. She attempted to calm down, examining the area around her once more as she felt the frantic feeling of terror climb upon her.

“Is...this the last place I will ever see?” She asked herself aloud as she felt the rain drip down each leaf upon her, rolling down as she attempted to come to terms with what she had already confessed. She had likely got her friends killed, and she felt guilt consuming her once more. She attempted to see the brighter side of her circumstances, but found them to be as grim as could be.

She attempted once more after catching her breath to keep running, attempting to find her way to somewhere resembling a place she could hide.

A man in a dark coat appeared ahead of her on the roof, smoky jade bubbles of light sliding off him as he appeared with a soft pop, he wore a broad rimmed hat, and had his coat turned up against the cold, he held up a hand in greeting. Ayliah was terrified and she felt her survival instincts priming as she attempted to rush toward a grove, and camouflage herself in the trees. She was listening, but said nothing, as she didn’t want to be found.

He came from a different direction, the same man, walking down a set of stairs, lightly on the balls of his feet, almost dancing as he approached, “You can’t hide,” he said, “I can see the tracking systems on you...” he said, leaning against the side of one of the trees.

“Who are you?” She asked, staying in place unmoving.

“Name’s Will, I’ll be your pain technician today...” he said, with the kind of apologetic tone one might give to someone that had a slight discrepancy in their tax records.

“Hello Will, I’ve no desire to experience pain, so how about we cut to the chase and you can tell me what you really want from me?” She asked as she stayed in place.

“Well, first you’ve got to come with me and we’ll get you secured,” he said, “then we’ll begin. You might not feel any pain at all if you’re lucky and cooperative.”

“I don’t want to, haven’t you barbarians learned that torture doesn’t work for just about any interrogation?” Ayliah asked as she stayed in place.

“That’s not actually true, it’s something people say to reassure themselves. Uproot yourself and come with me.”

“You have many years of scientific proof showing otherwise. All torture does is make the person being tortured say whatever they think will make the torture stop. It’s never effective if you want usable information. This is merely to extract a false confession, and if that’s what you want then I’ll say whatever you want then.”

“The trick is to make you think that the thing I want to hear is the truth as you know it, which is in fact correct. Now, you should cooperate.”

“That isn’t the way to extract truth from an interrogation you asshole.” Ayliah said as she backed away. “That’s merely a bullshit way of controlling a person. This is wrong in every way. You people are monsters.”

“So be it,” he said, and reached out to point at her, the teleportation enclosed part of the ground under her, resulting in it feeling like it crumbled away under her onto the steel floor as they reappeared in a broad room, with a pair of large machines, slightly insectoid in appearance, on one wall, while an inclined table stood between two lattices of blue crystals. One wall contained a door, while the other was transparent, showing a circular room with a dozen similar rooms around it. Ayliah attempted to avoid the creatures and attempted to smash objects around her in fear as she attempted to launch them at the creatures.

There was little in the room yet, to actually be thrown, and the machines powered up, heading toward her on numerous legs, while Will stood by, dispassionately watching her. She attempted to beat the machines with pure force of the hardwood limbs she had and was hesitant to strike at Will himself as she attempted to restrain herself that much at least.

The machines wrapped her with metal tentacles, compressing brutally, to a human they would break limbs, to a treefolk, probably the injury would be less serious, they estimated, as they hauled her toward the table. She still attempted to struggle against the creatures fruitlessly and spat at Will in defiance as she was finally hauled to the table and she attempted to still not be held against her will.

“It’s brave to struggle, but you are wasting time,” he said, as several other members of the financial council were seen undergoing similar experience in the other rooms.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction of ease. You’ve already past that moral line where you’re willing to do anything to get what you want, The fact that you’ve done that leaves me nothing to do but to fight you.” She said as she continued to struggle against her bonds until she was exhausted, and she did, in fact struggle for quite some time. Even if she had slackened in her struggle she had panted and moved her branches and tendrils fruitlessly.

“In actual fact, the claim that torture victims merely tell the questioner what they think they want to hear is an oversimplification. Did you know that if they have faith in a rescue attempt, people, humans that is, can refuse to answer questions under almost any stimulus?”

“That doesn’t mean that they will not talk. On the contrary, they’ll talk all they can as long as the person is listening and not torturing them. A stupid practice.” She said with a worn and weak tone in her voice as she attempted again to struggle against her bondage.

“Not at all, the belief that all torture is pointless is essentially a form of moral cowardice when dealing with hypothetical questions, ‘I do not endorse torture because torture will never work’ is a comforting belief to hold, but not one that is in fact substantiated, because in your case-”

“Oh Hogwash, stress can make chemical reactions inhibit every memory one has. It’s why so many torture victims give false confessions and false testimony, even if they have no idea what they’re confessing to. What you have there, is moral cowardice, and the inability to express the truth of this whole scenario. You are not doing this for information. You are doing this because you want power over another person. Power over life and death. You want to feel less inferior than you are.”

“If you wish to believe that, I’m not here to disabuse you. Now, you have the opportunity to record a brief message to your comrades, if you want them to help you by telling us the truth, you may begin when you wish...”


“I don’t know what you want me to say, and since you have no understanding of morals all I can say is that I pray for the souls of your people. You all are beyond the pale when it comes to what moral leadership should be. I am not a moral leader, but I don’t torture surrendered prisoners. I don’t execute unarmed men, I don’t spit on the face of justice by denying even the chance to talk with the person who offends you and instead launching into a military campaign. I don’t deny people the safety I can offer them when I can. Yes, I have made mistakes. I am an imperfect person. There are somethings I would rather never have made, mistakes are cruel, but you don’t have to make one.”

“Do you want your comrades to be tortured, or do you want all of you to be spared it?” he asked.

“Why would I want to inflict pain on my comrades or repugnant acts of humiliation and agony upon my friends or my countrymen. Fuck you, I’m nothing like you.” She spat again.

“Then you want them, and yourself to give us a full answer to each round of questions, so that we monsters spare you.”

“Release me and we can begin talking like civilized men and women.” She said again, protestingly.

“That’s not going to happen. Tell your comrades to tell us everything as they remember it, or you are,” he stepped out of the way to let her get a better look at them, “letting us hurt them more.”

“Truly disgusting morally repugnant barbarians.” She muttered as she looked over where she was supposed to and spoke openly. “There is no use trying to reason with them. Speak as you are told, and do not hesitate to exercise truth among them. They are not interested in truth, but we at least can protect ourselves with it.”

Will waited, until several others had given similar messages, before playing those for Ayliah, each of the treefolk councillors having been primed in a similar way. Ayliah clammed up a bit, and didn’t say another word, but in the other room where the other pain technicians were glancing over their charges. There were a mixed bag of men and women. Many of them were having quite varied reactions to their position. One man attempted to bribe the technician, mentioning that he had a huge amount of wealth that he could offer to have the man set for life. Others were crying like children, weeping as they were just that terrified. There were a few that were like Ayliah and were stoic but exhausted from the events that had led up to their interrogation. There was one Flowerfolk woman who offered herself sexually to her interrogator, hoping to avoid the torture. There were cowards and brave folk, cunning and stupid folk. Of course among them, they were unsure what the interrogation would mete out, but the hardened among them suspected this was only a prelude to death. A taste of what was to come.

He watched the group, and as messages were recorded by several others to encourage their fellows to tell the truth, he played three in a row for Ayliah.

“Speak not deceit, and tell the truth in all things.” One of the elder treefolk Military Council members said in his recording.

“Please! Just tell the truth for the love of the Gods!” One of the Diplomatic Councilmen shouted in fear.

“I don’t know if what I am saying will help, but guys, I don’t think lying will work.” One of the treefolk said with a nervous laugh. “I mean, it’s worked a lot before but we’re in a fairly unpleasant predicament in which we won’t be able to get much by lying.”

Will sat down next to her, “Now, let’s clear up some things, this is the first round of questions, so you can answer freely, and we’ll work from there,” he said, “Explain for me why your government allows the banks to exploit the people, give me a general history...”

“We’ve never been involved in banks other than taxes, and we have a flat tax which is the same on all citizens. We haven’t generally become involved, and in the annals of our history, it has only proven to be a matter of pragmatism. When the banks flourished, so did the nobility.” Ayliah explained. “There was also a greater chance for people to become mobile at one time, but those times have long passed.” She admitted.

“Can you remember any time when your council discussed debt reform seriously?” he asked.

“We began discussions over three hundred years ago. They progress to this day.” She said calmly.

When asked the question, the Military Council member seemed to ponder how to answer this question. There was no time that the council did not discuss things seriously, but the belief he had was that it was hard to discern when the first conversation about debt reform was had, of course naturally there were many, many discussions that didn’t seem to go anywhere.

“Thousands of years ago, if not since our founding. They continue as the time passes.” He said, believing he had spoken the truth.

The Diplomatic Council member seemed to be confused by the question. “We...I don’t know, I think we’ve had discussion about it at least fifty years ago when another proposal was brought up but it was discarded.”

The Financial Council member seemed horrified. “How seriously are we talking?”

“Tell me what you can,” the necrontyr woman, whose face was stitched back together from some heinous damage, with silver and gold trimmed augmetics, a green eye making her look almost like a half-necron.

“I’m not sure. I think we’ve had some half-hearted conversations about it on occasion, but no one is stupid enough to get involved with the banks. They have more power than our central government anyhow. I would imagine you’d know that given how you’ve got us here and… not them.”

“Their executives are less easy to find, but found they will be. Their delivery alive is a key priority, and they will be questioned as you are,” she said, “you could help us there, which of the banks’ leaders have you found the biggest barrier to reform?” The question was asked of the others too.

"Othlon F.S.B, I think. This is probably the most powerful bank in the country." Ayliah said with a conflicted expression.

“Errrr… Othlon.” The Financial Council member said. “W-why?” The man asked as he cringed slightly.

“I do not know.” The Warrior said with a frown. “There are many, but there are few with actual power, but I am thinking it may be Deythr or Othlon.” he said not sure still. “I’m not a banking man, I live by paychecks.”

“Othlon, obviously.” The Diplomatic Councilwoman said.

“Tell me about Othlon,” Will asked Ayliah.

“Has a terrible power and has a way of bullying the councils into restricting other banks, and restricting options around the country. They have control over a sizeable portion of magicite which they use to continue to control the mechanization of treefolk industries. They also have a stronger situational advantage in that they control most of the smaller banks in the capital. I’m no financial expert, but I would say Othlon also controls a number of smaller companies as well.”

“Tell me about the Othlon bank,” the necrontyr woman asked, across the chamber.

“It started with a company that mined magicite, and then they began their own financial institution, they became incredibly wealthy and they began to be able to control what other banks were already established. Othlon has since attempted to limit any form of cooperative banking in High Treefolk, and has instituted hilariously unreasonable barriers to trade to the point where the economy had been stagnating for over fifty years. We had only managed to overcome our financial depression in the past year… After the circumstances with the beastmen of course, truly tragic.”

“Why do Othlon want to retard the industrial development of your country?” the interrogator with the elderly military tree-man, a bronzed looking man with sun-bleached hair asked.

“Hell if I know, I’m not entirely sure.” The man said with a scratch of his head.

“Why do Othlon want to limit industrial development?” Will asked Ayliah.

“I cannot honestly say I am sure. There’s been rumors that there’s a huge collection of laws on copyright that Othlon has pushed forward as law, and there’s a lot of the issues that come with it. I am not really aware what the issue with.”

“Why do they want to control industrialization?” the necrontyr woman asked.

“Power. Money. Women? I am not sure. I can only think of a few reasons why anyone would want to do something like that. I am sure that there is some reason, but I can only think of four that are almost meaningless if considered because it’s a universal motive for anything: Power, personal gain, pleasure, and success?”

“Which banks profit most directly from the failures of your people to develop?”

“Othlon, I think. They have no reason to believe that development should happen outside of their doors.” The male treefolk said. “I mean considering this it’s an obvious way to ensure that your business thrives, by ensuring all other ones fail.”

“As a bank, surely it serves their interest to develop their customers so that the overall resource pool they can gain profit on increase...” the interrogator asked, confused.

“I am telling you why I think they’re doing it. I am not entirely aware why they’ve been doing it, but it’s been the status quo for as long as I can remember, and I’ve lived over four hundred years.”

“Which bank profits most from the poor?” Will asked Ayliah.

“Profit from the poor as in they help the poor or fleece the poor?” She asked unsure of what he was asking.

“Fleece the poor.”

“Deythr, is, but it’s a hardly relevant bank compared to Othlon.”

The same question was given to the others, of course.

“Errr… Othlon, I think.” The warrior said scratching his head. “Or Deythr, I don’t know.”

“I am not sure.” The Diplomatic Councilwoman said worried. “I...can’t really say. Oh god, please don’t torture me.”

“That’s okay, so long as we think you’re making an effort, tell me what your response to that question is...” her interrogator said.

“I don’t know, I onl/y really know of Othlon bank, and of course of Deythr bank.”

“Okay, tell me about Deythr bank.”

“Deythr bank hasn’t been around long, has been attempting to scrape by by taking from other people around. It’s not able to compete.”

“Tell me about their policies, what do you know about them?”

“They’re horrible price gougers and profiteers, the lot of them. They make it nigh impossible to keep out of debt. They make sure interest rates for loans are prohibitively outrageous.”

The questions rolled on, who was the business contacts with government, which ministers remembered dealing with the banks, both the two identified so far and others, and more, as the C’tani asked from a seemingly growing list of questions. Many names were given, with the financial councilman suddenly clamming up, knowing that he had quite a few people who he knew personally involved with the Othlon Corporation, and they also knew where his family lived.

“This won’t help.”

“What won’t help?” He asked as he remained quiet.

“It’s obvious you know more. You’re going to get your friends tortured if you don’t give me more, they’re telling us more about you than you are...”

“I don’t know.” He lied.

“Is there anything you want to tell me before we begin then?” the necrontyr interrogator asked.

“I don’t know what to say…” He said with a frown.

“Remember, we’re also taking these bankers into custody. You won’t need to fear them, you need to fear me.”

“I don’t fear what you can do to me. I fear what they can do to people outside this sodding hole.”

“We invaded your country. Do you think we’d stop with you?” she asked.

“You will probably kill me before you do that, but they will hurt people important to me before you do. I… I’m not saying anything regarding that.”

“You are wrong. Let’s see what we can find, I assume you’re talking about your family?”

“I have a wife and a son.” He said with an uncomfortable shift in his weight. “They probably think I am already dead.”

“I’ll start with the son, then, if you won’t give me what I want, you can always have another.”

“W-Wait, please, you can’t be serious.” He swallowed nervously. “Please they’ve done nothing. They’re innocent, all I want to do is protect them. You can surely understand. Please, just don’t!” He began to feel his eyes reddening as he struggled against his bonds furiously.

“I know he’s innocent. To be honest, you’re probably all innocent to a degree. But you have information that needs to be extracted, and therefore I am prepared to torture you,” she said, “do you think I would stop at killing?”

“Please, you can’t do this, I don’t… I can’t just.. you’re….I don’t know what you want from me. I can’t tell you anything without putting my family’s lives at risk, and if you are not told you’ll murder my family. I… you are monsters.” He hung his head in despair.

“I will do anything necessary. I will kill your family, if you make me, or I will order them protected. It’s up to you though, help me and I’ll help you, fight me, and you’ll lose everything. Look around you. If you don’t tell me, I’m going to have ten of your friends tortured, and they’ve all been cooperating, you’re the only one, I’m not going to go soft on you. Help me out and you help your family, and your friends, if you don’t, you doom them both. I will protect them if you help me.”

“I will...do what you ask…” He sobbed. “I am going to talk…” He began to name persons who he knew to be part of Othlon.

Will looked at Ayliah, as this happened, “We have no further questions. You and your friends made it, we’ll be taking you back to your quarters in a minute or two. That’s the first of about three or four sessions we think we’ll need,” it was much preferred to have the subjects get an easy first session where they were less inclined to lie, as it reduced resistance in the later sessions if they felt they could trust the other subjects. A lot of the information coming from the financial councilman was worthless as it was only coming from one subject, but he was talking nonetheless. By the time they began the next round of questions, this cadre would believe that their fellows had all told the truth, and thus they would feel that lying to their interrogators was betraying the group much more strongly than they would have before, increasing the pressure to conform considerably. The limited number of sessions was to give a clear end goal, to add hope to the reasons to answer truthfully. The Warrior was tired and he placed his head down and massaged his forehead with a flicker of his foliage. Ayliah was becoming stressed and her balanced lobed leaves were collecting on the ground. The Financial Councilman was emotionally devastated and began to sob and hyperventilate as he attempted to collect himself. The Diplomatic Councilwoman was nervous and she lied back and closed her eyes as her fingers trembled.

The necrontyr interrogator let the Financial Councilman up and held him as they were teleported back to his quarters, outside the Sky Gardens, a large aviary filled with colourful birds and bugs of all kinds in genetically modified trees that hung over a deep well. “Sit down and rest, Masatan,” she said.

“I cannot rest. I can never rest.” He said spitefully. “I am waiting now for the news that you have kidnapped my family, I am waiting for the news that Othlon has murdered my family. I am waiting to hear you dangle my child in front of me to torture me some more. I hate you all, and I hope you all die.”

“As well you should, we deserve your hate. But we keep our promises; we will bring your wife and child here, where they will be safe. We will not torture them, we will protect them. And we won’t use the information we’ve got from you until they are safe, so that Othlon cannot act against you.”

“Your… Your people.” he spat with utter disgust “They made a choice. They blamed us for every wrongdoing that exists in this world. Blamed us for enforcing the law, blamed us for not having enough money to enforce the law, blamed us for things private entities were in charge of, blamed us for things that there was no conceivable way to have control of with the power we had. They spared no expense. They turned our own military and our own protectors against us to have this story become the truth. They proved that no amount of greed was to be left aside. Those that would take this ‘gift’ would be the kind of men who would sell his own parents. Then you murder innocent people to prove your fucking farce. I shouldn’t be surprised, because that’s how war is, you can say whatever you want. It excuses every crime you have committed against me and my family and my people. You can make up whatever story you want: you can fabricate things, you can lie about history, you can exaggerate, you can glorify our flaws, you can demonize our deeds, you can distort the facts about everything you want. You can make up the truth and then kill us! War is written by the victors! When you kill me, I will laugh, I will simply say ‘this is what you wanted the whole time’. And now... now your people have the audacity to pretend to be kind to me, to try and threaten and imprison my family. You are truly disgusting people!”

“Yes, we are. That is true.”

“WELL I HOPE YOU ALL DIE. I HOPE EVERY VICTIM YOU HAVE MURDERED, EVERY PERSON YOU HAVE TORTURED COMES BACK AND FLAYS THE SKIN FROM YOUR BONES! I hope that you go home to find your wife murdered in front of you and I hope she cries out for you to save her as she has her throat slit. I hope that every inch of pain I feel is visited upon you and your loved ones manifold. I hope while you watch her bleed out in front of you that you remember this moment, that moment where you thought you could take everything in my life worth anything and destroy it and then somehow, somehow break me into some false toy to be played with. No, I’m spent, I’m done. I don’t want to be a part of your farce anymore. So stop playing games. Stop pretending you give a damn about me. Stop pretending you’re an innocent defender of innocent victims. You are a murderer, a torturer, a liar, you are everything that is wrong about existing on this fucking shithole of a world! STOP PRETENDING AND GET ON WITH IT. YOU ARE DONE TORTURING ME, SO KILL ME.” He began to fail in his words as he screamed incomprehensibly, language breaking down he finally felt his mind shattering.

She turned to leave, a little while later the equivalent of Carnien, Tyran of Llanthar, a human with a thin beard adorning his aristocratic face entered, “Was it rough?” he asked.

He didn’t speak, and merely muttered nonsense words.

“Masatan, what’d they do to you?” he asked, reaching out as if to touch him and then reconsidering, afraid he might hurt him.

Masatan recoiled and stood back as he leaned against the wall for a moment, freezing and going into a tree state. He merely looked like an ordinary mulberry tree in physical form.

“It can’t be that bad, they...” he paused, “Come on, I really am here to help you get through this.”

The Mulberry tree did not move and was silent.

The C’tani bent a branch down slightly, stroking his hand along the leaves, trying to soothe the tree and feeling a little silly.

The treefolk was animate for a moment, and he took the C’tani’s hand, and used the C’tani’s hand to snap off a branch, feeling a jolt of pain from it as the treefolk then reverted again to tree state.

“I have killed my family.” He muttered. “My wife and son.”

“I... don’t think so...” Tyran said.

“They’re being hunted now. It is my fault.” The treefolk said with a whisper.

“Whatever you told them, no one knows...”

“They’re being hunted now… and your monstrous people will kill them. It’s all my fault.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case, I’ll find out for you.”

“I’ve killed my family. For this I should die. I am a failure as a father and a husband. Why did I talk? Why?”

“Ask them to protect your family, tell them that you’ll help them more if they do...”

“I don’t want them near my family, they’re murderers and torturers. I want them far away from my family, but now that I have talked, Othlon Mercenaries will find them. Now that I’ve talked, Othlon Mercenaries will kill them. I tried to not talk, I tried, but then… they’re going to kill my family.”

“They’re murderers, but they’re rational. All they care about is information. I promise you they won’t kill or torture your family.”

“They are not rational. They knew we didn’t do anything. They knew...that we were weak. They knew everything, but even then… they killed our people, abducted us, tortured us, and now… now they will destroy my family, before executing me. You want me to ask for their protection? I want protection FROM them. I do not want them anywhere near me. I cannot bear to exist while my family is constantly under the same threat of torture, death and arbitrary abduction that I was.”

“That’s what it is to be powerless,” the C’tani said, “I think you understand now.”

[High Treefolk]

Vinimrond Company Town

The town of Vinimrond is five feet above the level of the Westersea which could be seen in the distance. The land slope was gradual, and has fertile topsoil over clay, then limestone. The clay was the source of the common brick manufactured by the Othlon to build housing. The brickyards were located west of tenth street, in the merchant’s district. Housing for the workers there were very substandard, and were often torn down upon the death of their worker. The facade of the buildings in the more elite parts of the town is made of goldenrod colored buff bricks. The executive homes also have limestone detailing and ornamentation missing in the smaller, worker's cottages. Around the area of the elites were beautiful landscaping with towering white elms, maple trees, ash trees, and linden trees. The buildings and grounds of the entire town were maintained by Othlon. Despite housing being substandard compared to their elite counterparts, quality of company owned and maintained housing were uncommonly good for workers. After all, happy workers would make more productive workers, and Othlon wanted to have very, very productive workers. Thus there was some ornamentation made of stone upon worker’s homes. Their pitched roofs were made of slate shingles. They had private personal yards, sheds and paved alleys. Those closer to the sea had their own docks where they could take their personal yachts out into the ocean for recreation. The alley served as access for vendors and trash collection which was a company service included in the rent. The Company paid the workers in store credits to be used by the workers in Othlon affiliated stores and facilities. There were purchasable items and goods in company stores, schools, boarding houses, clubhouses, and even temples. The company was omnipresent with signs supporting the purchasing of Othlon products, and of course Othlonian goods and produce which were unavoidable to its isolated workers, thus resulting in a monopoly by the owners.

Despite the strange and cheery day filled with sunlight and not a single cloud was in sight, there seemed to be an unusual desolateness of the company town’s streets. There were few people outside and many of the places about the area seemed to be nigh unoccupied. As the C’tani passed by the company owned library and the company owned drugstore, there were few treefolk who even noticed them. The bank slowly had people mulling about by it as the company logo was towering over the workers as they shuffled about before heading to the mines and refineries. The C’tanis were not addressed, nor stopped, nor inhibited. They would walk by a saloon where there seemed to be some of the only activity in the area, with treefolk cheerily drinking and keeping their spirits up. There was music and the smell of food as the uniformed workers seemed to be bearing a blue and grey garment that were either oddly flag like, or strange loin cloths. Some of the workers seemed to double back to return to the enormous factories in the distance. There were signs giving what seemed to be company loyalist mottos with handsome and beautiful treefolk depicting their prowess and virility along with family friendly messages that seemed oddly out of place. These signs and messages seemed to be posted on windows, walls, and signs. There were also strangely vaguely patriotic messages that seemed to be aligned with the company with oddly paternalistic messages. There were also newspapers that were left on the enormous benches that seemed to display the threatening depiction of necrons that were specifically made to make them appear to be monstrous creatures, and elves which were made to closely resemble twisted goblins. Despite that, the workers seemed to be unfussed by the necron’s presence.

The necrons that arrived arrived from the sea, unusually, heading up from the harbour, with a small column of vehicles, approximately twenty in all, some the gaunt and skeletal vehicles that necrons used, others the kind of more conventional things that were familiar sights to Alteans.

Riding on the side of one of these vehicles, Ruth ita Arrynmarok watched the company town slide past as they navigated their way toward what was believed to be either the police station, or more likely, some kind of sublet corporate security station.

There was a fuss outside of the station as a treefolk was tossed out roughly from the station, and the guards stood by the door dispassionately. They looked over at the necrons and then seemed to consider them fairly uninteresting sights and headed back inside the building. The other treefolk who was violently removed from the building was in a heap of pain in front of the C’tani and he looked at them and unlike the rest of the people around him, he snapped up quickly and bolted away in alarm.

Ruth stepped down from the vehicle as it stopped, looking at the treefolk as he ran, “We’re not here to hurt you!” she called, the unusual cloak she wore with her blackened armour clinking a little as she shifted, leaving her sidearm by her side. “You don’t need to run!”

“Look daft, do I? I’m not the smartest spruce in these lands, but I know a non-company gun when I see it!” The treefolk said as he pointed at the C’tani. “That can only mean one thing…” He said pointing at the cars.

“BANDITS! PARAMILITARIES… or… BANDIT PARAMILITARIES! OR… You’re not a raider are ya?” The treefolk asked as he waved his branches.

“No, we are the law,” she said, tilting her head to one side.

“Don’t know what the law looks like.” The treefolk honestly said. “But look, all I got is five and twenty gill. I haven’t got anything on me.” He said offering 25 gil to the C’tani.

“I’m not here to take your money, can I look at your injuries?” she asked.

“Are ya sure ya wanna touch me? They say blood on your ‘and’ll get ya cursed five times over.” The treefolk said as he was clearly beaten very fiercely before being thrown out of the security sublet.

“Perhaps, but I’ll take my chances, all the gods and goddesses after all,” she said, tapping a curious eight pointed cross on her cloak, moving a satchel around and taking a slim item from a side-pocket.

“What? I’ve not heard of things you speak of… but I s’pose if you want to get hexed, I could use the help.” He said as he approached and attempted to keep a careful glance at the strange outlander.

“This may hurt a little,” she said, swabbing a little sap from his injuries, “Tell me, why did they throw you out?”

“Think I’m mad, they do. Out for troublemaking and all. I swear, it’s as if no one is listening. No one at all.” He said with a wince as the wound was incredibly painful. “Arggh...Yeees… reminds me of my high school days.”

“What do you say to make them think you’re mad?” Ruth asked, taking her helmet off to get a better look at the wound, sorting through her bag for a moment.

“Been to the mines, headed there to see if the things they said were true, and I wanted to see if there were bodies of the dead carried out like the rumors said, but went in there, I did. There was no magicite in there. Just normal Ember Stones.”

“I don’t understand, why would that matter?” she asked, fetching a dressing and opening its sealed container, the exact model was actually copied from the Spireans, who had rather more experience in dealing with injured treefolk than C’tani did. She applied it carefully, covering the whole wound and then took a single sided sticking ‘bandage’ that directly clung to the bark almost like a band aid, but substantially stronger weighted in terms of glue, given the thick ‘skin’ of the treefolk, it became more practical for larger applications.

“Work in the factory, I do. I carry tons and tons of magicite daily for sorting between nethicite and auracite, work almost 12-13 hours a day with the stuff, and still I don’t see where they get all the stuff. I told the townspeople, and I reckon they kill people to make them! It’s a conspiracy, and I tried to yell about it in the town square and got slapped with a disorderly conduct charge and was beaten a bit.”

“That’s… an interesting theory. Perhaps you should write up a full account of it?” she asked.

“I have an internet blog, and… people think I am crazy. I think I got it marked with the ‘freak show’ and ‘blatantly false conspiracy news’ but I swear, I only tell the truth! Honest!” He said as he felt relief almost immediately.

She moved on to do the same elsewhere, “Well, why did you come here today if you knew you were going to be laughed at?”

“Someone has to learn the truth! I will scream the truth from the rooftops. If we are not faced with the truth, how will we stop them from murdering workers?” The treefolk flailed and squirmed at the pain, not attempting to hurt his caretaker, but he was a tree. She staggered slightly, as the treefolk’s limbs hit her armoured body, and she tutted slightly.

“Sit still,” she chided.

“It hurts…” He complained as he attempted to stay still but trembled from the pain.

“It will make you better,” she said, “There, done,” she added after a minute or two.

“So, what exactly is the Law, are you some sort of group of traveling mercenaries?” The treefolk asked blankly. “And priests?”

“No, we are the Order of Peace, well, I’m not, but most of my comrades here are, we’re C’tani. You know that you’re being invaded right?”

“What do you mean invaded? Oh, your company’s expanding into the area? That’s generally not permitted, it’s a company town.” The treefolk said with a raised eyebrow. “But I mean, if you wanted to expand your business into the area, I’m sure if you talk to the HQ of Othlon, they can arrange for you to rent a building or summat.”

“Err, no, the country. Not just Othlon.”

“Cool, are we going to be in movies? I mean, I don’t see what usually comes with invasions on films and in the wildlands and Altea. Loads of bodies, dead, screaming, famine, and all sorts of hellish things like dissecting living people or summat. I’m not all that familiar with an invasion here. It’s just business as usual. Why? Are you going to start with the dissecting living people? If y’are, I’d like fair warning at least.”

“I don’t think we are, no, I’m certainly not, wouldn’t be much point in putting you back together. You should clear the area anyways, we’re going to have a talk to the local security people, and that might actually go wrong.”

“I’d be careful with them, if I were you. I’d keep those guns out of sight. If you don’t got a permit they’re licensed to shoot you dead.”

“We’re the army, of course we have a permit, but seriously, oh, what’s the blog called?” she asked, for politeness’s sake.

“Veracity Volumes!” The treefolk said as he seemed excited that someone was interested. “After all it would be a rather nice change of pace for someone to be vaguely interested in its contents without making rude comments. I mean I swear I’ve some of the best news and content regarding all the juicy materials that are going on throughout Mystria!”

“I’ll take a look,” she said, “nothing about Altea on there?”

“Aye, I have a theory, which has been one that’s been on the minds and imaginations of all people who believe in my stories and investigations. I think, and you can quote me on this, that there are secret associations of Kashionites within the house of Lords which have been planning rebellion against their new established regency, and they intend to do so with ultra top secret facilities where they attempt to make ways to defeat the aliens and elves!” The treefolk said with a point of his branches. “C’tan are already aliens, we know this much, but we don’t know how alien they are! Most people wouldn’t recognize a C’tani if they were looking them in the face! Thus I have my guide to recognizing a C’tani Alien.” He said as he held out a few strange pictures of stereotypical alien photos from movies. “Accurate, I know, right?”

“Which C’tani do you mean?” Ruth asked.

“The Aliens of course. Which you you think I mean?” The treefolk asked as he tilted his head at an angle, wondering what else she thought he meant.

“Well there are C’tan, and Necrontyr, and Abyssals and Elves and Silicates and humans...” she said, teasing a little.

“What is a silicate? Are they strange beings with beady eyes and enormous bald heads with long claw like fingers with dripping fangs with poisonous venom coating every tooth?” The treefolk gasped at this new discovery. He took out a small notebook and began to immediately take notes and wrote silicate down and abyssals and necrontyr.

“No, they’re a type of emergent intelligence that exists in a form of black sand, and when dealing with other species, they tend to go about in semi-pressurised containment vessels called encounter suits, that generally make them look a little like robots...” she said. “Want to meet one?”

“They will not immolate me with laser beams like robots I have heard of, will they?” The treefolk asked as he took notes and wrote ‘little robotlings’ under silicates, ‘with minds of black sand’. “Because I am not all that into the idea of being immolated very much. They say if it’s not raining and so much as a little spark breaks out, you must stop flop and rollll around, perhaps even as far as a local stream, and there’s no stream here! Could I perhaps roll to the sea instead?”

“Err, no, not really,” she said, walking back to the vehicle and waving to a towering metal-faced figure, “My keen C’tani comrade Kantos Kal,” she said.

“Hullo there, fine Ser, I do expect that you’ve been faring well this wond’rous October morning? It is october is it not? Or… do your people use another thing, like those strange ‘month of the rat’ and the ‘month of the pygmy wastrel’? He asked as he was cycling through his notes. Alas, I know not what day it is, I have forgotten to look at the calendar.” the treefolk said as he took his notepad and began to make notes of the C’tani’s appearance including his ornamentation and color and shape of the steel figure, and he made a rough doodle of it.

“It is november, by that calendar, the third. Or thirty seven Quellë,” the creature said, “by the Menelmacari calendar, more commonly used by C’tani, on Earth.”

“Aye indeed, I am pretty sure… was not november the third month of the year? Wait…. no no, that was March I think… Hmm puzzling… Well it is an honor to meet you, Ser Kantos of Kal, I am Finius Blackbark. Well, I don’t really have a surname, but Blackbark’s the best I can think of! Can I perhaps solicit an interview, Ser Kantos of Kal?” Finius asked as he looked over at the Silicate with puzzlement and excitement at the same time.

“Why? I am not particularly important.”

“Your existence is of greatest import to the people of High Treefolk and the world even! I must ask, Ser Kantos of Kal, you to describe your family unit. You have a family unit do you not? Is your surname of the great Kals of legend? Speak of your ancestor the great Kals of old!” Finius began with his note writing in a fever.

“It is neither, it is a word noise selected so that beings dependent on language may identify me. I have neither ancestors nor family in the sense you mean, though there are other consciousnesses who have previously been one with me but are no longer.”

“‘Be one with you?’ do you p’raps mean a lover or a wife or husband of that nature? Which reminds me! Do your people express love heterosexually, asexually, bisexually, homosexually, or that sort by default? After all many treefolk do have the stamen and the pistil in one place, so that would make them essentially what humes call Hermaphrodites! So does that make us omnisexuals? Oh… I had not thunk it.” He wrote down an unrelated note to ‘investigate omnisexuality’. “Oh yes, and if you do have a default orientation, how do your people engage in sexual congress, and how do your people provide one another with sustenance?”

“We do not have a sexuality. We divide as potentiality. If I wished to be in two places at once, I would sever part of my mass to form two functioning versions of myself, and reintegrate later. While you exist as a discrete entity able to relocate among plants, and with a continuous consciousness, I exist as a potentiality of many consciousnesses within a substrate, which is the substance of my being, such division is not fundamentally reproduction, as the material involved in supporting a consciousness is not fundamentally tied to the being, I am a form of artificial intelligence, though broadly organic in mode and aspect, but with a higher data processing speed and transmission bandwidth than organic forms.”

“Wait, what now? I do not understand half of the words you said, do you divide something like a… mitrosis or My-osis or some such strange method? Oh, and you didn’t describe with what your people derive sustenance! Do you like water, food, breakfast cereals?” he asked as he took notes.

“Mitosis is an adequate metaphor, though unlike organic cellular fission, the process purely mental, and reversible in many cases, unless difference in identity causes incompatibility on reintegration, for instance, I have existed since the invasion of Altea in this form, and when it is done, as this occupation is done, I intend to return to my ‘parent’ and re-assimilate, returning my experiences to the whole and thus to the community of our people. We derive energy from function from several sources, depending on the function, for base operation, we are powered by thermal energy, which comes both from sunlight and thermo-kinetic interactions. For expansion, I take in raw materials and make more of myself by chemical processes at the nanoscale.”

“Right….” The treefolk said as he wrote a very important note ‘next time audio record, look up half of words in dictionary’ “You have a very unique accent Ser Kantos of Kal, have you learned this accent from a particular form of spoken common, or is it a native variant of common spoken in your lands? And… Perish the thought, Ser Kantos, from where do you hail in the vast C’tani Empire?”

“My voice is synthesised according to a standard deviation in personal characteristics from the Received Pronunciation C’tani Common, with male settings, I can alter it if you wish,” he said, switching gender and to a Treefolk accent. “Is this more suitable?” she asked, “I come from the southernmost tip of the continent of Haltha, on the planet Inin Ultra,” she said.

“So your people do not have a fixed gender? Fascinating! It’s incredibly remarkable. Lady Kantos of Kal, then? It’s proper to address you as such, then? Hmmmm… So you are called a Silicate, or so I am told, or is this a designation solely in common?”

“That is so, it is a common name, however, it is the accepted translation, my native language is a form of high speed electrical communication, and therefore cannot be perceived by most species.”

“I’m sorry, did you say electrical? So your people communicate in the same way that a Tesla Coil makes those sounds? Can you understand Tesla coil? My word, you can teach us so much. Are tesla coils alive?” The treefolk asked as he seemed to consider this an incredible discovery.

“No. I communicate much as a computer might. Tesla coils are not alive,” she sounded bemused.

“But I have heard them sing before once when I went to a internet search! Truly this must be something of magic or some sort, as I have not seen lightening make music, only fire and death and terror, so I suspected there must be language they speak! Alas, it would seem that they are not communicating anti-treefolk messages from some divine source. Though I suspect that they are still malevolent! It’s only such things that would make hell and terror for our people.” The treefolk said as he made a nod. “So, Lady Kantos of Kal, Is there a system of honor your people have that is similar to the human and treefolk one?”

“Define your meaning for honour? Do you mean a code of behaviour, or do you mean a recognition system? In both cases the answer is no, except in that we generally subscribe, for practical reasons, to the C’tani versions.”

“So your people do not adopt your own personal set of mores and folkways which could be said to be an accepted set of morality? Most unusual!” The Treefolk asked as he also made careful note to keep his mind open, as there were all sorts of strange aliens in existence, he could not expect that they would all share treefolk ideals or perceptions.

“Would you like for me to forward any comments to my readers and subscribers, Lady Kantos of Kal? Perhaps words of wisdom from your people?” The Spruce Treefolk asked as he took careful glances at the other C’tani making note of any unusual persons of note.

“We are here to assist you, do not be afraid of us.”

“Your well-wishing and reassurance shall be perfect as an addition to the part in which you shall be described. Thank you, Lady Kantos of Kal, and honor to your people as they may prosper and be happy and the likes. May you return to your… original form unharmed!” He said attempting to find a form of well-wishing that wouldn’t be so terribly ethnocentric. He did consider himself to be an accepting and cultured treefolk, after all.

“Thank you,” Kantos said, with a nod of the head unit of her suit, before heading toward the mercenary station.

“You should stand well back,” Ruth said, taking her carbine and following, fixing her helmet back on her head.

The sublet was still well guarded and the treefolk nervously stood back as the Ctani proceeded toward the station. There seemed to be no immediate response.

Kantos opened the doors, entering with a group of the Orderites behind her, readjusing her voice synthesiser back to the default he’d been using, as they entered.

“Hello, and welcome to Vinimrond, Can I help you?” One of the greeters asked as she approached the C’tani and seemed to have a board of appointments and a computer from which to make careful appointment and board notices.

“I have here an order taking possession of all company assets within this town. I require the cooperation of all staff employed as security services.”

“Certainly. Do you have a government order, or is this an uncoordinated attack on Vinimrond itself?” The woman asked making note if it were the latter, she could perhaps notify the insurance company so that they could be recompensed, and if not, then she would still write a notification to the government for recompense of lost goods.

“Here,” he said, and presented a small folded paper from a pocket under the thistledown robe that draped his suit in a deep grey a facsimile of a C’tani government document, complete with various symbols and icons on it, signed by Patrast Ardeshir Jenasen Meyer ita Nihilakh, nationalizing the Othlon company and all subsidiaries and businesses, in the name of ‘the Great Civilization’ and soliciting full cooperation with the agents of that state

“Very well, are we to file a notice for recompense to you, or to your superior officer for lost wages and lost goods?” The woman asked as she began the shift immediately, typing up a termination of employment notice for each employee with a sickening feeling of unease.

“Why would you do that? You are not being fired,” Ruth asked, eyebrow raising. “All existing employees will remain employed on the same wage until a full assessment is completed.”

“Well presuming that all company assets are being nationalized it would include all available credits which would be going into company employee wages, and at the moment we have about 4,000 employees who are expecting their pay, which of course goes into company store credits including but not limited to food, water, medicine, and the likes.” the woman said with a raised palm. “If we are not being fired, then we can perhaps discuss what changes are to be immediately implemented on company policy?” She asked as she notified security to cooperate with C’tani personnel, and to immediately help transport personnel work with the repossession of any goods on site.

“Well, really we’d like to see the management of this town as soon as possible, it’s their jobs that are at risk, not the workers’.”

“I regret to inform you that Mister Calmus is not in, perhaps I can offer you a contact number and an email address which you may use to notify Mister Calmus immediately for his change of employment notice?”

“When did he abscond?” Ruth asked.

“Three weeks ago on a business trip overseas. He was said to arrive this sunday, but he did not return. Perhaps he is overstaying in the location he was said to be working in.” The secretary said with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you know where he went?” she asked.

“I was informed that he has made a trip to Kashion, and that he would be discussing with an important business client in Carceno, and would return after the Month was up, and he did not arrive back. His escort awaited him and we checked for delays in Carvahal, but none were announced. One of our boys waited at the airport all night, and didn’t get a notification of his arrival.”

“Are his accounts frozen?”

“They should be, as should any treefolk beyond the country should be if I remember correctly.” The woman said with a raised eyebrow.

“Good, what’s his full name, so we can have that checked?” Kantos asked.

“Calmus Orun” She said as she made note and offered an identification card issued by the company and an enclosed photograph along with his resume and cover letter. “We include any and all Ministerial Confessions if you need those as well, but Calmus was not a religious man.”

“Ministerial confessions, as in religious?” Ruth asked, sounding offended.

“Yes, of course. Othlon provides Pastoral Services, what do you think we are some sort of monsters who deny religious services to our employees?” She asked seeming offended more by the notion that they had no priests at all.

“Shouldn’t the religion be independent?” she asked, “I mean, what religion is it, even?”

“Lireanism, and it is the most popular religion in the region, of course. And no, we do not permit independent religious services for health and safety reasons. Why if there were Xyrosians within we wouldn’t let them perform independent fire orgies after all. People would die! We allow them instead to conduct carefully monitored services within company grounds to guarantee our workers a healthy and safe work environment!”

“Religious freedom is not a priority around here then?” she asked.

“Responsible religious practice is, of course. Freedom to harm is no freedom we’re willing to permit. As is company policy with regard to religion.”

“That’ll be changing, such nonsense is illegal.”

“Which part, the monitored religious services?” The woman asked as she seemed to consider this an odd point. “And end up like those nations which legalized Violetism?”

“No, the regulation of religion except in as the law allows is, naturally, forbidden. You can videotape what you want, in your own church, though data protection regulations apply, I guess...”

“Such regulations exist as a matter of company policy.” The woman said with a raised hand as she looked over the material and offered it to the C’tani. “Only one confessional visit it would seem.”

“Let’s take a look then?” she asked.

“Here you are, there’s an AV room over there in the corner. Shall I lead you to it?” She asked as she looked over at the room and approached the C’tani.

“No thank you, who’s currently in charge?” she asked.

“Currently everyone except for crucial employees have been kept on, and only Syrax is currently in charge, but he’s not anyone really important, he merely is in charge with the local security. The majority of operations have been shut down with the proposed invasion.” The woman said with a shrug. “I don’t know if it is a threat to be taken seriously in the sense that we were informed, but I suspect since you have not terminated any employees thus far, it can’t be entirely bad… unless of course we’re ordered for something worse than unemployment. Which is hardly conceivable.”

“No, but, I do have a question, but I’ll need to talk to Syrax first, before we look at the management of this place.”

“Very well, Mister Syrax of No Name is on the third floor.” She said with a gesture to the elevators. “Please let us know if you get lost.”

“Please come with me,” Kantos said, gliding toward the elevator.

“Very well.” She said as she followed along and headed toward the elevator and hit the button for the third floor. She waited for the bell to go off as she entered the elevator as it opened, and it was enormous to accommodate a person twice her size. The woman then hit the third floor button inside the elevator and the bell went off three times before she stepped out the open elevator door and spoke with her still professional tone of voice. “Right this way, please.” She gestured to an area where she knocked on a door three times.

“Excuse me, Mister Syrax, you have a visitor who wishes to speak with you regarding important information with the company security.” The woman said as a male voice came out from the door.

“Just a sec!” He shouted as he opened the door and greeted the secretary with a smile and nod of his head. “And who might you be?” He asked the Robot, not entirely sure if the thing was sapient or instead a remote communications device.

“I am major Kantos Kal of the Order of Peace,” he said, “I am here to discuss security arrangements under the new ownership.”

“Sure, is this a transfer of responsibilities? As I could use a break. Since the Boss has been out it’s been a mess, we’ve had bandits come in just about every other day, and it’s got the employees and execs running scared from this place. Used to have over six thousand employees, and now we’ve got maybe more than half of ‘em left. I’m not doing so well on this leadership thing. I am sure you have some arrangements, don’cha?”

“Firstly, you should see this,” he said, producing another copy of the nationalization order from before.

“Right, so we’re answering to you now?” He asked with a blank expression. “Are we getting fired?” He asked with a panicked expression on his face.

“No, no one is getting fired, if anything you’re likely to get a raise. But I need you to brief us on what your people have been doing lately, you mentioned some raiders?”

“We’ve slowed the magicite production over the past month, and we’ve been focusing instead on other industries and as a result we’ve been having layoffs. There’s been unemployment and desperation, and after they’re ejected from the town, they resort to petty banditry, and mug people around the town and among other towns. The trouble of course comes from the fact that I think we’re generally easy to overwhelm. It’s a small town.” Syrax said calmly. “We’ve advised our personnel merely to surrender in cases of muggings so they escape with their lives, and naturally we have insurance pay out the losses. Call out the banks to cancel cards and credits so that the bandits are locked out.”

“You’ve laid off a huge number of people in a month? I take it their homes are sitting empty?”

“Those are company property, and the furnishing and stuff is still there. They’re not empty at all, but there’s no one living there.” The guard captain said with a smile. “It’s ready for new workers if they qualify for Othlon Employees.”

“Well, you should let the employees back in, and stop collecting rent.”

“Will your people pay the rent for those employees?” The Guard asked.

“We don’t need to, we own the company? Eventually we’ll make them homeowners, of course.”

“We’re not a charity, we need to know that we’re not going to be penalizing the workers who have already been working their fair share. We can’t pay for their homes on their own, we need to be sure that you’re going to pay for their rent, or the government if that’s the case.”

“No, you don’t understand, I mean you should stop collecting rent off anyone.”

“Well those are deducted from their wages, as is the medical and health insurance. It’s all covered and taken from their wages. Should we also stop paying for their medicine as well?”

“No, just the housing. Is that a hard concept?” Kantos asked.

“Yes, as it seems just a strange proposal. Why would we merely just not collect rent? The company generally collects them as a collateralized debt obligation and people whose rents are paid well make a good profitable enterprise.”

“Okay, who owns the housing?” Ruth suggested.

“We do, the company pays for it in the sense that it is rented out to the employees who work here.”

“And who owns and manages Othlon?”

“You guys. But you are going to just pay for the rents then?” The Treefolk asked. “Those rents are already owned by investors in the company.”

“Who have just lost their money anyways, so it hardly matters,” Ruth said, “It’s not real gil anyway is it?”

“They’re store credits. They are worth more than gil.” The guard said with a tilt of his head.

“Okay, you know what, I’m going to leave this to the area manager when he arrives, but you need to get those people back into civilization, sooner, rather than later.”

“But what about the bandits?” the guard asked.

“Those bandits, yes, don’t prosecute them unless they’ve actually killed someone.”

“What about assault?” The guard asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not if it was done in the past, if it’s done going forward, yes.” Kantos said.

“So all assaults are to be forgotten, then?” The treefolk asked.

“If they’re done by people the company has driven to live in the wilderness, then theft and theft with violence is entirely justified by the circumstances.” Ruth said.

“Against innocent workers?” The guard asked.

“They are all innocent people.”

“The workers were assaulted by bandits, and regardless of their hardship, what they did was wrong. They hurt innocent people and for everyone who became a bandit, there were four who didn’t and took a profession that didn’t include beating someone for their money.”

“Let me be clear,” Ruth said, “this is not a discussion we are having. You are receiving orders. If you do not like them, you may resign.”

“I would rather not, but you’re hurting the workers. This is a bad business decision.” He said with a deep sigh. “You are free to do whatever you want, but I am tasked with keeping order, this is, in my knowledgeable advice and experience in the area, a bad idea. You are free to disregard me, but doing so has consequences on morale.”

“Whose?” she asked, confused by the suggestion that she should care.

“The guards, and the workers. You’ve invited people who beat them and stole their money to come live with them in their neighborhood. Known criminals who have caused chaos for the people who live here, you think they’re just going to stop beating people and taking their money? You’re naive.”

“Did I not say you can still arrest them if they assault anyone when they’re here?” she asked. “As for business sense, that’s not important.”

“If you do something it has consequences for everyone in the company. It hurts us all if you make a decision that is short sighted.” He said as he picked up his phone and dialed the proffers and collections to drop a message to stop collecting rent. As a result he would have to offer termination of employment for the collections personnel and a few others involved in rent accounting.

“There is more, too, but you can wait for the new manager to arrive,” Ruth said.

“Right, this is going to be a painful transition, I imagine. This is not going to be well without cooperation between corporate headquarters in C’tan and the people on the ground.” The guard said as he sighed. “Hello, This is Syrax, and we need to discuss rental and collections. From this moment, we are to freeze any and all collection of rent from any tenants on the grounds. We will also need to restructure the department. Employees are advised to keep their resumes on hand.” he hung up.

“Tell me about your medical and hospital situation here.”

“We have about six hospitals and about eleven drugstores, and they are all affiliated with Othlon. They accept some private insurers, but they are primarily those who take Othlon’s insurance plans and the Green Caduceus program.”

“The Caduceus is not a symbol of medicine,” Ruth said, almost reflexively, “Six hospitals for seven thousand people? Are they tiny clinics?”

“Yes, they are several clinics, but they are meant to also get the overflow from the other neighboring villages.” They also were needed in various ways and for various reasons. The numerous injuries and various high fatalities also proved that they were needed.

“I’d like to see one, as soon as possible,” she said.

“Are you hurt? Were you or your comrades attacked by the bandits?” The treefolk asked startled. “Let’s get you to the one closest then.” He said as he pointed on a paper map. “Fifth District, the hospital is called Lirea’s Light.”

“No, I want to examine it, I am fine, thank you.”

“Oh, that’s good, for a moment there I suspected you were attacked or your people attacked. Had to toss out a lunatic earlier. Ranting and raving about something in the caves he was, I think he might have been better off going to the psychological clinic.”

“Yes, I met him before. Couldn’t make sense of what he was saying,” she said.

“That’s because he’s crazy.” The guard said waving the idea off. “Tried to fight a few of my boys as well. Didn’t end well for him.”

“Okay, let’s go,” she said.

“Before you do, there’s one other order that requires issuing,” Kantos said, “we require that all prices of goods on sale in company stores be frozen effective immediately until a review can be held.”

“Very well, ser. I am not sure I am the one to issue said order but I can call someone who can.” Syrax said as he reached for the phone and he looked over at the C’tani. “Good luck at the hospital, then.”

The way back outside was of course, clear. Some of the guards were keeping watch over the area and the secretary was waiting down in the lobby on the first floor. Outside, Finius was looking at the C’tani and seemed relieved that it didn’t seem to erupt in violence. He waved over at the group with his notepad tucked on his strap bag. He seemed to head south and the hospital that was closest was to the east.

She waved at him, as a pair of orderites in grey-green cloaks followed her, “Resilient, you treefolk, aren’t you?” she asked, looking at him.

“You could say that. We’re kind of on the edge of ‘not having much of a choice’ I gotta get back to work, or I’ll get canned.” Finius said as he looked over at the C’tani. “Where are you all headed?”

“Lirea’s light, apparently, the hospital,” she said.

“Oh… well, I need to head over there to head back to the refinery’s office. I wanted to thank you for helping me, but I was getting tied up with the fact that I am going to need to get back to work. Good luck at the hospital, My Lady!”

“Good luck at work, any problems, come find me and I’ll sort them out for you,” she said, waving.

“I’ll be sure to let you know!” He said as he headed down the street and the C’tani seemed to meander through the empty desolate streets. The enormous complex seemed to have a small side compartment that had a symbol of the Goddess upon it and it said Lirea’s Light and it had a few people waiting in line who were being kept in the sunlight for their health as a nurse was waiting outside.

“We’ll get to everyone, please be patient.” She said as she was checking the vital signs of an injured worker.

The human woman looked on with bemusement, for a moment, until she worked out what was going on, watching the nurse as she went about her rounds.

“Alright, I think we have a broken snapped limb here. MOVE HIM UP!” She shouted as the other patients seemed to be irate.

“I’ve been waiting for hours here!” One of the treefolk flailed angrily as he attempted to get the nurse’s attention.

“Coming!” She said as she began to check his vitals again. “Fever, perhaps more serious than it was an hour ago. Move him up!” She shouted as the others began to just leave.

She raised an eyebrow, not wanting to interrupt, but wanting to help, eventually the latter instinct took over, “Hello,” she said, walking to the nurse. “I need a moment of your time, urgently.”

“Are you hurt? Let’s take a look then.” She said as she immediately took out one of her disposable covers for her thermometer which she prepared to insert in the C’tani’s ear. “This won’t hurt at all, it’s just to see if you’ve a fever and to check your blood pressure.” She said as she reached to touch the C’tani’s wrist to feel the pulse and time it.

The wrist was completely covered in the metal armour plate she wore, of course, “No no I’m fine, I need to know what kind of help you need here, though,” she said.

“Hospital in the town across from the bay ‘as gone and shut their doors, and we’ve got the overflow. Something about executives fleeing the country or summat, and ‘not wanting to incur extra losses’ or something. It’s got the people quaking in their boots, but me and Anselm, we don’t care if we get paid or not. We’re fucking physicians and medical assistants, if we don’t care about the patients, then who will?”

“You will get paid, I’m here with the C’tani,” she said, waving to the guards with her, “And we need to know what assistance to give you, do you know why that hospital shut?” she asked, “the management just left?”

“Aye, and at first we thought it was a managerial strike until they fled the country, now we just think they’re attempting to avoid being caught by the invasion and leaving the rest to us. Well good riddance to ‘em.”

“Right, we’ll have it up and running as soon as we can,” she said.

“Well, I can’t say that I am surprised, but at the same time I can’t say that I am going to jump in glee, because again, I don’t know if it’ll be soon enough. Already overflowing here and I don’t want to think of Barnabus’s on the dockside. Eych.” She said as she was applying field dressings upon injured workers.

The C’tani woman started to help, without really considering what she was doing, “Are people coming over on boats or?”

“Aye, or they walk. Which is the case of some of these poor sods, which means people like the fellow I was treating before, came walking from miles and miles away on a broken limb to get here, only to be told to wait in line.”

“Did you say that only two of you were working here?” she asked.

“Only two, because Barnabus had us send the other six doctors we’re working with elsewhere to the other side of town.”

“Right, do you need some extra manpower? We can probably help at least as orderlies?”

“Sure, that would be some help at least, see if you can help us speed this line up while I check on how Anselm is doing on that surgery.” She said as she entered the building. The group of people seemed to look at the C’tani with confusion and seemed to be curious as to what they were doing while the first patient was showing the C’tani a horribly deep injuries.

“Okay, Loren, I want you to hold his arm up and...” Ruth began to give brief orders to the two with her as she took out the small amounts of medical supplies with her.

[High Treefolk]

The Central Meeting Hall

The treefolk country’s air was burning to Bryan Da Silva ita Frith, whose reaction to it was to retch immediately upon disembarking. He was aware, of course, that it was not mortal pollution, or at least, not the Ash Wastes of childhood stories, and even now could feel his lungs adapting, a feeling not unlike a benevolent kind of cold as filtration mucuses were deposited, like many C’tani humans, and those from the Mictlan system, he had excellent genetic and cybernetic alterations, none directly visible, but enough to make his body considerably more resilient in small ways. He did not blister, but callused neatly and quickly, he had rarely had to worry about disease or infirmity, and had once healed a broken ankle within a week. But, he was also quite unused to the toxic air of this place.

He walked with several colleagues, under escort by hulking necrons in the gunmetal and green of the Sautekh Dynasty, toward the building, appropriated for his meeting with the local nobles. No doubt they would be profoundly annoying, and he hissed through his teeth, trying to expel the warm smoke-salt tang of the smog from his trimmed black beard. The nobles were currently in a state of unease, but at the very least they retained their festive and decadent façade which they enjoyed to retain, with their minstrels playing music and one of their jesters portraying a fairly racist portrayal of the ‘black eyed Tor’ which the treefolk nobles found incredibly amusing. It consisted of a Tor actor wearing dark brown eyed contacts while another jester took his feather tipped rod and essentially whipped the actor, his acting was only mildly inauthentic, in that he would laugh and jollily do acrobatic tricks as he approached one of the Treefolk nobles. The ‘dark eyed Tor’ jester posed a question.

“So how many of your own children have you sold upriver today?” He asked the treefolk noble.

“None, you scamp.” The treefolk noblewoman laughed as she covered her face with a peacock feathered fan over her face. She wore a beautiful gold and pearl decorated ebony hair pin which held in place among many beautiful gold and silver combs. “I have a good family, and they’re all doing well.”

“Ain’t none of you get this fah’ without sellin’ someone upriver. So who was it. Was it yer auntie? Yer great grandmum Marlé?” The fool asked as the other fool slapped the fool with the feathered stick.

“Such impudence, you’re not supposed to talk with noblewomen that way!” He said in an obviously constrained manner, suggesting that he was not actually angry at the other fool. “Don’t you realize you’re going to get in trouble?”

“But Marklef, ye know as well as I do I’ll git in trouble anyway, and it ain’t like half of these biddies have their real hair anywah!” He said as the other treefolk nobles laughed at the fool’s impertinence. It was okay, obviously, because he was a fool.

“Ladies and gentlefolk, your attention please!” Bryan shouted, as he entered, with all the social grace of a bulldozer.

“Well lookie Marklef, it’s our glorious overlords!” The fool said with a warm bow. “Shall I lick your boots Messere? Or perhaps shall your asshole be best?” The fool said as the other fool hit the other fool with a feathered stick in turn.

“Come now, Barat, you must greet our overlords properly. You must offer to let him walk over you first!” The fool corrected and he nodded his head enthusiastically as the nobles laughed a bit, and Marklef extended his hand to bow before Bryan.

“Go and start looking for new jobs,” the C’tani said, irritatedly.
.
“What?” Barat asked dropping out of character for a moment. “What’s goin’ on then?”

“This room was supposed to be set out with chairs, as a meeting room, I see your employers have decided to redecorate,” he said. “Chairs. Rows. The lot of you. Now.”

“So… I’ve been fired?” Barat asked his manner changing entirely as his skin paled chalk white and Marklef seemed to clear his throat.

“And my… have I also been fired?” Marklef asked more than a bit worried.

“I’m not your employer, I can’t fire you. But you’ll find this lot won’t be able to pay you soon enough.”

“I… don’t know what to say to that.” Marklef said as one of the fiddlers stopped and looked over.

“Are we in trouble?” The minstrel asked as he seemed to be attentive to what was going on as the treefolk noblewoman cleared her throat.

“What’s the meaning of this? I heard we were to assemble here, and somehow we have threats against our minstrels, jesters, and bards?”

“Put the chairs back, and it’ll be over quicker,” he said, walking to one end of the room and looking at a table of refreshments, “Someone clear this table.”

The servants began to quickly move as the nobles didn’t lift a napkin to aid or assist any of the servants in the slightest. The bards also took time to assist and move the chairs in place, hoping to avoid actually getting fired and perhaps change the C’tani’s mind.

He lifted the table, with one of his assistants, setting it out in the middle of the room’s end, setting several books from a bag on the top of the table, and black folders with golden titles. He waited until the room looked more like it was supposed to, and sat down, while he did so, “Be seated!” he announced.

The nobles sat down, and seemed to be as the C’tani would imagine them. They wore furs, silks, brocades, and beautifully embroidered clothing with impressive jewelry of silver and gold. Watches with incredibly expensive hooks with diamonds and rubies upon studded brooches and cufflinks. There was a certain amount of attention that they were paying, and they seemed to be distant in their demeanor, and looked over at the servants as if they were utterly beneath them, their attentions focused entirely upon the C’tani for as long as he spoke. One of the women opened her hand fan, her satin glove daintily touching it and withdrawing it from her pocket as she unfolded it and waved it in front of her face to offer her respite from the sense of awkwardness in the C’tani’s total lack of manners and good breeding.

When they finally sat, he looked at the servants, “You may all leave, if you wish,” he said, “Only the invited guests need to attend this talk.”

“You sure you wouldn’t like some sort of refreshments or entertainment, Milord?” One of the servants, a steward asked worried by their abrupt dismissal.

“I suppose I could manage a squash of some sort,” he conceded, looking at the nobles with a kind of contemptuous indifference.

“It shall be done, Milord, a squash Herrin.” The steward said as the servants rustled and quickly procured a squash to offer to the C’tani.

He held a ring over it, turning it on his finger so that its ornamented upper face pointed down at the drink for a moment, before he seemed satisfied and set it beside him, “People of Priority Taxation Cadre Two!” he said, standing up once more to get a better view.

“Would that be us?” One of the noblemen asked as he chuckled at the strange manner of address. “Your people are rather unique in your interesting… decorum.” He said as if he were addressing a lesser man.

“I am proadhil Bryan Da Silva ita Frith, and I will be giving you this orientation talk today. You shall be glad to know that those of you who are here are those who are, at the current time, not slated for detention or prosecution.”

“That is encouraging.” One of the treefolk men said with deepening sarcasm. “So what is this orientation talk about?”

“As you know, your territory has been annexed by the Great Civilization. That means of course, that it falls under the same governance rules, broadly speaking, as its parent nation,” he said, “foremost among these, at least as far as you need concern yourselves today, is taxation.”

“Right, the taxes shall arrive as is expected. What manner of tribute shall your people require?” One of the Earls asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The primary form of taxation used by the Great Civilization is a ground rent on all privately held land, payable by the owner, excluding residences and certain religious institutions, as well as modified by agricultural and other special uses of land.”

“Right, so how much are we talking about?” The Earl asked as he seemed to be prepared to make an unpopular decision of raising taxes levied upon the residents of his land in order to make up for the loss he was accruing.

“The value is assessed based on the unimproved value of the ground occupied and claimed, and is typically around four percent per annum, of that value.”

“This doesn’t sound so bad.” The Earl said with a raised eyebrow. “So from this four percent per annum of the value of the land.”

“Ignoring the first half acre a given person owns as residential land, approximately,” he said.

“Okay then, well enough…” The earl said as he calculated in his head how much he would have to raise the local rents in the area to make up for the value of his land.

“You are taking this rather well, it was my understanding that you would probably be a relatively capital poor group...” Bryan said.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to make up losses, with raising rent estimates.” The Earl said with a shrug.

“Oh...” he said, “I perhaps should have started with that, you may not incorporate such an amount on rent or other charges to tenants to pay for it. You are personally liable, as landowners, to pay. The cost of rent is affected by the price-freeze declared for this region.”

“It’s my property, thus the rent I charge is to my discretion. If I must, I might have to evict tenants in order to reset the prices locally and that would be terrible because my tenants pay on time. Charging more is something that is necessary to keep the land in good shape with this new tributary tax.”

“Ah, I don’t think you understand. You can only evict tenants after submitting a proper form to do so citing the particular grievance against them you have, with evidence, and then after a due period of notice and inspection. It may be your property, but it is also subject to control and legislation for the common good. You’ll find the point is to prevent large scale landowners from deriving a primary income from owning land.”

“‘I cannot afford it’ is proper grievance enough. I can find new tenants who will pay more to make up for the loss. My land is valuable, and it’s still my property. You cannot simply declare your standards for ownership of my land. I can use whatever desires to my disposal. Who are you to tell me what I can or cannot do with my own property? If I so desired I could salt the land and make it utterly useless, but it would be my right because it is mine not yours.”

“If you did, you would void your claim to it, and be fined five times the cost of repair, or five hundred times the cost of land rendered unusable on a long term basis. I am a Proadhil of the Sub-Department of Civil Revenue Collection, here to instruct you in the law.”

“So in short, you are stealing our land?” The Earl asked with a candid tone of voice.

“Taxation is theft. I am rendering you liable to taxation, or to be more precise, I am here to advise you of how best to survive the process.”

“I shall speak to your superior, or perhaps since this is direct threats upon my livelihood and my property, I shall appeal to capintern for subsidy as is my right. It’s my land, and your taxes are an attempt to subvert my private ownership.”

The C’tani leaned over to one of the folders, opening it and consulting it briefly, “‘The C’tan Senate retains absolute authority over all activities of Greater Prussian agencies within its domain as per its status as an Aquilar Realm.’ If the senate endorses your petition, then it may go forward. I think that unlikely, however.”

“I do not believe you, and I shall speak with Alexander Kazansky himself.” The Earl said with a shaking of his head.

“Private association is your right, of course, however, you should be aware that gifts of what are I’m told called ‘the scam piles’ are assessed as depreciative to the economy and any such funding would be reduced to a face value commensurate with the transfer in actual wealth involved.”

“I would get to keep my land, and I would not lose my livelihood. I see this as beneficial to me. The other effects are of less concern to me.”

“I don’t think you understand. Capintern funds are not legal tender,” he said.

“So Menelmacari Credits have no value here then?”

“The treasury of Menelmacar has historically regulated the amount of credits held by Allanea. And retains the option to remotely zero such funds if used for economic chicanery. Their loss to you in the form of a payment is separate from the enormous figures you have heard quoted of Prussian funds. Alexander Kazansky has on the order of billions, not quadrillions, of credits.”

“What happened to the rest of the Quadrillions that has been kept from the constant collection of dues over time from member nations?”

“Wasted. On yachts. Or piled away as gold, or paper. It has the value given to it by the economy of the nation it is spent in, like any currency. And we are far too experienced to be bilked by such tricks.”

“So any such funds to be given to us by our allies in Greater Prussia and Capintern is rendered without any value simply by being affiliated with Allanea?” The Earl asked blankly and he raised his eyebrow. “This is likely to start conflict with the Allaneans and the Prussians! Deliberate warmongering.”

“The phrase ‘monopoly money’ has been openly used by our leaders of such funds to them in the past for over a thousand of their years. I am confident they know already. They could certainly bail you out. But it would cost them, it would hurt economically. They would not be permitted to pay in the vast funds they got for say, tricking some fools to buy real estate. That money was printed off from nations that no longer exist in many cases, and was almost certainly money-printing in the first instance. The Capintern funds, and their relatives, have been subject to hyperinflation since long before the Ethereal Shift.”

“So the value of the money is nigh worthless now?” The treefolk asked with astonishment.

“Why do you think they are keen for you to feed them more money when they already have so much? Gil has value, not much, but at least some, to sure up the supply.”

“Are you serious? Gil has more value than an Allanean credit in the Greater Prussian funds?” One of the noblewomen asked with horror written on her face.

“A millicredit has more value than a gold brick in the Greater Prussian funds. If they shipped you groaning boats full of their gold, it would do nothing but crash the value of gold, and you’d start paving the streets in it and repairing rooves with it. It only retains value if you leak it out slowly; you have heard of the tales of some diamond companies keeping the best stones in vaults to keep the value high?”

“So…. it would make the entire economy crumble?” The Viscountess’s jaw dropped as she had a look of shock and desperation on her face.

“This is why the senate passed laws rendering such funds valueless before the law, shortly after the ringworld incident. Menelmacar already had them after the communists tried something similar in the days of the World Business Organization, which formed the template.”

“There must be a way to retain our own land and keep the value of our estates without having to resort to some sort of merchantry. This is blatant theft of our property!” The treefolk shouted with his face purpling with rage.

“Well the international value of gold won’t be reduced. We wouldn’t have to spend it internally. We can export it and then retain the value of our property. Thus being able to keep our land.” One of the treefolk barons said with a raised eyebrow.

“The gold is already valueless, because we know approximately how much the Allaneans have, and have rendered it illegal to sell or represent it at above its actual value. Such attempts would be uttering, a crime.”

“If it’s still gold, how can your petty senate bill affect trade with non-aligned C’tani nations. It’s still gold and has value, even if your senate declares otherwise. Other nations can and will buy it at its value.” One of the Baronets expressed as he raised his fist.

“You have heard of fabricators, I hope?” he asked. “Machines that make almost anything you ask of them?”

“I have heard of them, but are they not illegal to export?” One of the treefolk asked.

“They are. As is running off five hundred tonnes of gold and exporting that. Passing Allanean gold not accredited as originating in a third nation is considered equivalent. You would be arrested.”

“By whose authority do you arrest people for freely trading goods and exporting goods not affiliated with C’tan and its declarations of ‘valueless gold’?”

“You are all C’tani now. This is the C’tan. It is by the authority of your government.”

“So it is illegal for C’tani to sell Allanean gold to non-C’tani affiliated nations?” One of the Baronesses asked blankly.

“It is. It is illegal for C’tani to sell gigatonnes of silver to foreign nations too, or to duplicate foreign cars. Real gold, that is to say, accountably mined gold, is considered a product under copyright, for much the same reasons as copyright exists, to protect the greater economy.”

“This is nonsense.” One of the Viscounts said with a dismissive wave. “This foreigner cannot presume value over objects in the High Treefolk, and cannot declare that we are their citizens and then steal from us.”

“Subjects, not citizens. You must earn that right.”

“I am not subject to you. I do not accept your bigotry against Allanea, and I don’t accept your authority nor blatantly arbitrary attempts to limit our ability to trade with people at our leisure.”

“Do you rebel?” one of the necron warriors asked.

“I don’t accept your authority. Get stuffed.”

“Ahem,” Bryan said, “I am sure you don’t mean to say that you intend to work against us,” he said.

“I am saying I don’t believe any of this bullshit.” He said with a tossing of his handkerchief at Bryan.

“Could you explain that gesture?”

“What’s there to explain. You insult me. I do not wish to hear your words any longer.”

“You should leave then. Those of you who don’t fancy either emigrating, or destitution, which I assure you, is now a real prospect for all of you, should stay.” The nobleman left and was heading out as he stomped out of the room and watched the others stay behind without regrets.

“More fool him, I’ve not told him how to register his claims yet...” Bryan said as he went, “Let me speak honestly, I don’t bear you guys any great enmity. Your titles are meaningless, to me at least, but your people aren’t evil, you aren’t irredeemable, but you are too rich. You can’t remain this rich and not have a real business...”

“The fact that we have managed to get this much money in our lifetimes comes from every efforts of our ancestors and from every effort they took it was so we would have to work less, and now you would deprive us just so that we can be forced to work because we have money? You are slavers.”

“Then you confess to slavery yourself by suggesting that allowing others to be poor or taking money off them against their will is slavery. Stand clear so my comrade can get a clear shot at you.”

“You have no claim to my property, and those who has had their money taken thus far has been a charge for having used someone else’s property. What you are suggesting is merely that because I am rich you are entitled to steal from me. This is wrong, and you are using my heritage and my possession of wealth as a weapon to force me into working. There’s a world of difference between my claims and yours.”

“You are subject to the same regime as I am, and as the poorest Treefolk will be. You are here because you’ve been identified as a group who will need help coping with the new system.”

“Coping with the new system? You have declared openly that you will be stealing from me and from my property only because of the hard work which has originated from a long line of wealth accumulation in my family’s heritage, and further declared that the only reason you are doing this is so that you can force me to work. This is slavery.”

“You can make payments if you like, and then keep your property? I am not taking anything off you, merely telling you that you have to pay to keep it.” Bryan said.

“Pay for my own things? I don’t need to have to pay for my own things. They belong to me, and you have no right to charge me for simply owning it. That would imply that it is not mine, but yours, which is a lie. It’s my private property.”

“It is, however, the land belongs to the people collectively, and you must pay to keep your stuff on that land. Naturally, you can move your stuff off it.”

“It doesn’t belong to the people collectively. It’s mine and I own it, I merely rent out my land to other people. I am being a host to other people, don’t mistake my renting the land out to actually allowing other people to own what is my land and my property. What socialism is this?” The treefolk spat as he shook his head. “This land is my land, and it does not belong to anyone else.”

“The socialism of Thomas Paine, I dare say,” he said, stroking his beard, “But more importantly, it is the socialism of your country. The Great Civilization. If you had wanted to build a legitimate state here before, you had plenty of time to do so.”

“I reject your claims, I am not somehow ‘paying for my own property’. This is stealing of my property. If we’re going to get to hardballing, it is within my rights to evict every tenant in my property, because it is my property, and mine alone.”

“I thought I’d explained, we give tenants rights in this country. If you break the law, you pay in blood or pain.”

“Tenants are not entitled to live on my land. They are not entitled to my property. This would imply that my property is not my own, and otherwise if we buy your claim, I am entitled to charge the tenants for living in my property to whatever degree I like to pay for living in my property. You can’t have it both ways.”

“You have a covenant with them. You are an oathbreaker and criminal if you evict them for no reason. Their tenancy is underwritten by minimum legal conditions they cannot sign a contract to waive.”

“Their covenant with us is only as such that they agree to follow our rules to live on our land. I can freely evict them if I am looking for new tenants or I wish to resell my land as I so please, because it is my right as it is my property. I can also evict tenants if I want to put something else there instead, like a great statue of my penis. It’s my land, thus I can do so.”

“Legal minimums, remember?” Bryan said.

“What is a legal minimum?” The Treefolk asked in utter confusion.

“You can’t evict tenants without a good cause, and in the case where it’s because you can’t make your taxes, you can’t evict them at all, but instead the land ownership lapses to the tenant, and you end up with nothing.”

“And then they have to pay the 4% of the value of the land that they have?” The treefolk asked blankly. “And they become the owner of my land? How is that fair and just?”

“It’s not your land any more, though, it’s unclaimed land, and setting up a domicile on unclaimed land constitutes staking a claim to it.”

“So I can set up a domicile on the land and it becomes mine again?”

“If you live there, yes. And you get an acre free of tax.”

“That makes no sense at all.” One of the other treefolk said blankly.

“I think this is an attempt to nationalize our property.” One of the elder treefolk said with a shrug of his shoulders. “There’s no use fighting it.”

“No, it’s not. Nationalization is what happened to Othlon.”

“It is the same. You’re taking away our property and essentially forcing us to pay for it in addition to that. You are essentially making it unfeasible to own more land without allowing us recourse to pay for it using our own property to do so, the only reason this is possible is because you’ve taken our property at ransom.”

“Of course you can use your own property to pay. You can’t pass the taxation cost on to tenants, lodgers, servants or others though.”

“This is a logical step, by increasing the price to rent the land, or decreasing wages of workers who work on the land in order to cover the losses because the land doesn’t increase in value. It only slowly loses value, thus without raising rent, or lowering wages it becomes unfeasible to actually use one’s own property to pay without actually just selling the property in general.”

“That’s what you’re looking at. Also, if your homes are particularly noteworthy architecturally you can get a larger estate exempted provided it operates regular tours at least four days in six...”

“You mean like opening our houses to the public? What tomfoolery is this? My home’s not a museum to be gawked at. It’s my home, and owned by my family and my family’s, family before me.”

“Well, really you’ve got to get money somewhere. You should sell your lands, piece by piece, to make each year pass, but either you’ll have to work, or you’ll get cut down to your own homes.”

“This is hardly an option.” One of the nobles said with a frown. “I am getting that this is leaving us with only the option of working forever or being deprived of our homes. This is cruel and disgusting. This is our lands, I don’t understand where you get off taking everything that belongs not to you, not to the tenants, but to us, the landowners.”

“It belongs to you, provided you pay your taxes. You do not have the money. Not for long.”

“What have you done to our money?” One of the nobles asked with a terrified expression.

“Nothing. But you are nobles. Capital poor, land rich. You have money, but not nearly as much as you think you do, and of course, there is the matter of your tax incomes.”

“So you’re taking our land, AND our incomes?” one of the nobles asked outraged.

“Rent is one thing. Taxation is another. The people of High Treefolk are now blessed by the protection of the Great Civilization, and none but the government may levy taxes upon them.”

“What about surcharges?” One of the Nobles asked.

“You’ve got to make them really optional.”

“What do you mean really optional?” The treefolk asked.

“As in if you apply a surcharge it must be for an additional service the tenant requests and can and knows he can refuse.”

“For any and all utilities upon the properties?” The treefolk asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Likewise you can’t refuse free competition of utilities to the end consumer...”

“How can I not? Am I not entitled to refuse services?”

“If he wants to change telephone or water or electricity supplier, then he can arrange it and make minor adaptations that do not damage or reduce the value of the building...”

“Those would not make ‘minor adaptations’ those would require altering the entire infrastructure. I move that there be a right to refuse services, because we would be paying for them, not the tenants.”

“Obviously they have to pay. But in most cases those are small alterations the provider will pay for.”

“Being that it is our property we have to pay for it, not them. They merely reap the benefits of our property and payments. Thus it is untenable that they’re entitled to any of our land or considered owners of our land.”

“It is your property, but its upkeep is not governed solely by you.”

“Yes it is, it’s why it’s our land.” The treefolk said with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t you know what land ownership is?”

“I am explaining how it works to you. Because from now on, it works differently than you imagine.”

“What is different? Are we not responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of our own land? Did the buildings built by our ancestor's power no longer belong to us? Do we have no responsibility in keeping and preserving what is ours now that our land is stolen from us?”

“Quite the opposite, you have more responsibilities. You must provide certain services to your tenants, now, and failure to do so allows them to withhold rent, however, they also get to make some alterations on their homes within the boundaries of good taste.”

“So wait, we have to pay to maintain the property they live in, pay all the services, and pay for all the utilities, but we cannot charge them more on rent, and in addition to that they are able to withhold rent for our not providing those things which they do not pay for?” One of the treefolk asked utterly gobsmacked.

“Welcome to your new world. Where being a landowner is itself hard work, and unprofitable.”

“No, this is where you are robbing landowners, and stealing land to give them to tenants.” The Treefolk said spitting.

“Making life easier for the tenants, yes. That’s what it’s all about.”

“It’s an invasion, is what it is. They take and appropriate what is our land and then profit from our land which rightfully belongs to us and charge us for it.” The treefolk said with horror.

A chime sounded, and Bryan leaned back in his chair, “I’ve got to take this, a moment please,” he said, listening, and nodding, “Interesting,” he said, watching the treefolk squabble.

The treefolk argued over how they would be able to maintain their prosperity amongst themselves for a while as Bryan took his phone call and they continued to debate on the morality of this change of their livelihoods uselessly grousing against their own situation. The anger was not such that they were willing to fight over it, and being treefolk as they were, they attempted instead to come to terms with their situation. The Goddess was patient, and endured all hardship. They’d have to learn to endure as well.

“Thank you,” he said, at length, as he looked for the earl who’d suggested capintern before. “News for you. Our government has issued a notice stating that we are no longer members of the ‘Greater Prussian Empire’ alliance. Good riddance to that if you ask me.”

“So we’re not actually part of the Greater Prussian Empire anymore, and are not allied with the Allaneans?” The treefolk asked with a blank expression. “How?”

“We are allied as part of VERITAS, but not the Prussia thing.”

“What is the VERITAS alliance’s terms and conditions and how will they relate with our desire to seek Prussian aid?” The Earl asked with a confused expression. “And how did the Greater Prussian alliance fall through?”

“The C’tan Senate withdrew, which withdraws you, as a C’tani territory.”

“Can we, as a private entity apply for entry or are we barred membership entirely?”

“No. Corporations attempting to usurp state prerogatives are granted independence, and then made war upon, or at least, that’s what’s likely to happen.”

“There will be no rebellion tolerated here,” the necron reiterated.

“Very well.” The Earl said resigned for a moment as he sighed deeply. “There is nothing more we can do then, we’re to live under the yoke of oppression, it seems.”

“With only your large estates and glittering gold to comfort you?” Bryan said.

“You are stealing it from us.” The treefolk said with annoyance. “By actively oppressing us.”

“Not really, you could probably live out your lives if you are smart and listen to me, without ever knowing want.”

“But we will be deprived of everything that rightfully belongs to us. That itself is not understanding what knowing want is. It’s trivializing our losses. We are not mere commoners in which having a small home for living is actually considered worth something. We have entire generations worth of cities and enormous marches which are a measure of our outstanding breeding and achievement, and you would deprive us of that and make us live the lives of paupers.”

“You can fit a quite decent residence into an acre, and live like kings from the proceeds of selling your lands.”

“Are you out of your mind? None of our actual residences actually fit on an acre of land. This is ridiculous.” The treefolk said with a dismissive wave. “Ask how much land I have on my estate.”

“Which is why I suggest you make it a publically accessible private museum, get a bit of tourist revenue, and get to keep it as a functioning estate, or you know, pay taxes. An acre is the tax free area, not the upper limit you can have.”

“I have an eleven acre estate, fuck you very much. I would have to open my house to strangers. My house, the one I live in, in order to get you to not throw me out. So I cannot think of this as anything but robbery, thanks.” The Earl said infuriated.

“What’s next to that estate?”

“Farmland.” The Earl said with his face still screwed up with rage.

“So you are probably talking about an unimproved value of around three thousand credits per acre at most, so about thirty thousand past the first acre, or in gils, seven hundred and fifty thousand, divide by twenty five and you’re talking about having to pay one thousand two hundred credits a year or thirty thousand gils.”

“What are gills?” The treefolk asked confusedly. “Do you mean gil?” The treefolk asked as he then raised his eyebrow again. “Are you kidding me? That’s a lot of money per year.”

“How much are your actual lands, everything, worth?” he asked.

“I have over 11 acres if that’s what you mean. That was merely including my home.” The treefolk stated blankly. “If you mean the whole girth of my ancestral lands, then I am betting that this is going to be even more of an insane number.”

“I mean the whole lot, in worth, not counting your actual estate where you live, probably over twenty million gils - gil?”

“I have over thirty hectares of land, ser.” The Treefolk said with a deepened frown.

“So... I thought you were a massive landowner?”

“I was, I have had already to sell a lot of my ancestral lands to merchant bastards, and now you.” He said with his emotion betrayed in the deeper reddening of his bark.

“Of this remaining five or so hectares not including your estate, how much is actual farmland?”

“Almost all of it.” The treefolk said with annoyance.

“So you’re talking about about seventy to eighty thousand gil a year in tax.”

“That is ridiculous.” The Earl said with a frown. “But I will have to do what I must to preserve what is left of my homelands.”

“Can you not make that much on the farmland?” the C’tani boggled.

“We’ve had trouble getting the workers to keep the farmland as productive as it needs to be, with some land becoming fallow very quickly.”

“Without wanting to seem racist, they’re treefolk workers, how can they not be good at this?”

“The peasantry is lazy and shiftless. It’s astonishing we pay them at all for their utter lack of ability to perform on the work force.”

“That’s easy to fix, sell them the land and keep an interest in their business and they’ll work much harder when it’s their land.”

“I am not rewarding them for their utter failure to perform, if anything I should fire them all, and hire new workers, but I have patience. I am a patient man, and the Goddess has blessed me with ever more powerful endurance in the way of bullshit. I only hope that I will be able to withstand the bullshit flung from the sky now by annoying presumptuous C’tani.”

“Also, about that stuff about how you’re not commoners?”

“What about it?” The Earl said with annoyance.

“How does that actually... work?”

“What, you mean how I don’t have to work?” The treefolk earl asked with a blank expression. “I hire advisors and I also ensure that the land is worked by proxy. It’s still my lands and I am free to live a life of leisure as I desire.”

“No, I mean, the whole nobility thing. I mean, I get how the feudalism thing works, but you guys don’t have that, you’re just... some rich guys with extra names?”

“We have better breeding and are social superiors to even the richest merchants?” The Earl said as if he was confused by the question.

“Better breeding? You mean you’re genetically superior?”

“Well, yes, and we have hereditary titles.” The Earl explained as there was a murmur of agreement.

“Superior how, though? You don’t look any better than other treefolk...”

“We are the elite, and we are entitled to enforce our own systematic charges for the use of any of the items and services on our land, we have a seat on the way to succession, we have superior education, we have superior genes, we have privileges among ourselves and over the non-nobles. We have ceremonial duties and are of better and more noble breeding in our manner and conduct than the lowborn.”

“I mean what about your genes is better?” he asked, waving the rest away.

“We’re intelligent, strong, beautiful, magically blessed, and of superior builds than the lowborn?”

“Are you though?” he asked, “You seem to be impoverished in what was your own country by the merchant class.”

“That is primarily because of their moral unscrupulousness. Anyone who is born a merchant or becomes a merchant is among the lowest of the low. They live their lives by deceit, and they do not even make their own wares like an artisan or a farmer. They are the leeches of society and thrive upon deception and their ability to be as immoral as possible.”

“Fascinating. I trust you rate bureaucrats as your superiors then?”

‘Generally, they are among the most moral of people. They as well as civil servants deserve respect. The Merchants however are perpetual worms. I only hope you kill more of them.”

“Well they do seem to have caused most of the trouble,” he said, smiling a little.

“Obviously with their debt practices. It should be obvious that this was the case. Merchants are scum.” One of the treefolk noblewomen said with a sneer. “But this is inconsequential. We are still rather miffed at being targeted for this witchhunt.”

“You’re not being targeted. I’m here to tell you how to survive, it’s a tax system that is the same for all.”

“Oh that is bullshit, anyone could tell you that. It’s targeted for the people who have more property.” One of the younger barons said with annoyance. “This is like saying, ‘oh we aren’t targeting people with brown hair, the fact that we shoot them more than everyone else has less to do with their hair color and the fact that they are not carrying less brown hair cards.”

“Of course it is, but it’s not targeted at treefolk landowners. It is targeted at trade unions as much as it is at you, too...”

“Oh this is crazy talk, I don’t hear about you charging a union tax. Just a land tax and on our own homes no less.”

“Unions tend to be bulk landowners, too...” he said, “though so much not ours, to be fair.”

“We aren’t either. Therefore I am confused at this statement of targeting unions when all you have done is punished landowners.”

Bryan shook his head, and facepalmed.

“What?” The Earl looked over at Bryan. “Are you quite alright? Is your head hurting?”

“Way to miss the point. The tax isn’t directed at you guys, it’s directed at any landowners.”

“We’re being targeted over other petty landowners, which is why we have more tax than anyone else.”

“Actually the banks have to pay immensely more tax than you. You are priority taxation cadre two.”

“So secondarily targeted, how comforting.” One of the other younger barons said with an exasperated sigh. An older viscount cleared his throat and the younger barons and other nobles paid attention to the elderly man for a moment.

“It’s done. These gentlemen are bureaucrats from the C’tani lands and have come to assist us in retaining our prosperity without losing our dignity. You have all lapsed in your respect due to your emotional connections to something that no longer exists. You should thank the Bureaucrats, and then we will do what we must to survive the changes.”

“Ah, thank you, mister...” Bryan said, leadingly.

“Gionor.” He said with a tired sigh. “But it is due to remember the respect of the persons who have come very far in order to help in this administrative task. While we will no doubt suffer changes, this is inevitable. We have allowed the merchants to overrun us, and thus in our dishonor we must deal with the consequences.”

“This man speaks sense, and you ought to listen to him,” Bryan said.

The younger earl sighed as he bowed his head in respect to his elder and nodded. “Very well, I will do as commanded, but I don’t have to like it.”

“That’s a good choice.” Gionor said with a nod of his head. “In the meantime, I would like to thank Mister… I believe your name was…”

“Bryan of Frith, a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

“Viscount Andreth Gionor of the Eastwood, and likewise a pleasure to meet you, Ser Bryan of Frith. I do hope that your frustration is merely from the clamor of the younglings as they are not likely used to having to take their own work for its own ends. While I sympathize with their sentiments, it’s long said and done.”

“I don’t really blame you, certainly it must be a nasty shock. But it seems like you were tolerable rulers by the standards of the time until the eighteenth century, better, considerably, than your neighbors, but you definitely dropped the ball somewhere...”

“When we taxed Merchants and Banks less.” One of the younger women said as the others began to laugh. “But yes, I agree that we will have to endure likely more troubles, but this is our way.”

“Well, no one really wants innocent people, regardless of how rich or poor they are, to suffer... I’m shocked by the unproductivity of your land,” he said, “is... that typical of farmland?”

“No, hasn’t always been like that. There were times when it was fruitful and had much reaped from the bounties of the harvests. Things have become more difficult however. There are sometimes clouds of dust, and it comes from the areas upwind of us. Dumps the dust, and some say it is the water underneath. I’m not crazy enough to test this theory. I import and buy water and use it rather than using wells. This is still something that costs a lot of money, and there’s of course the malaise of the workers.” The young earl said with irritation. “I don’t know if it’s entirely their doing but some of them either bring up subpar crops for collection or they’re often sick or unable to work long periods of time.”

“So, pollution then? We’ll be working on that - that’s part of what the tax money will actually be spent on, even.”

“I’m not entirely sure if that’s all it is, but I’m fairly sure this is one problem.” The Earl said with his branches folded and intertwined as if he was thinking of something. “It seems as much a theory as anything else. But, I cannot say for sure if this is the case.”

“We will certainly investigate and do what we can to deal with that,” Bryan said, “There’s no reason to allow any business to pollute essential agricultural land.”

“I’m not sure though, I am still going with my ‘ineffectual peasantry’ theory.” The Earl said with a smile. “But I suppose it can’t be bad to eliminate any potential pollution that is affecting my lands.”

“If it is a staff problem, you can always find legal ways to deal with that too.”

“Like what?” The Earl seemed to be interested in this suggestion.

“Training, equipment, motivational bonuses?”

“What’s a motivational bonus?” He asked confusedly.

“You know, where you pay people extra for doing good work and exceeding the mode productivity?”

“I already do that? I mean generally if people aren’t doing well it’s not fair to give someone money for a crappy job when they do better than the others.”

“No no, that’s docking pay, I mean paying them more than they would normally expect to get for their regular wage.”

“Hm? Well, yes, isn’t that what you do when you pay people more for good jobs, and less for crappier jobs?” The Earl asked.

“If you add an additional element to pay to reward performance it motivates people to perform better.”

“Like what? I mean money seems like motivation enough.” The Earl said in confusion.

“Right, if you got paid to do some work, suspend your disbelief, what would motivate you to work more than the minimum you need to?”

“More money?” The Earl asked.

“You want to get more out of people, you can do so, often, by offering to pay them more.”

“Well I already do that, but there’s only so much more I can pay people.” The Earl said as the others seemed to shrug.

The nobles seemed to be glum, but their spirits had not been as inflamed as they had been earlier, with much of the fire in their bellies sated by the painful realization of their utter helplessness. There was no way to fight further, and the only way to handle this was to accept their situation and hope they would be able to alter it in the future. A few treefolk among them still believed they’d be able to weasel their way out of the problem, but there was only so much that bribes could offer.

[The Ctan]

The executives of Othlon, and other banks, were getting a kind of treatment that was substantially worse than that enjoyed by the Gathering, with the majority of them confined to the vast interior of Satari the necron ship that had been in overall charge of subverting the military. This had worked not at all so well with the corporate security, who had better pay to begin with, and a better understanding of the likely consequences of defecting. The same general procedure was followed, however, and the interior of their cells were narrow grey-green metal spaces, with a combination bed-toilet unit and nothing else to distract from the constant bright but artificial lighting. The treefolk was slowly becoming conscious as he attempted to understand what could possibly have happened as he had lost his sense of time and place and woke up in an utterly unfamiliar location. The treefolk remembered vaguely the entering of the intruders, and that the security teams had been alerting the treefolk bankers that there had been trouble. There was little indication that there would be anyone who could get past security, but the treefolk was now unsure if something had happened with the security failure. He suspected some sort of toxin, but there was little indication that the intruders had full understanding of real infiltration upon the treefolk, nor knowledge of their biology. Perhaps poison gas of some sort was used, but he was still unsure and attempted to get a chance to examine his cell. He headed toward the door and attempted to find a handle. Naturally, there was no such thing, the door consisting of an inset piece of metal, only the fact that it was recessed into the wall made it clear that there was a door, as there was no evident seam or join in its manufacture.

“Good morning,” a voice said, “Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

“I would ask the very same.” The treefolk said as if he was talking about the weather, and he knocked on the door a tad to see if it was actually a door and if it was hollow on the other side. “But it does not matter.”

There was no sound of it being hollow, “You could, but without any leverage. You on the other hand, will be answering questions if you want to eat.”

“What manner of question? I don’t presume to know anything that is of use to you, especially since I don’t even know who you are nor what you want. We could of course clarify that first, and then perhaps I can do something for you.” The treefolk said as he muttered to his self “built into the wall. Not a door it seems. Where’s the door?”

“Oh it’s a door,” she said, an image appearing behind him of a dark haired human woman, with blue eyes, calculated to be a little disconcerting, dressed in a C’tani military uniform with crimson rank pins behind him. Moment by moment it seemed to become more solid, until it looked real a second or two after creation, “Would you like to get out?” she asked.

“It hardly looks like a door. Looks like a part of the wall, something just for decoration. It is not as if I can imagine that this is actually a real door, there is nothing on the other side.” He said still facing the door as he then noticed something behind him. He was startled as he had not noticed anyone with him before and thus he jumped back and hit the wall in alarm. He seemed to be similar in appearance to a maple treefolk with his foliage hair containing wide lobed leaves which were bright green and his hard bark-like skin was dark brown and he had a tie around his neck where two enormous branches extended outward and they knobbily moved in front of his face, which seemed to show more irritation than fear. His eyes were bright green, with his sclera being an even lighter color of green. His pupils were hardly visible.

“How did you get in here?” He snapped angrily.

“I am here. I am the ship you are on, to be precise, a necron vessel. Now, I’ve answered your question, I want you to answer mine, what’s your name?”

“You’ve only partially answered my question, shall I then only partially answer yours then? I am called Oldor.” He said perhaps a bit more uncomfortably. A necron vessel meant he had been captured, and he had in fact witnessed the failure of his security team. He sighed outwardly and attempted to scrape around to see if there was a door and annoyedly reached up for the light and attempted to knock it about with a balled hand and clumsy motions.

The light was built behind a hexagonal grid of metal, a flat light emitting panel. “Are you feeling foolish, Oldor?” she asked. “I don’t like it when people damage me.”

“It’s bothersome… it’s too bright and it is bothersome. If you don’t want to be damaged, then fucking dim the lights. It’s annoying…” Oldor said with a frustrated tone.

,

“Or I could do this,” she said, and making it actinic, infusing it with the exact spectrum of natural sunlight.

The treefolk sighed in relief as he climbed back over to where he had originally woken up and sat down comfortably, pretending to disregard the C’tani ship mind in the room. He lie down for a moment and then began to whistle, not sure what the C’tani wanted other than his name, but also wanted to say nothing as well.

“Now, what’s your surname? Is it Ansatra? A nice name that, rather like a necrontyr one.”

“Since you know, I do not see why you ask. Do you not retain the Othlon personnel files?” The treefolk asked surprised that she had asked.

“Okay then, something less obvious; can you tell me why you’re here? Hazard a guess.”

“I cannot presume to know. You have already frozen and nationalized my personal assets, at least those here and those currently accessible. So I cannot imagine what you desire of me. It’s not like I have something to give you, thus you could be more honest and inform me of what you actually want from me? I mean, this would be the smart thing.” He said as he seemed to be rather calm, but less irritation was apparent than before.

“No, why do you think we’re doing this to you, not what we want from you. Why?”

“Because you can. This is an irrelevant question, but I suppose you are like me and used to ‘yes’ men. You want your ‘lessers’ to confirm what they already know and what you already know. For emphasis perhaps. But quite frankly, you are doing it because you have power over me.”

“Not an adequate answer, I mean the moral reason. Why am I treating you like a prisoner, instead of merely turning up and letting you be a good little treefolk and soothe my ego?”

“Because you can. You think again that saying this is going to change anything? It’s the same answer. You desire power over someone who is powerless. That’s rather pathetic actually.” He said with a chuckle. “But you know, I can understand why you do, it feels great doesn’t it? That power. It’s more than just a rush, it’s being given the ability to decide life or death. That is even more thrilling than you can ever imagine. So tell me C’tani, are you going to kill me? Is this why we’re here?”

“Do you know how many people have made that argument to me ‘you’re no different’ but you are, and I am, and the only reason you want to say that is because you do know and you don’t want to admit it.”

“Oh please, don’t expect that this pseudo self-comforting bullshit will in any way convince me of otherwise. The only reason we’re any different is because I have taken more steps than you did to ensure that power. Some less acceptable than you would. I have looser morals than you do. That’s why I am here. I’m not unware that what I’ve done is evil. I am a treefolk, we’re more aware of evil than you’d ever know. But this is something that you are incapable of fathoming. Evil in some way is like the beautiful candle that attracts a moth to a flame, when there is power to be had from reaching it. It would seem that I have finally caught aflame, but I have no regrets.”

The door opened, a group of necrons behind it, “Out you go then,” she said.

The treefolk looked confused for a moment, but resigned. He approached the necrons and politely gave them a bow. “Greetings gentlemen. I suppose you are to lead me?” He said rather courteously, as he didn’t seem to be all that worried. He cast a smile at the ship mind and gave her a wave before allowing himself to be taken where he would go. He was not sure where.

They led him through a labyrinth of similar cells, other groups going this way and that to similar, before finally leading him into what looked like an elevator, but lacked any sense of motion, the doors closing, and opening again, a much broader corridor leading to a conference room, quite tediously normal, with paintings on the walls and a broad window, or what looked like one, looking out on the moon high in a night sky.

Several C’tani sat around it, two necrontyr and an elf, dressed in black robes, at one end, and a group of others at other seats, his own was a larger, tree folk scale construction, into which they forced him, locking his wrists onto it.

“Welcome,” one of the black robed judges said, quite boredly, “This is your hearing, so you should be aware that everything you say will be considered. If you’re not aware already, you have been arrested as a slaveowner, in the country of ‘High Treefolk’ by virtue of your involvement with the management or ownership of the...” he paused, paging down on a metal scroll, “Oth-lon? Othlon, corporation..”

“Pleased to meet you, Ser.” The treefolk said oddly affably. “I have been aware I have been under arrest long before this moment, I was under arrest from the moment your people joined Greater Prussia, and at that I say good show, I am pleased. It’s been good fun.” He said with a bow. “Right, so, I will admit everything I have done wrong if you need it. I suppose confessions are far more useful than generally railing against you, and to be honest, I am tired of running from you. It’s about time I honored my opponent.”

“It is much appreciated,” the elven judge said, “I am Rimbecáno, and will be asking most of the questions. Can I ask you why you’re being so cooperative?” he said, “It seems unusual...”

“Because what I have done is unforgivably evil. It’s quite obvious isn’t it? I mean, I know now why I did it, but I just haven’t been able to pull myself away. I suppose there’s at least merit in confessing wrong. Especially to one who is going to assign to me my ultimate fate.” Oldor said a bit surprised by the question. “But this is… generally unimportant. The idea of your people is to establish guilt, and I admit I am guilty. Why should the motivations behind what I am doing matter?”

“They matter for our information, but if you wish to confess, could you please start with what you would say is the most evil thing you have done?”

“You mean aside from enslaving children before they are even born? Well… I supposed filtering money into Canbor would also be another horrifyingly evil thing I have done. I think it was the same reason I filtered it into Othlon, however. I am sure you know what Canbor Pharmaceuticals is?”

“I have an idea that it involves selling addictive drugs to children and prepubescent children at that, and testing drugs on the poor, including the Altean poor?”

“And the Elves and Hylians. They were also tested, as there was merit in it.” The Treefolk said with a twitch. “If I didn’t see them personally it did not affect me, so I was able to do it. It made me incredibly rich and powerful, so I didn’t see the problem. I just… it was wrong, I know, but I couldn’t just sit there and languish.”

“What can you tell me about Canbor?” Rimbecáno said.

“Started out as a normal chemical engineering company, focusing on making pharmaceuticals that could heal and others that could be used for industry. They were doing fantastically, and it was perhaps about a hundred and two years ago… or maybe longer that they managed to create a wonder drug. It was called Ether, and it gave people the ability to recover their magic without pushing magi into fatigue. The use of ether was fantastic, but it was also, as we discovered, addictive. The more you take ether, the less it recovers your ability to cast, and you need more ether to do your spells. They would push themselves to their ultimate limit and they’d have to continue to take more and more.” The Treefolk said with discomfort. “The magi soon began to die from spell fatigue, or much worse.”

“I take it that this is still in widespread use?”

“Yes, it is. It’s also still manufactured as a ‘wonder drug’. It’s also one of the more acceptable drugs that Canbor made, the kinds that are now sold are even worse, if you can imagine that.”

“Is there a counter-agent or less destructive alternative?” the judge asked, expecting that such a thing would be suppressed if Canbor knew about it.

“Of course, we have had several agents that have been tested upon the poor for ages. We’ve found that there was a kind of Ether we were able to make, it is called ‘Turbo Ether’, but it has none of the addictive effects. Naturally in order to continue to keep pushing yourself to exhaustion and keep taking Ether is still unhealthy, but we’ve known for a long time now how to make it less ineffective in such that one would need to more to have a lesser effect. We however retain the patent, and we do not make our patents public for obvious reasons. The same with another kind of potion we created for emergency physical recovery. We have potions that essentially are addictive and they’re sold to major hospitals. We have had a potion that could easily recover a person in a single shot, but it is unprofitable to release this patent, so we don’t. We call the potion ‘X Potion’, named by the biochemist who discovered it, but as we have said, he has less profit in releasing the formula as it would destroy the industry.”

“Secret patents for medicine?” one of the audience said, “What manner of debased nonsense is this?”

“Who has access to this X potion and where is the information kept on it?” The judge asked, ignoring him.

“Exdeath would have it, and he knows the formula, and the information on the formula along with many others are kept on his person in a small blue ray disk. One of the first things Canbor had done when you joined Greater Prussia was to destroy information on the patents. Failure to destroy the information and availability of the X potion and the Turbo Ether would be punished by death, not by the government, obviously, but it is how it would happen. The Local police can barely protect themselves. There’s nothing preventing executions by the companies involved. Public even, as the locals are too afraid to oppose the companies involved.”

“Who is this Exdeath personage?” Rimbecáno asked.

“President of Othlon Corp. He has been gone for many years, we speak to him from a distance. No one knows what he really looks like as his face is always covered as is his visage. Not even I know what he really looks like, nor his real name. Exdeath cannot be his true name, and I suspect that it is a way of him to retain his anonymity. He is, however, a genius. This much everyone already knew.”

“You are a major shareholder and you don’t know his name? Why did you make him president, and retain him as such?”

“He was a very private person, and Exdeath was his name to us. We never asked questions about it because we presumed he was lowborn, but at the same time he was brilliant. Too brilliant to turn away. He was incredibly charismatic as well. None could see a reason to refute him or to refuse investments in his works or products because they worked. This is precisely why we made him President. No one questioned it, it was considered rude to ask about it, as imagine if you were from a family with a criminal familial member? Would you want everyone to be holding that over your head? In a way, we wanted to believe this was true, so we did what we could to protect his privacy as well. Getting to meet Exdeath was considered to be a profound honor, and few have met him in person. I had met him in person perhaps only eight times in a year.”

“Interesting. What about Othlon, what is the most significant transgression you can recall as a member of Othlon?”

“As a member of Othlon… we have made more magicite than I can even remember. It’s...a terrible crime. I cannot even begin to impress upon you what a terrible crime it should be to create magicite.”

“Explain, then, for the record,” he nodded to a small cube on the table.

“Do you know what an Eidolon is?” The Treefolk asked as he tapped his branches on the table nervously.

“There are dozens of things by that name, ranging from a form of ghost, to a race of peacemakers to a rank in a military organization, a type of familiar... perhaps you had best explain.”

“I thought so, perhaps clarifying would be the best idea. There are some that say it takes a specific kind of life to become an Eidolon, but it usually has to do with not willing to embrace the fate of death drags a soul to be in an inbetween phantasmal state which causes a person to be born as an Eidolon. Because of their closeness to the spiritual world, they can only be said to be phantoms, but their ability to retain an almost godlike ability to conjure unthinkable magic leads many to believe that they’re some sort of ancestral guardian. A spirit of power. Those are what we know to be Eidolons, and they appear to be phantasmal beings that grant power. Their forms are made of unthinkable energy. Othlon wanted to find a way to replicate such power, so they began to experiment upon captured Eidolons. They did unthinkable kinds of torture to the Eidolons, and discovered that this was an easy method to conjure and harness their full energy. Once their spirits were essentially flayed of their essences, there were two kinds of magicite that were produced, and these magicite exist now, and are used for petty things.”

“Explain, two kinds? What are they and why do they differ?”

“There is Magicite, and then there is Nethicite. Magicite is the cast off shell of the deity, almost like their left over ‘body’ and Nethicite is like their ‘breath’ their ‘spirit’ or ‘essence’. We could attempt to manufacture nethicite in other ways, by attempting to draw and freeze Aethers, but the danger of mist poison is a serious concern. Magicite however cannot be made in any other way.”

“What happens when you fuse them back together?” the judge said, leaning on his elbows, interested.

“We are unsure, as attempts to refuse them together have failed, and this tends to be a means to merely distract from the point. Those are the tortured corpses of ancestral spirits, or at least guardian phantoms. Making Magicite is unconscionable.” The Treefolk said with a shrug. “But I didn’t really understand it until much later when I actually met Exdeath. This was...long after investments had been made in Magicite by me.”

“Approximately how many people are destroyed in this way every year?”

“Do you know how much Magicite is on the street? How many people use Magicite as a kind of power source, not knowing that it is actually the corpses of spirits? Over hundreds of thousands. It is practically genocide.” The Treefolk said with a raised eyebrow.

“And how long has that been going on at that rate?”

“Slowly progressing. It is difficult even for the most experienced among us, and many who have had to do this have signed waivers to wipe their memory of the experience, as it is incredibly hard to witness. I refused to sign as I desired to not forget. I needed to remember, so I could never forget what I would do for unlimited wealth and power. That I was willing to essentially sell my soul. It’s strange, as I tell you, I feel a sense of relief even if I know you will execute me for it. Again, though, I have no regrets in telling you people. I have nothing left really.”

“Why is that?” the elf asked, puzzled, though wary of looking a gift horse in the mouth.

“For one, I have lost every bit of money I earned for selling my principles. For two, I have disgraced myself entirely upon my morals, my honor, my sense of shame. I have nothing left really, I have no family, I have no friends outside of Othlon, I have no real sense of life fulfillment, and I have no lovers who would not flee from me faster than you can say ‘I am broke’. What do I have left if I will be facing perpetual pain, deprivation, disgrace, blame, and shame for the rest of my miserable life? What can you offer me aside from a less painful death that will give me any sense of real purpose or a reason for living? Haven’t we already also passed that measure?”

“Redemption, perhaps, but that’s not what we’re here for today. Now, tell me more about this, where do you get the spirits that you convert into... batteries.”

“Various places. Some of them are found in holy springs, streams, lakes, and rivers, others are in mountain caves, on the peaks of mountain faces, some in glens and others in various locations that seem to have a strong aetheric presence. I remember clearly a place where we found one, which was hiding in a well, for years. We had no idea that it would just remain there at the bottom of a dry empty well for years. I was able to endure that time without looking away to the production of the magicite then, because it felt… merciful. I know it is merely wishful thinking, but I at least drew comfort from this.” The Treefolk said with a massaging of his branches. a few leaves fell upon the ground.

“As for Redemption… we already know it’s too late for that. If there is a hell anywhere, I’m slated to be born there in the next life.” The Treefolk said with a shrug. “I am not blind.”

“Very well, then let’s ask about the supply some more, and leave off that, where do you get these, just from your own country? It would seem the supply would be quickly exhausted.”

“There are some people that we use, they are called ‘Espers’ by Othlon, and they have the ability to sense, and to call the Spirits toward them. While we are drying up now, during the Spirean war with New Freedomstan, we were able to enter the wood beyond the hill lands in Caldurim, and we were able to find a few Eidolons within there. Many are likely in those woods as the Esper we had was able to sense very many of the presences there. It is even more likely that there are some in Aerilani, the Faerin Valdur, the Fyreland Fen, and many other places beyond our borders. No doubt there are many in Altea as well.”

“How are these Espers recruited? What do they know about their activities? How are they kept under control?”

“Espers are often kidnapped. Some believe that they are becoming more and more rare. They do not know much about their activity at all, and given that the way that we generally use them is we threaten to take their lives and ‘let them go‘. They attempt to summon their guardians and then we catch them once more. Once they lose any hope and realize what we are doing, and realize there is no mistake, most of them go into a despair like state, and some commit suicide. The others we merely euthanize.”

“The word you want is murder,” one of the necrontyr judges said.

“That’s more honest, yes. But I desire at least to lie to myself a little more. I am oft merciless to myself, but it’s becoming too much for me. Can I have a small break? A drink perhaps as well?” The treefolk asked as he lay his head upon the table for a moment, the draping leaves covering his face and shielding his emotions and expressions.

“A moment, I think that is sufficient for our purposes, remove the defendant,” the necrontyr said, and the necrons unlocked him, pulling him out of the chair, with a touch more roughness than before.

The treefolk didn’t resist and he was easily cooperative despite their physical rigor against him. He didn’t expect to get a pat on the back, after all. He watched as he was pulled in the direction he was meant to go, likely returning to his cell, or so he thought.

They kept him in the corridor, seeing no need to return him to his cell, as the deliberations were likely to be exceedingly brief. It was less than three minutes before they led him back in, and sat him down again, the other judge, the one who’d not spoken to him so far, trailed her fingers through her white hair. “You wanted some water?” she asked.

“Just a bit to drink. I could use some water. I know I have no right to request anything, but I hope I can have some.” The Treefolk said with a tired glance.

One of the other guests passed him a glass, made of a flexible kind of plastic that sagged a little between the skeleton-like frame of wire, an odd implement to drink from, to be sure.

The treefolk sipped from the cup slowly, attempting to calm himself down as he was feeling a bit sick to be alone to his thoughts with no distraction. He tried to at least take some time in the company of others, so he could be more concerned about what they were doing.

“Thank you for that.” He said as he set the empty plastic cup upon the table.

“You were brought here to answer charges of slavery, and have confessed to those, and to the arrangement of genocide, and of unethical tests on civilians and children of various drugs, furthermore, you have confessed to involvement in kidnap murder and impious trade in sapient remains, do you not wish to offer any defense or justification for these crimes?”

“No defense nor justification, I have done this, and I am guilty.” He said with a shrug.

“Then the only matter is your punishment, as you’ve told us, you expect to be killed, and you certainly deserve it, but we cannot deny your cooperative manner, so far. We desire to retain you, and for that manner, I am able to consign you to deportation to the C’tan Empire, and to the custody of the Imperial Security Agency, for further questioning.”

“Right, so when shall I be sent there? Or is this to happen later? I mean, I am willing to disclose anything, but I need some time to not think about it. Just a while, it’s very exhausting to go over this, and to think about them.”

“If it is your wish, I am sure they would be happy to mind-wipe you at some later date,” the elf said, a little distastefully. “For now you will be returned to your cell to rest.”

“I’m sorry.” He said apologetically as he headed back to his necron escort. He looked over at the C’tani and shook his head. “I refused wiping my memory before, I am not going to wipe it now. I shouldn’t.”

“So be it, good day,” he said as the treefolk was escorted out.

“Another Exdeath,” the necrontyr woman beside her said, “Who’ve we got next, Satari...”

“Artier Molritie, an accountant from Covir Bank.”

“Bring him, or her, in then, let’s have the next one...” she said.

[High Treefolk]

The Police Office in the City of Cobrook
The West Plains of the Feywild

The C’tani had arrived, and arrived in force, however, here in Cobrook, there were not that many, and at the police station, only six arrived, black and navy-blue uniforms that could be seen to be some kind of officials, by their build and manner, possibly police themselves. They arrived in a hovering vehicle which pulled up next to the police station, one of them stepping out, looking at it, “Hello?” he called.

Hardly any of the police officers were inside of the building. The majority of the officers were standing or sitting about outside the building. Taking no moment to spend inside the non-airconditioned stuffy building which had the red tiled roof. The C’tani could see a lovely flowerfolk calling the attention of the growing crowds of people around the square. As she stepped upon the bricklayed ground which was arranged like a mosaic, she watched as one of the men, clearly a uniformed police officer bought a bottle of ice cold water and dumped it upon his head. He was slightly red and had sharply pointed ears and slanted eyes with short cropped brown hair. He wore a blue and white uniform with a gold star, and did not immediately notice the C’tani’s arrival.

“Hello!” he called again, “I’m looking for the police station!”

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’ve yust found it.” The Hylian said with a smile. “I’m officer Tadir, I am here to help if you need it.” The Hylian said with a calm expression. “What seems to be the problem, Citisen?”

“We’re here to start giving you assistance and training,” he said, “also pay, of course.”

“You are… the reinforcements we called from Sylandral months ago? Excellent, my superior officer will like to hear.” He said as he shook out his head a little, his hair drenched. “I think my boss is on break at the café. It has free wireless for customers, and air conditioning, it is just over there.” He pointed with his hand upon his belt as he tucked in his phone in the belt pocket now that he had cleared it of water.

“No, we’re from the ‘Great Civilization,’” he said, “You may have heard? Is this really the police station?”

“Y-Yes...why?” Tadir asked a little nervously.

“It’s... a little sad?” he said, looking up at the roof.

“You think it’s sad from here, look at it from the hill. The roof has broken and cast off shingles, easy to see from there.” Tadir said with a nervous chuckle. “But welcome to Cobrook, I am sure you all… are not used to the weather so perhaps heading to the café might offer you some respite, but since I am on duty I need to be visible here.”

“It’s quite mild, really,” he said, “but then I’m from Llanis. So that’s not really a surprise,” he said, glancing up at the sun in the sky, his eyes looking at it without difficulty, “Cafe, you say?” he asked.

“Yes, indeed. Over there, past the fountain in central square, and the cafe is the one with the green sun umbrellas and the mist machines.” The Hylian said as he looked over as a woman attempted to get his attention. The woman seemed to speak rapid Hylian and he responded back with a few questions before heading toward the direction the woman pointed. “Sorry, friend, duty calls, I must go.”

“Erdissë, go with him,” the C’tani said, to one of their group. The lady elf with them got out of the vehicle, pausing to open the rear hatch, grabbing a rifle. As she followed him he headed up to the west side of town by the riverside. Near an aqueduct there seemed to be a crowd gathering as some of the townspeople were gathering. A few other officers were arriving on scene as the Hylian began to make note of the time and he spoke clearly and over the crowd.

“Please disburse.” He said as he attempted to reach where the other officers were setting up cordons to keep people from entering the scene. “Disburse, I said.” He said as the crowd was not quite filtering away and the first officer on scene saluted to the Hylian and he cleared his throat. “Did you maintain the site’s integrity, Yorleif?” He asked as the other officer, a treefolk, nodded. “Alright then, I’ll see if I can get the new officers on the team up to speed if I can.”

“What’s going on here?” Erdissë asked, looking over the barrier.

“There’s been a murder. I have called the medical examiner but it will take some time for him to get here, but CoD looks to be pretty obvious, the suspect seems to have beheaded the victim. It leaves very little room for questioning how did the vic die.” The treefolk said as the Hylian took his name at the scene and noted the time and crossed the cordon to examine the scene.

“Cod? You mean cause of death?” she seemed mildly irritated by the phrase, standing by the cordon, before passing under it, curious.

“Yes, Friend C’tani. Cause of Death we abbreviate to the letters ‘c’ ‘o’ ‘d’.” Tadir said as he began to head into the scene which was already being examined by crime scene investigators who were gridding the area into specific quadrants so they could attempt to keep every bit of the scene surveyed. “We try to not clue in the civies into what is going on in the investigation.”

“I... see.” she said, quite bemused.

The Hylian began to do a strip search of the location, walking carefully in a zig zag pattern.

“It would seem to me this place is not the murder scene.” He said as he listened carefully. “The body seems to have been disposed of here. He sniffed the air. “Quite recently as well, I can’t smell the gases of decomposition, and I cannot hear many flies within the corpse burrowing into the flesh. I would recommend that people look for footprints or tread patterns, we can figure out what kind of shoe and tire treads or perhaps the root shape of the treefolk in question.” Tadir said to the C’tani officer. “Keep sharp.” He said as he looked around for tire treads. If the C’tani looked, they would notice 10 divided sections, and on the tenth quadrant there seemed to be tire treads upon the ground that seemed to trail off in the North Eastward direction.

“Do you not have a detective and forensic department to do this?” she asked.

The pair of officers looked at one another and then there was a sense of awkward silence as Tadir then burst into belly laughter.

“With what funding?” He asked. “We cannot pay for air conditioning.”

“I shall call for them, then,” she said, letting the rifle sit on its sling, touching her hand to the place behind her right ear.

“Hmm… “ The young officer examined the victim once more, and saw the small female hands clutching an object. The victim seemed to be human. “I think we got something. Signs of a struggle, but I can’t seem to figure out what this is. Looks like some sort of brooch.” The officer said to Tadir.

“Hmm…what is the symbol here?” He asked Tadir as he saw a symbol of a diamond with a circle enclosed in it.

“Looks like a tribal symbol, I’ll have to check the database later. It’s not too important, just put it in the evidence locker.” The treefolk nodded at Tadir’s words and Tadir made a couple notes on the note pad. “This is startling, and it is bothersome.”

“Why?” she asked, unbothered by it all.

“The tribals are moving southward, and we don’t generally see them in these towns. We’re not even officially allowed to acknowledge their existence, so I am going to have to write another awkward police report yet again.” The Hylian said with a sigh.

“You are now,” she said.

“We are?” The Hylian asked with a raised eyebrow. “When did the law on the Ayuru expire? I don’t remember there being a sunset provision on the law there, but I could be wrong, and perhaps the tea drinkers in the Council have managed to do something about the tribals?”

“There are no laws here except C’tani laws. You work by those now.”

“In such case, I would not even begin to handle it, as I am not sure what the standard procedure is. I could do what I think is standard, but I am not sure if that would actually even work. Of course I suppose this is what the training you said would be about?” The Hylian asked as he glanced at the noted evidence and the local method of setting up a scene and he shuddered. “I hope it’s not worse than it is already in paperwork.”

“Well for now you can keep this area secure and wait for the detectives to arrive, it shouldn’t take too long, they’re coming from Altea.”

“Oh? From Altea? They’re not Alteans are they…” The Hylian asked nervously.

“Why shouldn’t we use Altean resources?” she asked, bemused.

“Because they are Altean.” The Hylian officer said, as if this already made the case obvious and the other treefolk pointed at Tadir and nodded.

“He has a point you know.” The Treefolk said with a shudder. “Alteans are evil.”

“Alteans are your moral superiors. They at least resisted their slaver regime.”

“Okay, and how were we supposed to resist our slaver regime?” The Hylian was now further bemused. “This is not a rhetorical, I am honestly wondering what you expected us to do against the banks and the government. I mean it is not very hard to see that if we did that we would be eliminated.”

“Ask the Alteans when they arrive, they’ll tell you how you resist oppression, they’re rather better at it,” she said with a shrug, “In any case, we’ve spent a lot of money training them already, and still don’t trust them to administer the law in their own country, so they can come out here.”

“You can’t be serious… they’ll end up oppressing us instead. Are you crazy? Alteans are not merely people who resist oppressors. They are oppressors. You are sending the most oppressive Alteans here as well if they are law enforcement. Are you seriously out of your minds?”

“They’ve C’tani mentors with them, they’ll do fine I’m sure.”

“This is not going to end well.” The other Treefolk officer said with a sickened expression. “They are going to start killing people.”

“I’m sure they’ll be well behaved,” she said, with a shrug.

“There is no such thing as a well-behaved Alteans.” The treefolk said with a gag. “Look, you need to talk to your superiors and try and put them back on the other side of the beastlands. We don’t want them here.”

“You’ll have them, though,” she said, “Besides, some of them are from Drakenspire and the Free Marches, only some of them are from Palomancia and Fynn... But they’re all keen to enforce the law. Just try and not bribe them, some of them still think bribes are normal.”

“Normal… Oh goodness this is not going to end well.” The Hylian said with a shudder.

“On the other hand, they know how to catch criminals, so that will be good.”

“I am not sure I would want them to catch criminals if the cost is that we have their laws of hatred and murder enforced here. Also don’t be daft. Drakenspire and the Free Marches don’t exist. This is pro-hunam propaganda.” The Hylian said with a frown.

“Given that I’ve been there, yes, they do.”

“Oh come off it no one actually believes they exist. This is an attempt for the humans in the area to distance themselves from their savage roots.” The treefolk said with a scornful gaze.

“I wouldn’t go that far, Advir. I think there are some hunams that aren’t savage.” The Hylian said giving them the benefit of the doubt. “And it goes without saying this in no way means that they should be able to enforce their insane racist crap here. We don’t need anymore oppression. We already got our hands full.”

“They will enforce the law, our law,” the elf said, irritated, “and you will extend them every courtesy.”

“Courtesy? Their very presence is discourteous, they are going to bring their barbarism here and we’re going to be facing the end of the Altean oppressor’s yoke. I can’t think of a single reason why this is a good thing.”

“Now now, Advir. We can at LEAST give them a chance. If they do anything bad, who do we report to?” The Hylian asked with a raised eyebrow. “It won’t be… Another Altean will it?”

“No, any C’tani will do, but one of us is probably best.”

“Okay then, I’m sure we’ll be able to do something about it if something goes wrong Advir, see? They’re going to listen.” Tadir said with a cleared throat. “We’ll get to it then. What’s the new policy on the tribals tho’? Are we supposed to patrol in their.. ‘areas’?”

“I take it they don’t want you to?”
“Sadly, they do not like us getting near them at all. This makes it really hard to police the area where they are. They get a reputation for crime, and they are also vulnerable to crime.” The Hylian explained. “I’ve gotten close before, wearing a hat, and I was able to ask some questions, but they don’t take intruders well.”

“Then no, not yet, but you are to report them as you would anyone else,” she said.

“That is hard to do when you are in a situation where not even the victims of crime are willing to cooperate with the police.” The Hylian explained.

“Try,” she said, impatiently. “You’re going to get paid more, we expect you to make an effort, though,” she said.

“We are naturally doing our best, but the Dark Eyed Tor do not generally make themselves very approachable.” The Treefolk looked over at the elven woman. “Have you honestly ever tried to work in a district or place where people don’t want you around”

“Yes, from time to time. Such disorder ends quickly though.”

“Are….you’re joking. This has been going on for hundreds of years. I hardly think it will go away like that in a snap.” The Hylian said with a raised eyebrow.

[High Treefolk]

Mandragora the Golden, Citadel of the Dynastic House of Sautekh

“Ayliah!” a man’s voice called, “Ayliah Mercine!”

They’d been done with torturing the treefolk some time ago, or at least so they claimed, having returned her to her quarters and mostly left her to her own devices in the gardens, and to provide what comfort that she could to Illyrie, and beyond occasional deliveries of food, there was every sign that the C’tani had forgotten about her, even Illyrie got more attention, unwanted though it might be. Ayliah was still attempting to avoid Illyrie and was keeping as far away as possible, attempting to avoid the stench of the sap which was still overwhelmingly present in her room. She sighed as she attempted to step outside to see if there was still the same garden area with the pond, and she headed toward the pond to seek solitude, and still felt disgusted by her experience. The fact was to her that her captors were inhumane beasts, and there was no way to divert the suggestion. They were monsters, and unworthy of any protection to their dignity, as only a savage would torture a surrendered prisoner of war. The thoughts mulled through her mind as she considered what kind of creatures would allow such a thing to happen without consequence, and as a result she considered the vast implications of the C’tani Empire, and considered what sort of nation could handle itself opposed to them, as she considered there were few options that lay themselves openly to them. It was of considerable difficulty that she pondered what had happened to the others. Perhaps more of them had died from the bindings if they hadn’t already. The fact was that there were still limited actions she could take.

“Ayliah!” the voice called again, as its owner, a human man, with curly brown hair and pale blue eyes came into view, “You are to come with me,” he said, in a manner that seemed entirely matter-of-fact.

“Leave me alone.” She said as she batted away his hand and stood in place. Naturally this action got her a shock, for her trouble, the collar still present, and now calibrated more precisely to affect treefolk, a sizzling heat across her neck.

She then went from a small batting of the man to a fierce thwack as a reflex from the pain, and she looked mildly apologetic and shook her head. “I told you to leave me alone. Stay away, you’re going to get yourself hurt.”

“So be it,” he said, annoyed, and rubbing his wrist, “You can’t say I didn’t try and be nice to you!” he added, storming off the way he’d come. She rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation, and returned to standing in place as she kept her distance from any of the persons who billowed about.

When they came to bother her again, they came in force, this time with large, spider like constructs, green metal beasts the size of small busses. The same human led them again, this time, with a silvery grey body armour.

“Are you going to come peacefully?” he asked, sounding irritated, perhaps at having to wear a gas mask type affair.

“Is your hand okay? I am sorry about hitting you so hard. I think your bosses are idiots for thinking that was in any way a good idea.” She said pointing at the neck collar. “You aren’t made of hardwood, I suspect, nor are you able to resist pain in the way I can.”

“Come with me,” he said.

“I take that as a no, then?” She said as she approached cautiously. “I didn’t mean to do it, you know. It’s entirely their fault. You should make a request for compensation and sue them.” She said with a shaking of her head, her balanced lobed green leaves seemed to swish with this motion. She sighed as she followed the robots and the human with less anger, and more moral outrage. They weren’t even caring to their own people, thus not only were they savage barbarians, but they were hateful to their own kin.

“Humm? What? No, of course I don’t feel impact pain, I’m a C’tani,” he said, with some irritation, “but I have to deal with you, which is irritating, and frankly beneath me.”

“I’m glad we agree one one thing then.” She said with a tilt of her head. “And if you don’t feel impact pain that’s a convenient addition to you, you look rather human though, so I imagined getting slammed in the hand by non-hollowed hardwood would get you at least a bit of pain. I felt bad for you, but you’ve cured me of that ailment. Thank you.”

“You have other things to feel bad about, come this way,” he said, walking onto a set of stairs that led up across to one of the rooftops. She managed to follow her way up without problems and she tutted quite noticeably.

“You people are morally bankrupt and have no position in judging me from any moral avenue. I am only astonished that you consider yourselves to be in any position of moral high-ground at all. The only thing you have going for you is the ability to dominate and control disempowered people. That’s not even actual moral courage. That’s supreme cowardice.”

“On the other hand, given what you did to your sister, you are a particularly shameful example of sapience,” he said, waving the injured hand, motion quite limited it seemed, “So stop bleating about how bad we are. It’s boring, and it’s frankly silly.”

“I never proclaimed moral high ground, and don’t pretend to think you know what is better for Ellesime, that’s ridiculous. You don’t know her at all.” Ayliah said with a dismissive wave of her branch. “And if you weren’t so evil, I’d have nothing to complain about. Your people are evil. You murder and torture, and you are imperialists. There are fewer things more evil than that. All I need to hear more of your evil is for there to be systematic genocide and slavery and I’m sure your empire will be among the dirt that is the Kraven Corporation.”

“The who?”

“Corporatist state that is perhaps a shining example of what it means to be a horrible megastate.” The treefolk said with a smirk. “One that is no different from you in many respects.”

“And have you ever met these Craven People?”

“I read the news.” She said with a smirk, “But I understand that literacy is a limited commodity among barbarians.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure, given that your people won’t even send anyone who’s not in the plutocratic class to school, it seems like a trait of your homeland. Just like the genocide and slavery in High Treefolk is.”

“Now, now. We didn’t implement those policies nor did we kill those people. Do not lay blame where none lies, and of course barbarians are not going to have access to education. We prefer to keep our barbarians out of the foothold of academic discourse, and if there were any business charitable enough to provide it that followed our laws, why I’d have no problem with it whatsoever.”

“You are slavers, and you have committed genocide,” he said, holding out a hand to stop them, taking a small object from his pocket and unrolling the screen, looking annoyed as he tried to do this without using his other hand much.

A treefolk and several others appeared on the screen after half a minute or so, after he simply gave up and closed his eyes to do something to the device wirelessly.

“Interesting. What about Othlon, what is the most significant transgression you can recall as a member of Othlon?” one of the interrogators began.

“As a member of Othlon… we have made more magicite than I can even remember. It’s...a terrible crime. I cannot even begin to impress upon you what a terrible crime it should be to create magicite.” The treefolk replied.

“Explain, then, for the record,” the treefolk replied. nodded to a small cube on the table.

He let it run for a minute or two.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about.” Ayliah said with an astonished gasp. “Is this for real?”

He switched it to another confession on the same topic, without replying. Then another and another.

“What the actual fuck is this? How am I supposed to know what the hell Magicite is? I thought it was just an ordinary stone mined from the ground. I had no idea it was… THIS.” She said pointing at the screen. “THIS is too much. Stop it. Stop right now.”

“I am sure these Eidolons were saying something similar,” he said, “This ‘Craven Corporation’ doubtless started the same. When you allow private industry to operate unsupervised it brings forth monsters, just as nationalism or communism does.”

“I am not omniscient, and nor had they given ANY impression that they were using anything other than normal mining material. What sort of thing was I supposed to do to figure this out? I have no idea what this is at all. I… just stop. Turn it off.” Ayliah said with quite a bit of disgust.

“Have a government which made sensible efforts to find out if the laws were being followed. At least when we torture someone we know we’re doing it.”

“That means your government is actively participating in evil. We’re not evil, we don’t participate in that stuff, and I had no idea this was going on. The Highest level of our government had no idea, and has no idea of this, or if it is true.”

“Yes you did. How many shares of Othlon do you own again?”

“I am not of Othlon Corp, I own the Himari Fruit company… which is connected to Othlon, but is not part of Othlon. I cannot say I know of the inner workings of Othlon at all I have never even met Exdeath.” She said with a protesting tone in her voice.

“How many shares would that be again?” the C’tani asked.

“Only Ninety five shares.” She said defensively.

“And what did you do to ensure sensible corporate governance? Oh wait, you left the company in the dictatorial hands of a man who has a name like a second rate Kent Villain. Exdeath, really now. He even behaves like one too. Secret fortress! Only the privileged few ever see his face?”

“I had the impression that Exdeath was not his real name, nor did I think he wanted to show his face, as he was no doubt a lowborn merchant. It’s why he was able to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes and why he was able to beguile us all. I am shocked and appalled.”

“You didn’t once think he might be up to no good? And you call other people ignorant and barbaric? Nonsense. The truth is you didn’t want to know, you intuited he was evil and doing evil, but it was only happening to poor people, so you didn’t let yourself look too carefully because then you’d have to know about it. You call me morally weak? Hah.”

“I intuited that he was a merchant, and merchants do all sorts of evil and this is partially true, I expected he was doing something, but not something to this scale. This is beyond the threshold of my tolerance. I would not guess that it was happening to poor people specifically, but stupid people. I had no idea that the stupid people were also us, his shareholders. This was betrayal!”

“Also he robbed you blind no doubt. How do you keep an executive from robbing your money and company resources if you can’t fucking find him? Oh, come on, it’s not worth explaining this to you,” he said, walking along again.

Ayliah frowned as she glanced over at the C’tani and shook her head. She also had no idea how she could be able to find Exdeath.

They approached a particularly large building, with clear windows looking in on a great hall within, and a set of doors swung open before them leading into a green and gold decorated hall within, long tables lined up along it, and thousands of seats set up.

“What a weird place…” Ayliah said with a confused expression written on her face, a sort of blank confusion only describable by having viewed something that she had never seen once before and attempting to reason what on earth she was doing in this place.

“What’s weird about it?” he asked, leading her over to a raised dias, descending to ground level, set between several of the tables. On other diases decorated trees stood.

“Why am I here?” She asked as she seemed to be even more confused. “I thought I was being moved to yet another dungeon, or another dose of torture and yet I am here in the middle of… a great hall? Some sort of Altean looking Great Hall.”

“Interesting, why Altean?” he asked, “Get up on the dias,” he said, passing her a long piece of shimmering, sequined green fabric.

“Because only Alteans have this much stupid impractically tasteless lavishness?” She elucidated.

“Go on, elaborate? Also, put that on, it wraps around as a dress.”

“I don’t like it.” She said simply as she handed back the tree skirt.

“What’s lavish about it?” he asked, bemused, looking up at the green-metal walls and the shimmering winter-themed (though it was not winter) decorations of silvered white enamel and golden tinsel interlaced with bright primary colours, green, red, blue. “And put the clothing on thank you.”

“I don’t desire to wear this, it’s uncomfortable looking.” She said as she looked over at the wall and pointed at the decor in confusion. “This is obvious.”

“There are no decorated festivals in your country. Put it on, or your audience might make lewd remarks at you,” he said.

“Audience?” The treefolk asked blankly. “What the fuck are you having me do?”

“A bit of public humiliation, we’re going to make you stand there and decorate you, as a ‘christmas tree’ as you might have heard it described.”

“I am not a pine, fir, or spruce tree.” She said with a raised eyebrow. “Isn’t this the norm for those kinds of trees? I am sort of harder to decorate.”

“It works with any tree though, so put the outfit on, or you’ll just get more unpleasant attention.”

“Fine!” she said as she put the tree skirt upon her waist and let it fall and she grumbled angrily.

“Good, now hands out,” he said, “See what I mean about this being beneath me? I’m supposed to be in charge of more important issues than decorating a prisoner,” he said, draping slightly itchy silvery tinsel on her shoulders.

“I don’t see why you should either, but your boss is a moron, and so are your leaders. I’d pity you if I didn’t get treated like shit by you.”

“I am on the council thank you, I am one of our leaders, unfortunately as I proposed it I ended up doing it, which is frankly no fun at all,” he said, irritated as he began winding it around her, and tying glittering baubles to her arm. “And shit never started a factory to rip people’s souls out and sell it as fucking petrol. I treat shit much better than you. Rightly so.”

“I didn’t do that either, not knowingly, and your fury towards me is unjustified.” The treefolk said as she glanced at the C’tani. “I am not sorry for what I haven’t done.”

“No, you were merely so irresponsible and inept that you allowed it to happen while profiting by it, and to your own admission, knew but did not care that wickedness was afoot.”

“I didn’t expect it would be this level of egregious, I thought it would be merely cheating or cutting corners, but not the kind of thing that we’re talking about. This is genocide, and I would never allow this to happen knowingly.”

“How typical of your culture to consider negligence an excuse. You are a criminal, a moral reprobate, and you are getting what you truly deserve,” he said, and clamped a bauble onto her hardwood nose.

“Not an excuse, a justification. I have no knowledge of such a crime being done, thus there is no justifiable reason for me to be punished for this crime.” She spat.

“Your role was to have such a knowledge, to detect and punish. You have failed in that role absolutely.”

“How was I supposed to know, I am not omniscient, and no country can detect every instance of wrongdoing in its borders. Are you at war with the whole world then, C’tani?”

“Your irresponsibility continues to gall me, are you doing it on purpose?” he asked as he climbed up her and sat a large star on her upper leaves.

“So what part am I responsible for, C’tani?” The treefolk asked as she stood by irritatedly.

“Why, the failures of your government to protect its citizens by passing elementary laws of financial responsibility which would have soon raised questions regarding this Exdeath fellow, and the various others that no doubt have done terrible crimes to your people.”

“I didn’t know anything about it, was informed of none of Exdeath’s crimes, and I cannot say I could pass any laws that would have actually infringed upon the actual powerhouse of the country. We have a small government.”

“Which is whose fault again?”

“We have a small government because it is better than a bigger one for our nation’s prosperity.”

“Your nation has not prospered.”

“People in my nation have prospered and they are my people. Thus we have.”

“Then people in your nation have died of poverty, thus you have been impoverished.”

“I don’t know about that. The business that has been conducted in High Treefolk lifted more people up than crushing them all down, but no doubt there will be poor people everywhere. So, are you going to combat poverty over the entire universe, C’tani?”

“Yes, we are,” he said, going down the other arm and dangling little toys off her.

“That is absurd, and you are out of your mind.” She said with a frown.

“Why, because it will take a billion years? That does not make it less worth doing.”

“Because it’s impossible, and what you are talking about is bloody communism. There is no way to make poverty go away.” She said with a spiteful glance.

“Of course it is, it’s been done before and will be again, hands out,” he said, tutting at her. “Nice and wide. Think ‘tree.’”

“Your mockery is duly noted.” Ayliah said with scorn. “And I am only going to do the bare minimum of what you desire of me. Stop pushing it, C’tani.”

“Arms out, nice and high,” he said, clearly exasperated.

She half draped her arms and dropped a few lobed leaves upon the ground.

He shook his head and clamped a variety of ornaments onto her chest, before moving around and doing the same on the bark of her back. She blushed and stiffened in shock at the feeling of the pain, and at the same time she attempted to recoil from his touch and tried instead to keep her mind clear and then she kept her hands ready in a spread out position.

“This is utterly ridiculous! You are perverse.”

“Perverse you say?” he asked, standing back to look at his handiwork, “You look splendid,” he said, sending another silent command and making a gesture with his hand, holding it out face up and then lifting it, placing it down as if flipping something over. A curtain of green light came down around her, catching her longer branches in it and holding them in place, while simultaneously keeping the rest of her in, unlike mere physical restraints, this was a system they’d installed linked directly to the citadel’s vast power supplies, to keep her rooted to the spot, to prevent her removing the decorations, and more importantly to prevent her going on a rampage around the hall. It also prevented anyone from touching her beyond the tips of her limbs, though.

“Unhand me you brute!” She attempted to move with furious effort but was held in place as she felt the strange force field keeping her from moving from the location. “This is sexual harassment!” She cried out as she attempted to move once more, not getting much progress against her bonds.

“What?” he said, bemused, “I have other things to be doing, enjoy!”

“And you should be doing them, don’t you guys actually have jobs rather than inflicting your disgusting selves upon me? You sicken me.” Ayliah spat angrily as her sputum smelled oddly sweet and was sticky to the touch. It sizzled on the green aura surrounding her, and he waved cheerily, leaving her to her own devices. The area began to smell sweet like warm pancakes on Christmas Morning, and the Treefolk attempted to move more in exasperation, not getting so much as an inch of movement before she needed to rest and recover. “ARGH!”

Eventually the area began to fill up with people who occasionally pointed and made half-heard remarks about her, but otherwise ignored her, as they went about preparing the tables and generally getting on with things.. Ayliah angrily shouted obscenities loudly at the top of her lungs, both in Sylvan and also in Sindarin, attempting to see which ones stuck. She would insult people’s mothers and also their children and whatever would actually get a rise out of the passer bys.

“Be quiet,” an elf said, waving his hand at her, as she insulted his progeny, “Or we’ll make you be quiet.” No one seemed to react to sylvan.

“What are you going to do about it?” She asked as she narrowed her eyes at the elf.

He paused by her and leaned down to the base of the dias she was stood on, “This,” he said, and there seemed to be no further sound from outside the bubble she was in.

She sighed as she was still huffing in anger and attempted to move as she still was held in place. She was angry from every single moment she was held in place, and began to plan in her mind the numerous ways to swear bloody vengeance.

[Allanea]

To: Uncle Ranisath [private e-mail]
From: Sasha [private Leyfield Email]
Security: Private Email.

Dear Uncle Ranisath!

I am aware now of the disappearance of the entire membership of the so-called ‘Gathering’, who have to my knowledge been detained by your forces. As you understand, I am quite unhappy about the treason committed by these individuals against myself and my crown, and obviously about the acts of slavery and other assorted crimes. That said, it must be understood that, given my knowledge of their crimes, they have been motivated by a misinterpreted, misguided version of the same ideas that power myself, and my lovely wife, and indeed Wilhelm and many other brave Freemen.

True, these creatures have been responsible for many crimes. True, you have the absolute right to kill any one of them for any reason, including ‘they amuse you’. Certainly I have killed slavers on lesser reasons, and indeed my feet rest on a slaverskin floormat as I type this in my car. I am a monster and have never denied this. But I implore you, as Nephew and friend, to pardon these individuals.

I have myself carried out things that, in the light of day, would seem to be impossibly cruel. Yet there is in the world such a thing that is mercy. (Cassiopeia is not watching me type, and cannot now call me weak). True, it is not unjust to kill the slaver, but justice does not require that each man bear punishment.

Further, if they cannot be granted a full pardon, I would like to have these individuals released into my own custody. As I am more like them in thinking than you are, I am more likely to successfully assist in their redemption and recovery as members of sapientkind.

Yours, Sasha.

[The Ctan]

Transmission Source: Arnstorana Ranisath Cuilahîr Cuilévaher nos Fëanor, Great Civilization
Destination: Alexander Kazansky, King of Allanea, Emperor of Greater Prussia etc.
Subject: The Gathering of Glausae
Security: True Random OTP

Dear Alex,

I can confirm what you already suspect. The Gathering of Glausae are currently prisoners of the Internal Security Agency (formerly Imperial) for questioning regarding their involvement in conspiracy to commit genocide – the matter of their guilt in the matter of – and certain other issues.

Because of their status as subjects of High Stress Interviews, it is unlikely that any of them will be tried or punished (though some would say that constitutes punishment in and of itself) given that in most cases it would be impossible to secure a conviction.

While I could possibly, and I must stress possibly, prevail upon the Internal Security Agency and De Vere to release these persons immediately, it would reflect very badly, and twice damage my future prospects of re-election, first in that establishing their conspiracy in the matter of the Nefreedian invasion of Crystal Spires further clears my own name in the public mind for the perceived ineptitude and neglect of our duties to our Spirean allies in their time of need, which is one of the two key factors that have forced me out of office at that time, but further an intercession on my part would be seen by many as interfering with matters of security and justice (though little justice is involved) on personal grounds, which would certainly be a matter that political rivals would raise in any re-election campaign I were to run in the future.

On the other hand, the quality of mercy, as the Dramatheurge said, is not strained, and is twice blessed. I will certainly do what I can to aid them.

It may prove helpful to know something of their likely fate otherwise, as I have said it will likely prove impossible to convict them in any court, therefore eventually they will be allowed to go free. Until that time they are held in open exile arrest, in comfort, in an undisclosed location. They will, in time, be allowed to return to their homes, once a new and democratic government is established with a popular mandate, and overall stability. That will take much less time than one might imagine, as many of their people aspire to have the vote already, and once that is done, as the phrase goes, “there can be no return to bullets after ballots;” it is unlikely that they will be able to return to power in any meaningful sense, and thus unlikely they would necessitate a further Civilizational intercession.

Reforming them personally is not truly a priority to our government, they are essentially a group of individuals, and are in isolation, free to believe what they wish to. Having decided that the matter of clearly establishing the facts of their crimes is more actually important than punishing them, or indeed, justice for their victims (a questionable and difficult decision) they can essentially be discarded without any real concern for justice. Having come to the point of treating them as intelligence assets, we must by necessity cease to consider them malefactors in a real sense.

The results of our interrogations so far, do of course indicate a varying degree of guilt among the members of the Gathering of Glausae, and naturally the principles of natural justice still apply to them, and it would be morally perverse to treat them as though they are all equivalently guilty. There are those among their number who do not specifically deserve punishment, and therefore it would be potentially possible for me to secure the release of such persons to your custody, subject to certain concerns (some for instance, fear for their own and their families safety from treefolk aligned assassination and criminality, and while I mean no slur on Reichskamphenite security, they are at substantially greater risk to their safety there than they are in the Great Civilization). Another criterion which must be considered is the degree of cooperation shown by the persons in question, while naturally this is not likely to be what you wish to hear, it is also easier and more politically viable for me to propose rewarding certain Designated Data Co-operators; those who have cooperated with their questioning without duress, and provided information that they are aware of, rather than those who have required advancement to High Stress Interview as well as those who cooperated at the first stage of High Stress Interview without requiring extensive pressure. A final criteria that affects suitability for release is the nature of the person’s employment in the Gathering of Glausae; those who were involved in cultural matters are naturally of less importance and thus will both be less required for future questioning and are less of a potential risk to the safety of their former subjects.

Obviously I understand that you do not plan any manner of military adventure including these people, nor can they practically accomplish anything, except getting their followers killed ,but that in itself is to be avoided, even mercenaries’ lives have value, and we would not see them wasted attempting to fight us.

Therefore we are most able to release those who meet all of the following categories:

• Psychologically fit for release
• Minimum risk to the freedom of others
• Designated Data Co-operator or otherwise repentant
• At low personal risk outside our security
• Non-military, non-economic council members
• Not implicated in serious crimes

I will request, but cannot guarantee, that the Internal Security Agency consider the release of those prisoners meeting three or more of these criteria to your custody, subject to parole conditions which are to include no attempt to return to or involve themselves in the politics of their country. Final approval will of course, remain with those in charge of the situation.

It is most likely that those who are released, if any, will be from the group left behind by the majority in order to attempt to distract us from their escape.

I wish there was more I could do, but it should be remembered that even my ability to – should I wish to sacrifice my career for the benefit of these people, which naturally I do not – pardon them is severely limited; almost all my powers come from being a member of the Triarch Council, and require a majority vote among our members to implement, requiring me to also persuade either Gareth or Laudrina to also ruin themselves to accomplish anything. Likewise, although Paul could release them, in principle, to do such a thing for persons other than those I have outlined above would almost certainly result in his being removed from office and possibly charged with corruption. I do not say lightly that this is the absolute maximum that can be done.

Yours,
Ranisath

[Allanea]

To: The C’tani Senate
From: Alexander Blaken-Kazansky
Security: Encrypted

My Dear friends!

I, as Emperor of Greater Prussia, have failed you all.

I have failed also the High Treefolk.

I have failed because it was I who should have overseen a resolution to the conflict that would have been based on my lawful powers of arbitration, and either established a peaceful solution or a joint invasion over which I would have had oversight. I was unable, due to a lack of wisdom and talent, to do so.

I have in this cost Greater Prussia three members who could have been our friends.

For this I must do penance. I, as Emperor of Greater Prussia, hereby offer, for the freedom of the Gathering of Glause, the entire contents of the CAPINTERN and main Greater Prussian emergency fund (as justly, this is a CAPINTERN emergency), and possession of the Queen’s Orb and Queen’s Sceptre battlestations, all GPE orbital battlestations.

Upon its freedom, the Gathering of Glause will assemble in the city Park of Reichsburg for one last time, and carry out their last official meeting. They will judge myself, for I have failed them and their country beyond repair. I am unable to die and thus death will not be among the possible penalties, but beyond this I will accept the penance which they shall choose.

This is honorable and just.

Sincerely yours,
Alexander, Emperor of Greater Prussia, King of Allanea


To: Ranisath nos Ancalime
From: Alexander Blaken-Kazansky
Security: Top Secret Eyes Only.

I am not mad. I am moved not only by shame and pity, but by a plan. It shall be soon in motion.

[The Ctan]

Senate House, Tephet-Sheta, Duat

The senate house resembled, if one were to dissect it, the stem of some manner of plant or fungus, a central point from which rooms radiated outwards, layer after layer. There were six thousand eight hundred and five senators, and a little more, six thousand eight hundred thirty eight senators’ boxes lined the walls of a semi-circular chamber about a kilometre wide, with the whole senate house a little wider, circular corridors embracing the whole structure and allowing the esteemed representatives to move between their seats without having to navigate the stairs of the actual chamber itself; indeed each box backed onto a sixty meter long set of private rooms that housed their staff, records, and other facilities while the corridors beyond linked them to almost endless meeting rooms and discussion areas, waiting nooks clustered here and there and bright miniature ralacia trees bloomed all year ‘round.

Although the senate box was officially designed for a senator in most cases they held a number of advisors and consultants, giving the chamber am more crowded appearance, and above the twenty six tiers of these, the seating changed to higher density, if still rather plush, public galleries looking down on the senators below. Elected senators represented around two and a half million people each, and it was for this reason, in part, that some remained appointed, by local governments that would not otherwise have direct representation, Corona was one of these, assigned to represent the relatively tiny population of the Lunar Principality.

From the entrance of the quarters adjoining his box, the corridor, braced by thick buttresses of living metal, showed a long row of alcoves that alternated along the gentle curve of the corridor to house either one of the bright red and violet ralacia trees or a semicircular couch built to accommodate up to five humanoids, he deftly scooted down the corridor, thankful that his departure from his rooms had not been marked by any of them suggesting that, today at least, none of the various visitors was looking to talk with him.

One of the unpleasant things about the building – there were in fact three senate houses, the one in the Triarch Palace, this one, the ‘main’ one and a backup located outside the capital – was that there as no way to avoid contact with the public, no matter what kind of a hurry one was in.

He trotted past a few more groups of people before arriving at an area where instead of the sitting area another corridor branched off, he headed into it, twinned trees stretching out their branches intermittently in the corridor, double-banks of elevators stretching on either side of these. He reached up and lightly tapped one of the controls on an elevator, the doors sliding open immediately; it was no mundane system but a translocation chamber, “Triarch Palace, Tier Seven, Grid Four, Floor One Eighty,” he said. The doors closed, and opened again without obvious difference, here, unlike the plush velvet carpets and theme of the main senate house a kind of dry metal theme was predominant, bronze and brushed black steel making up the walls, whorls of random acid-treated patterns decorating them as he passed. There were less visitors up here, as the meeting rooms here were those of the Senior Directorates, those decision making offices that mixed professionals and legislators in the hope of providing accurate decisions, sometimes that worked, occasionally it failed spectacularly.

A pair of senate guards awaited ahead, skull-masked, something that Corona thought was particularly silly, making them look like some manner of Nightmare Night jackanapeses, rather than soldiers, and dressed in imperial purple cloaks, they brought their warscythes up in salute as he passed and entered the room beyond.

The very moment he cracked the door open he was practically assaulted by the barrage of jibber jabber and gabble from beyond, tumbling consonant pairs that typified the necrontyr tongue washing over him. It was a good language for debating in, but a bad language for politics. Translating it into his own native tongue would make much of what was said a little more ambiguous, but nonetheless they had what they had.

It had something to be said for it.

“This is nonsense!”

“How quick can we dispose of the things?”

“We should be careful about these Treefolk, what do they know that can damage us?”

“What kind of a scam is Kazansky up to now?”

“He’s insane, offering so much of his wealth for these people!”

The protests and bemused exclamations circled out around the room and Corona frowned trying to make head or tail of what exactly was the topic.

“What’s going on?” he asked the nearest person, one of the staff of the ‘Justified Maldrex’s Policies Committee.’

“Humm? Ah, Alexander Kazansky has offered all of his Prussian Empire thing’s funds and their Starfleet for the release of the Gathering of Glausae, from Treefolk.”

“What? Really?” Corona asked, astounded. A group of senators was busy pouring over a report in Menelmacari colours that carried the seal of Lady Sirithil on it, while on a soligraphic display on one end of the room someone had set up a ‘destruction timetable’ and another soligram, where the lissom Senator Lirra’hae from the Compact stood with a solipen up on one of the tables and had begun filling in a scale entitled ‘repayment scales and processes’ with a process map illustrating what seemed to be the consensus way to stop Prussian governments managing to get the money back via corruption if it or part of it were to be rebated to their citizens.

“Museums and favours list Senator?” someone’s aide said, stepping up to him, and he shook his head, watching the mayhem.

“Err, send it to my office and I might take a look later,” he said.

“Toast Senator?” another asked, and he accepted graciously, looking at the mayhem around him.

A group of five of the senators from the Compact were sat around one table with their aides, busily making calls with the characteristic monochrome blue tinted hologram technology of their sources.

“What’re they up to?”

“They’re trying to secure personnel and assets to take custody of the Prussian stuff, Allanean and Prussian gear broadly resembles their home tech level so, yeah,” the Maldrex committee member, Thandri, if he remembered rightly, said.

A short man with a receding hairline that splayed back into a splendid and faintly absurd horizontal crest walked up to them, the closest thing to a single ‘war minister’ in the Great Civilization, Aldaconcion Vuarti, “Can we even make the Glause…”

“Glausae,” Thandri corrected.

“Glausae,” he continued, “safe for release?”

“Who knows,” Thandri said, “Anyone here from Security Agency oversight who’s been following the Gathering case?” she called.

A hand went up, “I am!” Lady-Senator King said, holding a global against her shoulder. “I’ve been following it.”

“Can we actually purge their minds of the whole interrogation experience?”

“Already on it,” she said, “I’ll let you know.” She resumed talking on the global.

“Senator Vuarti!” Lirra’hae called, strutting on the table for a moment with the kind of ballerina grace that typified her people, “do you want to help with the destruction timetable? You probably know better than anyone where we’ve got capacity to put some of this stuff! Senator Corona, can you help me with Herdite topics? I’m guessing we can’t rebate to the Lubyakans without damaging relations with them?”

---

ISA Special Services Office, Mandragora

Ilthan looked at the Alteans, “Here is the scenario pack you are to work with. We have key images and scenes depicted in your work documents,” he said, passing them out to the Magi, “Specifically detailing what memories are to be implanted. You will anonymously probe the subjects minds after the first round of wiping and implantation, and verify that each scenario is correctly implanted. Deaths are to be kept at a minimum, but the most important thing is that you must wipe out memories of the interrogation in this facility…” he said.

There was a brief delay as this was done, checked by the Alteans, and then again by another round of checking by C’tani telepaths to ensure the old memories were wiped out and the new ones implanted.

Your terms are largely agreed, we shall deliver the persons comprising the Gathering of Glausae to Reichsburg within two hours of your agreement. Simultaneous with this, teams will arrive at the Queen’s Orb, Sceptre and other stations, to take control of them.

Once your current conflict reaches its resolution, we also require the forfeiture of all state owned or crown owned ships and vessels bearing the Greater Prussian flag as of the beginning of the conflict, and any that have been created during, and furthermore all vessels seized as prizes of war in this conflict.

Signal your agreement to this message and you will have the Gathering.

- Szarekh ita Szarekh, Propatrast-Concion

[Allanea]

Encrypted Message

This deal is accepted.

Be aware, however, that our VERITAS membership is hereby terminated.

[The Ctan]

Naturally, the deal went through, the Treefolk mostly looking confused and slightly hurried were delivered to Riechsburg starport, while meanwhile, teams of technicians - all armed and equipped with suicide implants set on countdown, a prerequisite for such things - arrived at the first of many Prussian facilities.

[Allanea]

The transfer of the battlestations and elderly monitors went on without a hitch, as was the transfer of the money. The principal fund was composed in part of Reichskamphenite currency, and by a third - of Dersconi, which was likely worthless, there not being a Derscon.

The CAPINTERN fund, on the other hand, was valued at almost full price. Though some polities in it have ceased to exist, most were current, and their money still circulated.

[Menelmacar]

Written at Vinyatírion the Eternal, Menelmacar, this 47^th day of Hrívë in the 105^th year of the 222^nd long-year of Menelmacar, by the hand of Lord Túrelio nos Fingolfin, Prefect of State, Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar, to all concerned, in particular Alexander Kazansky, Kingdom of Allanea, greetings;

We have learned of Allanea's withdrawal from VERITAS in a fit of pique after paying far too much for the release of a band of slavers. As a result of this move the Kingdom of Allanea no longer has any agreements with the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar.

It is my duty to inform the world that pursuant to the laws of Menelmacar Allanea no longer qualifies for trade clearances beyond those available to a relatively free nation with which we have just made first contact. Agreements between private parties depending on such clearances made prior to today's date may proceed, but no further may be signed. Additionally, all Alllanean subjects are asked to depart Menelmacari territory immediately. Furthermore, Allanea no longer qualifies for 'elf-friend' status and the title 'Friend of the Elves' held by Alexander Kirilovich Kazansky is, by order of the Elentári, hereby revoked.

Finally, we are withdrawing from the Amistad Declaration, as it has been exposed to be an utter farce.

In recognition of long years of amity we will stop short of declaring Allanea a slavery-supporting state, but we are watching. Closely.

May the Shadow someday recede from Allanea,
Lord Túrelio nos Fingolfin
Prefect of State
Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar

Classification: OPEN
Encryption: NONE

[Menelmacar]

OOC: Co-op post with Allanea.

---

Reichsburg Winter Palace

Cassiopeia Blaken-KAzansky lay on a palace couch, her heavy boots tracking dirt onto the expensive green velvet. For a moment, she pondered the different solutions that she had at hand, then got up, pacing the room worriedly. Finally, she spoke to the wall.

“Computer, activate wallscreen.” - Cassiopeia said, and then stood in front of the screen. She was disheveled, and clearly had been crying. Not an Empress now, but a young adolescent girl in black clothing and glasses, her makeup trailing across her face in long trails of black. - “Computer. Dial to Sirithil nos Feanor’s office, please.”

Instead of going straight to Sirithil’s office as it normally would, Cassie got a different familiar face instead; the holographic avatar of Varda, the AI of Sirithil’s ship and palace, as always in the form of a female elf crowned with stars. Cassie had seen her last on her wedding day, aboard Gilthoniel.

“Good day, Cassiopeia Blaken,” Varda answered. “The Lady has removed Allanea from direct-call authorization. I will inform her you are calling. May I inquire as to the subject of your call?”

“My surname is Blaken-Kazansky.” - Cassie said sullenly. - “If you can tell my Aunt I am calling to apologize, this would be best.”

Varda smiled gently, but didn’t acknowledge the error, if it indeed was one. “I’m informing her now.”

The ensuing delay was worrying; indeed, Sirithil was debating whether to take the call. Finally, though, Varda told Cassie she was putting her through, and the image changed, to the familiar view of Sirithil’s office high atop Minas Telperion, and the glory of Vinyatírion beyond.

“Cassie,” Sirithil answered with a nod, and a smile, though a thin one, “You look upset.”

“I want you to know I have had nothing to do with any of this and I approve of none of it. None of the things which have angered you, certainly.” - Cassiopeia spoke - “Sasha is mad.”

Sirithil regarded her carefully, appraisingly, for a moment, then softened. “Tell me what has happened, Cassiopeia.”

“He’s... gotten this idea about these tree people that they’re almost like us. That they could have been reasoned with, and persuaded to adjust themselves slightly, and then they’d be free. And he felt it is a guilt upon him for having failed to do this. And then he had the idea.” - she paused - “That they should be used as a weapon.”

“Mmm, yes. I presume,” Sirithil said, “This has something to do with their ability to move from one host plant to another. I am beginning to think he sees everyone as a weapon, of some kind or another,” she added, clearly extremely displeased. “I should not have pushed you into the marriage.”

“How can you say that? First, I love him. Even though he is currently in the grip of this... he feels genuinely ashamed that there was no peaceful resolution, and angry with his Uncle. But I love him, he is still Sasha. And second, if I had not married him, then the adoption would have not gone through.” - Cassiopeia’s eyes broadened slightly, and for a moment there was the shadow of fear in them. “I am sorry, Aunt Sirithil. I’m.... I’m very sorry, I understand.”

“I would have greatly preferred if you had come here to say this in person,” Sirithil answered. “But very well. You, personally, I can forgive, and absolve of responsibility in this. But your husband’s kingdom has dealt us vast insult beyond measure, you understand.”

Cassiopeia paused. “I am having a formal apology drafted on behalf of the Free Kingdom. But I have- wait a minute,” - she gasped for breath - “A moment. A moment please. Yes. Yes, I will have the formal apologies drafted, and they will be filled out with the proper diplomatic terms.”

Sirithil gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “A contrite communiqué might have been enough if, let’s say, his idea of an official gift was a media player loaded with his own speeches.” She frowned. “This is rather more serious.”

“No, no, I understand, I... I don’t think this should be canceling out the decades of friendship. I... I am not saying you should immediately hug us, no. But I am saying I would like to begin working upwards again.”

“You can work upwards at your leisure, Cassie,” Sirithil answered. “Alexander, and Allanea, have not said a single word to us all day. He will need to make this apology himself, publicly. And he will need to come here, in person, and show us how sorry he is. I will not have you making apologies for him on his behalf when it may not be something he believes in. And if he does not, then that friendship is truly dead, is it not?”

“I am as much Queen of Allanea as he is King.” - Cassie said defensively. - “Should I then talk to him? I mean. He is doing things and I have not spoken to him since he’s gone under the force field. But I can speak to him?”

“What forcefield?” Sirithil glanced off to the left for a moment, then back to Cassie. “And if you are as much queen as he is king, then how did this happen without your consent? This is his doing; he will fix it. Or not.”

“He has placed a forcefield over Reichsburg Park and has gone under it with all those Tree people and... I am not exactly sure. I know they still have not come out. I have argued until I was hoarse and angry and tired. Have you ever argued with someone so much, the anger has gone out of you?”

“Yes.” With your husband, many times, she did not add. “Go on.”

“I tried to tell him he does not owe these cockmonglers anything. That even if they were valid weapons they are not worth this money, and even if they were worth it, there was no point getting angry over it. And.... I am still pissed over the Malater bullshit. “

“Mmm,” said Sirithil. “Malater is another issue I will need to deal with, of course.” Cassie would have realized that much, certainly, and what she meant by it. “You at least are welcome here. But please speak to your husband. Only he can properly atone for this.”

“He has - may I rant for a moment, Aunt?”

The Elentári’s nod was barely perceptible.

“He thinks everything in the world can be dealt with through ploys, through those elaborate fucking Rube Goldbergian plans, he has taken Rudolph to Malater with him. I still have not fucking forgiven that. I can’t fucking believe this shit. Can you fucking imagine the fucking consequences had Rudy been hurt? I absolutely- I have no words, actually, no wait, I do have words,” - she growled in Free Speech for several seconds, a sufficient time to let loose several dozen curses. Had Sirithil’s computer been equipped with a proper translator - and it probably was - it could have brought up a subtitle, consisting of several sentences which by any logic could not have fit in such a time. - “I am sorry, I do not comprehend. Do you know these guards at the College of Magi tried to take Rudy to a brothel? I can’t even-” - she stopped. - “The fucking ploys.”

“Yes, I know.” Her own husband liked his ploys, too. But he was better at them. “Rudy will not be at risk in Malater much longer, I think,” Sirithil answered.

Cassiopeia just covered her face in her hands. “Why the fuck am I inhabiting the universe where I am calling you to apologize for my husband? Why has this happened?”

“Because--” Sirithil paused a moment. “Stars, I was about to call you the sane one in the family. Except it’s true, right now, really. Anyway, it’s happened because your husband has gone absolutely crazy.”

Cassiopeia just looked on. “Fuck. I... I’m sorry, Aunt Sirithil. I am unprepared for this. And I will need to ask you for-”

There was a knock on the door, a sort of triple knock, and Cassiopeia replied reflexively: “Yes, come in-”

Behind her, Alexander appeared from an opening palace door, looking infuriated, tired, and dirty all at once.

“I didn’t mean you could come in-” Cassiopeia started. - “It was a reflex. Get out.”

Sirithil glanced at Alex a moment, but said nothing, letting Cassie handle it for now.

“You pustulent twit.” - Cassiopeia breathed out. - “I cannot fucking believe you. Look at yourself.”

Alexander gasped, as if he had been gutpunched, and then looked at the wallscreen. “Ahem. Hello.” - he told Sirithil.

“Alexander,” Sirithil answered levelly.

“I am going to assume this is going to be a conversation I will not enjoy.” - he answered - “Well. I will be the first to say-”

“That you are a pustulent twit?” - Cassiopeia offered.

Sirithil cracked the hint of a smile at that, but it was gone just as quickly.

“I appreciate, really, that people in Menelmacar see us leaving the alliance as a betrayal. It was not ever meant as such.”

“You didn’t even have the respect to tell us. It was relayed to us by the C’tani,” Sirithil hissed. “I can only imagine what you have been telling your new friends about us.”

“You do not imagine that we would not assist Menelmacar now,” - Alexander said - “As we have assisted Menelmacar before we were members of VERITAS, so we shall continue to assist Menelmacar in the future. This shall continue to be, regardless of -”

Sirithil cut in. “I don’t want excuses, Alexander, and I don’t want justifications. In your fit of pique at the C’tani you cast us aside along with them like broken tools. I want to know how you are going to make this right. I have already informed Cassie as to what you need to do.”

He paused. “I imagine I shall offer... give me a moment, I must think.”

“You are not to think, you are to apologize, you fucking idiot.” - Cassiopeia snapped.

“Aunt Sirithil, I have had no intent to insult neither you nor your country, I am sorry. It was not meant that I hate the elves, certainly it is not possible for me to hate the elves, I owe you absolutely everything that I have in life, my life, my freedom, my lovely marriage, my daughter’s life, how can I possibly be an enemy to you? This never was the intent. Truly I am sorry.” - he raised a palm. - “I am right now strictly speaking of myself as a person.”

“You shall make a separate apology as King.” - Cassiopeia spoke. - “You will go to Menelmacar and make a formal apology. And bring gifts, I imagine.”

Sirithil nodded to what Cassiopeia said. “It is not merely to me you owe this apology, but to my people, who have stood by you through all things.”

Alexander sighed. “Aunt.” - he rolled his head on his neck for a second, as if his neck was in pain. “Let’s discuss this calmly. Yes, absolutely I will arrive in Menelmacar and make an apology to the Artaoron as part of any session of that body that will choose to have me, with the apology to be entered into its formal records. That said, I have a question.”

“Ask,” she said simply.

“This is not a question of policy. As a private individual, you understand I do not hate Menelmacar or have anything against you, or anything like that, yes?” - Alexander looked somewhat unhappy asking this, and instinctively raised his hands as if he was surrendering to the elf woman.

She shook her head. “I don’t know, right now.”

“Let me state this very clearly.” - he paused - “It was never part of my intent to insult you or your country. I apologize, Aunt Sirithil, if it was taken in any other way. It is true that I feel that being allied with the Necrontyr has turned out to be unprofitable, but certainly I wish to remain a friend of the Noldor, and I will go and make the proper apologies as soon as the Artaoron can schedule my speech.”

Sirithil nodded. “Very well. I will see if they can clear time soon.”

“Now my dear.” - Cassiopeia crooned, putting her hands on Alexander’s shoulders. “You know of course you are not only Emperor and King, but also my beloved husband...” - she kissed him gently on the nose.

“Yes, my love?” - he said, returning the favor.

“You are teaching a history class.” - Cassiopeia hissed. - “In sixty-five minutes. Be like the wind..”

The Adolescent Emperor could not have gotten out of the room faster had he been bodily thrown out of it.

“Yes, this is how it is.” - Cassie sighed.

“Mmm, don’t I know it,” answered the Elentári. “He has had me facepalming for weeks.”

“I love this man, Aunt.” - Cassiopeia said. - “For all this, I do.”

Sirithil nodded, and sighed. “I know.” She paused. “I need to go, though. I have another call and I need to take it.”

“I’ll talk to you later, then.” - Cassiopeia said - “I will go and see to certain affairs I must handle here. Have a nice day.”

“You too.” And then she was gone.

Sirithil did not have another call. She did, however, make another call, and soon holos of Third Fleet Warlady Naurelin nos Fithurin and MISSION Vice-Shadowlord Melcínitan nos Círdan were hovering above her desk. “The treefolk gathering,” she told them, “is currently at a park in Reichsburg. You should see it by the forcefield over it.”

“Mmm,” Melcínitan said with a chuckle. “Not very subtle, is it?”

“Do you want the slavers incinerated, my Lady?” Naurelin asked.

“No, not yet,” Sirithil answered. “I want both of you to watch that park like hawks. If any of them move, I want tabs kept on their locations and shooting solutions kept ready, just in case. Scarabs in their leaves if necessary. Check archived data as well in case any have already left. Keep me apprised of anything out of the ordinary.”

They nodded, and she ended the call.

[High Treefolk]

The Ashwood Forest
The Northern Woodlands of High Treefolk
The hour of The Heavenly King Torvald

The sky was glistening with the fading rays of the sun, with its hues staining the forest below with soft touches of orange and the wispy clouds were becoming pink as the sun kissed the horizon in the west. The soft bristle of the wind made the branches of the wood dance, cooling the leaves and soil which hid tucked away in the understory of the Ashwood forest. The quiet was interrupted by bristling of leaves and snapping of branches as a small creature hobbled to a small village hidden beneath the trees with the lobed leaves used to decorate the sod roof along with the long green grasses which was made deliberately to camouflage it with the forest, giving it the appearance of grassy covered karsts with doors covering the cave entries. The creatures living within the shelters were perhaps around three feet tall and had sharp pointed ears, with brownish button noses. Their skin was pale to dark brown with large eyes which were large and round with a subtle point at both ends, and they wore what appeared to be hand woven fabrics of various colors, with men wearing bright colored tunics and women wearing an embroidered wrap skirt and a tunic wrapped with a sash around the waist. The creature stumbled still, his breath coming in sharp pants as he wiped off a bit of cold sweat and one of the creatures spotted the young man heading in the direction of the nearest house and he pounded upon it.

“They come! We must go!” He shouted in panic. “Outsiders are coming! Hurry! We have to get out of here!” He said in a small voice, similar to the voice of a child. There was a sense of growing curiosity as the others listened and as the man spoke they began to rush to their homes and they carefully put out all the lights and pulled the doors marking their shelters as homes off and set them in the knooks which were kept in place. They began to attempt to seek the underground tunnels, attempting to get to the main shelter, not realizing who it was that were coming and passing through the wood, but knowing that outsiders would often prey upon their people, making it dangerous to travel in groups.

The sounds of the brook in the short distance away skittered a small deer off as there was movement in the forest.

The vehicle that approached was heralded by a group of bug-like machines, those who had been to Altea would be familiar with them as the heralds of necrons’ approach, in the trees, landing like colourful metal birds, or beetles, in the branches but going no further, as the visitors approached, indeed, they were necrons, the ghost-ark that carried them heading in the upper parts of the leaves, visible from green lights on it, its pilot mounted at the back looked like the steersman of a boat on the waves of the distant Iss river, bright green crown rising above his head, as if a clerical headdress, but in fact the ancient dress of undertakers, a garb that would seem strange to those who were not conversant with the skeletal vehicles’ origins, as barques of the dead, such things were often worn by the necrons who piloted them as a sign of respect to their ancestors.

It landed in the settlement, navigating carefully down through the branches, there was in this dense foliage no other easy route, and putting down outside the area would potentially delay their approach. resemblance to a ship briefly ended as the passengers disembarked, in repose, necrons looked deceptively slim, and connectors merged with their lower spines gave the appearance of tails linked to the vehicle that carried them. Repair bugs nestled at the rear of the vehicle, equipped to mend the passengers, as needed, but for now quiescent. The necrons were moved on the metal tentacles that connected them to the machine, deposited on their feet, as they came to life, weapons appearing in their metal claws.

But not every passenger was a necron, and a tenth figure jumped down unaided, clad in green living metal armour, of a distinctly elvish look, actually a new design being field tested, he was nonetheless too short for an elf of any of the common types, standing scarcely more than four feet in height. He, at least, was the assumption from the beard visible through the polarized visor of the helmet he wore, but it was not necessarily an accurate assumption, for this was surely a dwarf of some description, and in point of fact a woman.

She moved with a calm assurance, as the necron warriors spread out around her, an escort, surely. She paused at one of the houses, observing the door ajar, and stepped inside. She carried no visible weapons beyond a holstered pistol, and leaned on a staff of stone, with a knob at the end worked into a globe of granite with white marble around it, a kind of stoneworking quite unknown in the lands of men. Even she found the place to be a little small, which one who had never seen the spacious splendour of a dwarven settlement would imagine to be odd. The necrons remained outside. As she entered the small settlement and entered the house, she would first notice it was as dark as night within, with small places designated as rooms, kitchens, and washrooms which seemed to use the water from the brook, but everything was quite miniature sized. With little tables and chairs and low ceilings within. There was a bit of wooden flooring which seemed to be hollow, as she could hear her steps echo underneath her.

She paused in place, tapping the stone staff with its hard granite base against the floorboards, before beginning to quite methodically look about for trap-doors or doors in general, in fact.

There was a latch upon a bit of the floor, which was slightly covered by a small mountain goat fur rug. As her prodding with the staff revealed it, her gauntleted hand reached down to snatch the rug aside and open the latch, she made a point to step back at the moment she did so, as she hauled the trapdoor up, quite aware that these people would be more dangerous than they appeared. The power that the Othlonites had hoped to harness from them was not merely potential. Sure enough as she backed away from the trapdoor, there was a sharp sound of darts hitting the spot around where she stood. The trapdoor revealed a ladder which was pulled down and knocked aside with evidence of shoeprints leading down into the caverns. Within there were also some webs of spiders and dusty pages of tomes left on the ground.

She stepped down onto the ladder, though not before prodding it carefully. The uses of a simple stick, though this was no simple stick, were numerous, “I am heading down into caverns,” she said, to the necrons, as she slid the books aside on the floor carefully.

“Is that wise? Send a scarab.”

“I will go,” she said, picking up the book carefully, examining it with eyes deeply accustomed to the strange texts prevalent in realms such as this. The pages appeared to have little sigils upon them and as they seemed to be written in a runic language, and it had various spell traps upon them. The area ahead had two ways, and the halls made of stone, had a few ponds where the scent of limestone mineral pools filled the area up ahead.

She flung the book away hastily, unwilling to read more, the art of reading without reading was one long known to her people, and raised into a high art form by those who were adepts of the sciences of chaos, but she was no more than a novice in that art, and she was not willing to expose herself more than she must. Regardless of its meaning, or quite what manner of trap it was, it was enough to know, and good to know.

Her armour conveyed the scents of the place, filters within its air systems allowing her to smell the calcium hydroxide within the water ahead, a familiar smell. Practiced eyes looked on the halls, and from comfort alone, she passed that way.

To the left corridor there was what appeared to be leftover footprints from mud and water, and it seemed to press forward, with the open holes and alcoves above giving less of a claustrophobic feeling and the hanging moss providing a springy green scent which was much better than what was up ahead. There seemed to be a hole allowing the sky’s light to pass into the area, showing a bit of the stone seeming to be oddly elevated in relation to the ground below. The closer she looked, the more she would be able to notice there were actually quite a few of these raised stones.

She reached out with her staff, whacking its knobbed end against the ground away from one of the raised stones, and listening. As the stone was knocked about there was a slight change in its position, but there didn’t seem to be much reaction until a small mole headed through, passing over one of the rocks which sunk down and to the little mole’s misfortune, the creature burst into a flurry of fur and bloody gibs. The half exploded skull of the mole landed at the dwarven woman’s feet.

She raised an eyebrow slightly at the crudity of the trap, at least to her mind, she was imagining that the floor might break away or something, but it seemed much less advanced than that, she prodded the floor a few times and began a careful advance, scrutinizing the way as she walked. As she made it to the far western section, she found the cave descending further, with no more skylights to offer low light within the cave. The walls had little bits of writing upon it, they seemed to give vague directions indicating that there was an antechamber ahead with the ‘sun as their guardian’. The area opened ahead to a lit space where there were large everburning torches placed upon a plinth of stone upon the four sides of the room. Upon the ground was tiles that resembled a disordered checkerboard, with symbols that resembled the sun, moon, earth, stars, water, rock, and wind. There was the slight odor of ash.

Now this was harder to work out, she decided, wondering who had built this place in the first instance, it seemed to be an effort not reflected in the settlement on the surface, if they could build these halls they would not need to live in simple surface settlements, after all, it seemed more like something her distant cousins might have devised, which also meant the trap was probably similar. She took a water bottle from her belt, throwing it onto one of the paving stones ahead, this being more like what she had imagined, she aimed for the rock, of course. Only rock was a symbol of stability. The others, time, perhaps, but not constancy. As she tossed the bottle on the stone symbol, the burning smell from the torches became more intense for a moment before there was a huge swoosh of steam coming from up ahead, but it merely made the cave wet and dank. The platform did not move however, and as the bottle rolled off the stone platform, and fell on the wind platform next to it, the bottle fell right through the block, as if there was nothing actually there.

She stepped back, gathering dust and stone dust from the ground for dozens of paces, and mud besides, in handfulls, leaving her staff in place, speaking works for a moment that none could hear but her and whatever she spoke to, the water in the mud burning from her hand, drying it into white-grey powder, before she threw it forwards across the ground, if the floor was partially illusory then much of it would fall through. Indeed it did, with the stone and the sun platforms staying up, while the others fell and disappeared below with the chasm below marked with sharpened bamboo spikes which had herbicide upon them. There seemed to be a few treefolk and dwarven corpses below with various signs of decay. Some looked recent, while others seemed ancient and shambling.

She stepped forward, still eschewing the sun symbols, seeking to cross without touching them, measuring the gap with the staff before each step.

The sun symbol path led to the northwest, and the stone symbol to the north east, and they seemed to hook in different directions with stone symbol leading to a wide hall which had a precipice where a stone bridge helped cross to the other side. There was a mushroom garden and a few various signs that people had passed through, like crushed mushrooms and scattered stones from the bottom of the cave floor. The way ahead was dark, and she could hear faint whispers ahead.

“I mean you no harm! I am alone and have come only to speak to you!” she called in the local common cant.

“Oh, it is another one of us, come in quickly before more of them come! We’ve already lost two more. You mustn’t stray too far from the village. It’s not safe anymore.” An older boy’s voice called out. “Come into the fold, quickly.” He said as he seemed to be addressing another with him. “I have assurances that none with hostile presence have come so far.”

She came on as they spoke.

“They will come soon. No doubt at all.” A little girl’s voice said as she seemed to be a little exhausted, and there was a few tired pants. “How could they move so fast?”

“The trees. They’ve betrayed us. The sleeping trees can hear everything.” One of the other younger children said.

“I am a traveller,” she said, “You may find my appearance frightening,” she warned.

The villagers looked at the female dwarf in confusion for a moment and then they seemed to be relieved.

“Wotcher mean your appearance looks frightening?” One of the little ones said with a tiny voice. “Look awright to me.” He said as a taller one, which appeared to be a woman boxed his ears . “Owch!”

“Who are you?” A little withered creature said. His voice was still childlike but he had a beard and was bent over with age. “A traveller you say, but from where. T-Terradin is quite far from these lands.” He said with a wheeze.

Her hand reached up to the transparent visor of her armour, sliding it up and back, folding in on itself. Her countenance was wizened too, as one might expect of a dwarf, and bald besides, it revealed as she undid her helmet and removed it fully, balding, but with long hair pulled back into a topknot pinned with brass, her beard cut short, that she was a woman was barely discernable, and unlike many dwarves her skin was dark, the colour of black slag, her eyes hard and grey, but wrinkled with laughter lines. “I am from far further, do you know of Crystal Spires? I take it you do, if you know of Terradin.”

“You are from the East? Oh, this is an even greater relief. Can you help us? Are you an Orderite? An Uncorruptible? I know your kind care not for the borders of the nations so long as justice is served. I do not want to overstep the law here, but I need help. Anyone who can help.” The old man said with a tired wheeze. “Please… there are people. They come to our villages, and they steal our children. We know not when they come, nor where they go. We talked to the local police, but they care not for our plight. Month after month no signs of respite. No one cares.”

“Easterners? Thank the Gods.” One of the women said with a sigh. “I had worried for a moment that perhaps you were another one of them.” The woman said with still that soft childish voice.

“I am in league with them, though I come from the realm of the C’tan, if you have heard of it, best known for Princess Luna, by others. And I have been sent to help you.”

“The starfolk? We have heard of your people as well. They are the ones that are in the far east in the realm of man, yes?” One of the older men said with a look of surprise.

“You have heard of them, Arnor?” One of the others with a beard said in disbelief.

“Aye, Valefor had informed me of the case. I had through the eyes of the eagle seen and bore witness to the types of heroism of the starfolken. They are called ‘katarn’ yes?” He asked the dwarven woman. “If so, I do in fact know your kind. Proper like the Eastern of Tol’ bri’seer.”

“I hope that those you have seen meet that expectation,” she said, “That is us, yes,” she said, “We have come here now, too. You said they come? Have your friends seen this?”

“Aye, Miray has seen the snatchers before. Look like sleeping trees, she says. She don’t say much anymore now.” The man said with a pained expression. “Came back broke, and without a tongue. She talks to us still, and to those who listen, but it’s a special talk that comes from here.” He said pointing at his forehead. “Can you hear?”

“That’s enough Ralfel, I don’t know that she will believe us either. It’s not like anyone ever does.” One of the women said as a rather disheveled woman stared at the dwarven woman, with her eyes becoming clouded and they glowed with a soft blue light. There was a soft whisper into the dwarven woman’s mind.

“They come with blades, and axes. Many of them bearing the sign of the cross turned on its side like a thistle branch. They tear out the tongues of those who refuse to call, and they kill those who cannot call. I fled. I cannot speak through words any longer.” the voice said as her eyes returned to normal.

Another of their number’s eyes glowed for a moment but the dwarven woman could not hear a thing, and he spoke to the elder.

“Anduras has informed me that there are others upon the settlement. Great creatures of steel with great axes that glow like the life stream. They do not appear hostile, but they are above ground.” He said as his eyes returned to normal.

“I believe you,” she said, aloud, “You have my thanks. We have medicines and treatments that may be able to help you.” she said, mentally, to the woman who had spoken.

“You do?” One of the women said surprised, her eyes wide and her cheeks blushing at her assumption. “I… am shocked. Just about everyone told us that we were imagining things. And when we told them that we can speak to others through the mind, they said it was crazy and inadmissible. They don’t understand us at all.”

“More so, I do not think they care one way or another.” The creature said with a sigh. “But we must not give up hope! We will find the others and return them safely.”

The elder spoke once more. “We are the Yorae clan, the clan of summoners from the western mountains that wander. We have been forced to wander many, many years, because if we do not, we become prey to the many other persons who covet our power and those who wish to use them for the wrong ends.”

“We have found the truth of such things, which casts a darker shadow on the persecution of your kin in Altea and beyond than even we had suspected, and come to seek you out, the necrons above are my escort, should any such trouble you now.”

“What are necrons?” The elder asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I am not sure, but I believe they are the persons above. Are they the persons above, they with the great axes?” The young man asked with his hands in his pockets.

“They are, the army of our people is mostly composed of such.”

“Anduras is watching them now. They do not seem to be hostile, so I can presume we may exit the chamber, or is it risky to return to the village?” The elder asked with his green eyes tired with wrinkles of exhaustion.

“Unless you expect danger to arrive presently,” she said, “then it is safe.”

“Very well, let us return to the village.” The elder said as he began to lead with his staff in hand and the others marched forward, some of them carrying their tiny children on their backs, held with a long cloth wrap. Others helped the older and weary, and they went past the bridges of stone and as they reached the other side, one of the younger among them restored the spell that was cast upon the area to reveal the false platforms, and he restored some of the traps, a few others were placing new traps in place to ensure that they would have new places and ways to defend themselves if someone else hostile attacked while their guard was down.

As they reached the crossway where the two caves separated there was a clatters from the other side of the cave and the elder paused and raised his hands.

“Elder!” One of the women whispered. “Is it…?” She paused and he shook his head. “I cannot sense another tree or another reasoned being. Perhaps a rat.”

“Oh, then we shall be okay…” She said hopefully as there was a another scuttle, but then there was a soft spindly noise overhead.

The dwarf woman pulled her helm back into place, visor enhancing the light as she looked upward, stepping away from helping an old man. Above there was a group of three spiders about as large as a small summoner child which were spinning their thread quickly around a large bug that was about the size of the elder summoner’s head, but the spider didn’t seem to be all that bothered by the presence of the summoners nor the dwarven woman below. That is of course, as they spun more webs and there was a faint buzzing that could be heard from the distance. Upon the surface there was the loud sound of buzzing which was loud enough that it resembled the sound of several lawnmowers buzzing at once, and a cloud of enormous mosquitoes the size of large fat housecats began to swarm over the area, untroubling the necrons, but if there was any human, elf, or dwarf which contained red blood, they’d be in for a nasty surprise.

“These are known to you, I hope?” the dwarven woman said, hand dropping to her pistol, a most unsuitable weapon.

“They are terrible creatures.” The elder said as he held his hands up and the majority of the summoner’s eyes were aglow with red light. Upon the surface there was a crackling sound as little globules of light began to form and some of them gathered and took the form of personlike deities, others the forms of animal like deities and some seemed to look like creatures imagined in dreams or nightmares. Immediately they began to smash angrily and viciously at the enormous mosquitoes, and they were not seemingly harming or otherwise disrupting the necrons nor those about them. within the cave there was only one of the globules which began to blast the mosquitoes violently with a pulse of electrical energy. The gun that the dwarven woman carried managed to pierce through one of the attacking mosquitoes, but naturally there were more than one of the creatures coming at once.

The necrons were not disgusted by the sight of insects, but the situation was clearly one of significant threat, and soon both they and their transport were firing in controlled bursts of green fire, but they had another weapon too, there were other bugs in the trees. The scarabs that had accompanied them were spurred into life by a simple request, and took to the air, surging toward the mosquitos, bladed limbs gleaming wickedly sharp as they flew. The mosquito creatures were routed and some of them quickly fled, reading their opponents to be of far greater strength than they were, and breaking away from the area. If there had been anyone with bites, they would have enormous golf ball sized welts and they would feel terrible pain and itchiness from the bite location. The summoners had one such person who had been bitten in the fray, and one of the others had created a large piece of ice from the void in their hands. He applied it to the bite temporarily, and had a bit of cloth ripped off to press and hold it tightly against the sting.

The dwarven woman holstered her weapon, moving to the injured person, “Do you need me help?” she asked, though she knew little of first aid.

The scarabs, meanwhile, pursued, surging after the mosquitos to attempt to run down as many of them as possible, which was not difficult, as the mosquitoes were rather scattered from the surprise necron and Aeon attack. They were discombobulated in their flight paths and some slammed into trees in their fright.

After a moment, the scarabs backed off, some pursuing just to find any nest or ground to which the hostile creatures went to. The creatures didn’t seem to have a nest perse, but continued to head toward one of the creeping swamps in the western wood. They perched upon some of the enormous cattails, and some were caught by surprise by enormous toads which snapped their sticky tongues at them and munched their bones easily. The toad seemed happy of course until the toad shot its tongue at a scarab, presuming it was food. The toad promptly exploded as the scarab set off its anti-capture protocols and detonated its explosive systems.

The summoners were beginning to calm down and the injured summoner nodded his head to allow himself to be examined by the dwarven woman. He had an enormous welt upon his arm which was inflammed and itchy and the summoner had to resist scratching and his eyes were streaming with tears from the pain. He was a rather small man, after all and the bite was enormous and felt as if an enormous needle had impaled him and then drained his blood and replaced his blood with poison, flooding his skin with itching powder.

“Strange. Have they gone?” The elder asked as he looked over at one of the summoners whose eyes were still aglow, but instead of red light, it was soft passive blue light.

“I see bugs, but they are not the same. I do not know if they are hostile, but they have run off the horrible creatures.” The summoner said as his eyes returned to their normal form.

“They’ll be the ones with us, they’re quite useful,” the dwarven lady said as they went on to the village. As they reached the village, the villagers carefully raised the ladder and climbed up the ladder to emerge from the elder’s home and began slowly, but surely filtering to their homes and turning on their lights, examining their property for anything lost or anything destroyed in the confusion. Those things that were broken or trampled upon were set in a specific area and other persons collected them and took them to another summoner who would carefully attempt to repair them and those which could not be repaired were gathered to be discarded.

The Elder waited until everyone was out before he himself, slowly climbed up the ladder and settled himself down upon his chair for a moment before stepping out of his house to examine the group of necrons about. The other villagers were skittish around the necrons, but not because of their appearance, but rather their sheer size. They were used to trees towering over them in said fashion, thus they had a moment of surprise when necrons moved or took a moment to speak with them, if any would. The elder pulled out a small teapot and heated it upon what looked like a stone stove which heated up.

“Would you like some tea?” He asked as he offered it to the dwarven woman carefully, attempting to avoid burning himself.

She removed her helmet again, “Certainly,” she said, “I have some questions to ask you.”

“Of course. And of your tall friends who wear the bright steel with light axes?” He asked with a calm expression which seemed to be riddled with less wear. “They don’t like tea, do they?”

“Not in this form at least, no,” she said, “How long have these abductions been happening?”

“Since an innumerable past. I do not remember when we did not have to fear the outsiders, but I can say that abductions to our clan particularly have become more prevalent since twelve years ago. The Akai Clan has all but disappeared last summer. We fear the worst for them. The Denasa clan has told us that they have been suffering from disappearances just two months ago, so they too are attempting to take more aggressive measures like we have against those outsiders who would bring us to harm. There is also the Melid Clan which is also suffering, but they are hesitant to take stronger defensive measures.” He said starting. “There are over seventy clans in all, but there used to be thousands of us, all throughout the Mist Continent. We are truly in a state of terrible disarray.”

“You contact one another by telepathy I imagine?” she asked.

“We use telepathy when in close distance. We use Eidolon messengers when the distance is far. Our ability to use telepathy is great, but we have still our limitations at a far distance. The telepathic connection we have with Eidolons is much more easy to use rather than the one here in the prime material plane. Distances between one another is short upon the farplane, however, as I imagine the vastness of the farplane dwarfs the enormous vastness of this planet, or nay, this universe.”

“An open question. I have known those who have explored the planes to report wildly differing theories on their compositions, the trade-barques of the planes of substance and the stellar reefs of the lands of midnight tell of wildly strange places to be sure,” she said, “Always changing, and always relative these things are.”

“Indeed, this is true, because the farplane as it is vast, it contains landscapes far different from the material plane. Some of them are beyond our comprehension. They are like imagining dimension in a completely flat world. The rest of them are barely conceivable to those who have never seen them before. Some are as benign as a quiet glen, and others madder than pandemonium itself. Not that Pandemonium is itself a plane worth going to.” The elder said with a shudder. “I imagine that there are many questions you may have, but I ask if you would like cream and sugar in your tea?” He asked as he offered a small jar with tiny sugar cubes.

“Neither, brewed bitter,” she said, “I have seen such places of course, in my youth I spent more time in the trackless depths of the circle worlds than I did in the land of mixed things with Tyathon of Aldmer and Setmose, whose stories are well known, I have seen the dark barriers between realms of infinite fire and the bright woods, and yet, here there is something subtly,” she looked at the woods, “wrong about the world. Would you not agree?”
“I am not sure if something is wrong, but rather… something is changing. There is a shift upon the direction from which our world is moving. Whether this indeterminate future will have us in it as a part of it, I do not know. I do know that I wish that it is so. There is a saying among my people, that the entire cycle of life is much like a spiraled thread, and between the millions of years, about every thirty six or thirty five million years there is a period of massive growth, then a period of massive death, leading to death holding reign in a cycle of time every 62 million years. We are reaching the death side of the spiral, and perhaps we will live, but what will come is unclear. Our people do not fear death in the sense that we view it as a finality or an end. We do not however, seek it out.”

“If you believe virtue has not yet declined to its lowest point in these lands, I hope you are mistaken, I would rather imagine that there is little ill yet to be revealed; ancient terrors and menaces are but a brief challenge, compared to the perversions in the mortal soul, or at least, such is what I have found in the Way,” she said, “but less of that, tell me more of your people, are all summoners of the same kind?”

“The same race, the same spirituality? The same kind of what?” He asked with a look that resembled confusion. “Summoner tribes vary by lineage, and some lineages are more selective than others. Some are more inclusive, and others are more divided. Ours is a small tribe, and ours is neither selective nor exclusive, and yet people of other races do not often consult us for our wisdom. Some of our others have split off and spread the Yorae lineage beyond our tribe, and others have become elders in their own right. Many of them are more respected than us for their appearances. Our appearance as you can see, is not something that conjures the idea of great respect or even great power and great magic, even if others among the tribes acknowledge us as having great power.”

“The same race, was what I meant,” she said, “but all answers are valuable,” she said, sipping the tea thoughtfully, “I expect it is only fair that I give you some news and answers now,” she said, as though sharing information was to be done grudgingly.

“Please tell us what we may do to help us find those who were taken, and how to stop these evil persons. Please also tell us what we may to do honor those who have helped us, as I am more than willing to see what I can offer you, within reason.”

“I assure you I have no need for remuneration,” she said, “But to begin, our people recently became aware that the government of this realm had a hand in the crimes of the Communist invasion of Crystal Spires, and were determined to punish them. As they had taken to hiding behind the skirts of the Allaneans, we could not sanction them with any half measure, and instead invaded and occupied the country, though this was but a few days ago.”

“Is that so? We’ve not even heard of such things, as the tribes have been deeply concerned with what is occurring in the lands of Altea and Terradin, as we have become a bit of a minor scapegoat among non magic folk and even other magic folk.” He said understating massively what was occurring. “There are beliefs that our summoning has tore a hole in the veil between realms, thus causing the monsters to increase in volume and presence and power.”

“You have heard of the Regent’s efforts in Altea I hope?” she asked.

“It is why we know your name. The echoes have reached as far as here and your reputation precedes you. Tell me of your efforts of which we may not know.”

“We first became aware of it before the Crusade began...” she said...

[High Treefolk]

Maverick Monningham’s Office, Liberty-City, Free Kingdom of Allanea

Maverick Monningham was immaculately dressed - indeed, one could argue he was the best-dressed man on the Allanean mainland. He wore a grey suit and even wore a tie. His room - decorated with class and taste, behind his desk - a flag of Allanea and one of Greater Prussia, and a pair of paintings portraying Alexander and Cassiopeia, the two reigning monarchs of Allanea.

He spoke calmly, his words activating a set of hidden devices inside his desk.

”Computer. Dial me a call of Ranisath nos Ancalime’s office, please. Video in both directions.”

A ghostly ‘screen’ was projected above the table then, with the word ‘dialing’ blinking on it as it went.

Ranisath sat in a high backed chair before a window that was darkened behind him, indicating the local time perhaps, gardens of flowers barely lit by the ambient glow of the buildings of Fëanor Palace, he was dressed unusually, in a garment he’d not worn for some time, of white and silver, with long flowing clothes that made him look something like an ancient wizard, on his brow sat a circlet of mithril in a style distinctly elven, while on his neck was a segmented chain that held a lozenge-shaped padparadscha gem of substantial size. To his side was a beautiful pale skinned beauty with silvery hair that was pin straight, with enormous silver wings. Her soft blue eyes were smoothly painted with liner, which made them seem more almond shaped than deep set, and she was wearing a white draping gown with long billowing sleeves and an over gown with brocaded gold embroidery. She sneakily leaned over Ranisath’s shoulder, attempting to see what Ranisath was doing.

“Hello,” he said, looking to the hologram of Monnigham, “‘Mina, this is Maverick Monnigham, Foreign Minister of the Free Kingdom of Allanea. Say hello.”

“How do you do, Minister!” She waved with a coy giggle as she waved her carefully manicured hands.

“Good day, Your Supremacy,” - Maverick said to Ranisath, - “And Good day to you as well, Your Highness. I have never been better. I am however calling on an issue of international import, on which the relation of both our nations could, and likely does, hang.”

“The issue is I imagine, the recent declaration of war?” he asked. “The leading theory in the betting pool is that someone released a massive quantity of hallucinogens into the house of representatives,” he said. “It’s the only way it really seems to make sense.”

“The Senate. The Senate.” - Maverick sighed - “At any rate, at issue is the current occupation of the High Treefolk. As you have gathered, it is the renewed position of our government, after the recent hearings, that we oppose prolonged occupation.” - he paused for a moment, raising his hand - “Oh no, I realize you absolutely believe your cause is just. We however, on the other hand, are interested in cutting the occupation as short as possible by whatever means at our national disposal. Clearly war would be suicidal, and would likely destroy the Treefolk as well, however let me assure you that refusing to kill ourselves en masse in no way signals a lack of resolve otherwise.”

“We also oppose a lengthy occupation of High Treefolk,” Ranisath said, “I am not sure your people have an accurate conception of the nature of our presence in the country.”

“Our conception is that you plan to stay for something like a year or two, implementing a range of irreversible social reforms.” - Maverick said - “Further, we have a more selfish motive in trying to end the occupation - we want the nation’s decisionmakers to remember that we tried to do this thing.”

“‘Mina,” Ranisath said, “tell me, how do you think the Treefolk are ruled?”

“Before or after you came to fix things?” Eminɑ asked as she tilted her head slightly to the side. “Because before, there was no one ruling the Treefolk.”

“Before, of course, and could you explain that statement my dear?” he asked.

“Nobody was ruling the treefolk, because no one actually was running the government. There was no one who ruled, and no one being ruled. There was lawlessness.” Eminɑ said with a proud nod of her head as there was a patter and a flutter behind Ranisath as there was a whomp from behind as a small voice made an “Uff!” sound as a boy peeked through with his pretty violet eyes. “Rani, Rani! I found my block!” He said as he looked at Maverick with some confusion. “Hiya everyone.” He said with a grin. “I found my block, it was on top of the flower pot.” He said as if this was a great and difficult realization. “Are we talking with friends now, Rani?”

“Of course we are. We’re talking about treefolk,” he said, “How do you think their homelands were run?” he asked.

“I thought they weren’t run, lord Ranisath!” Eminɑ said with confusion. “That’s why it became a mess so messy that you had to put it back together, like when Vɑrsɛl left his tower in the middle of the room.”

“Hey! That wasn’t my fault!” Vɑrsɛl said defensively. “But I think for sure that if no one watches it, then the tower can get stepped on.”

“Indeed, but let the young king speak,” the C’tan said, “Varsel. Tree-folk, what do you know about their lands?”

“My Daddy said they have no laws there, and they are crazy. Crazier than the republicans back home. Crazier than the seditionists back home too. At least, they want laws, and police! So Daddy said they were bad and untrustworthy.”

“Now of course, Maverick, there is a point, and I will come to it, and I know your people consider anarchy to be an acceptable, even desireable form of government, but the kids have a point. And illustrate one.”

“I remember vaguely reports of the activities of Treefolk police, indeed I recall your forces have persuaded a large quantity of them to surrender. I recall also that the Treefolk state had enacted a range of banking regulations to prevent foreigners from competing with their banks, in violation of the spirit of CAPINTERN membership - so certainly it was no complete anarchy. That, however, is beside the point.”

“And the letter,” Ranisath said, “the spirit and the letter, and the entire sum of the treaty were not adhered to.”

“Thank you for understanding that it was no anarchy. An anarchic society could not possibly violate CAPINTERN, by definition.”

“Capintern membership requires ‘respect for the rule of law’ I have seen anarchies that do not adhere to that.”

“I misspoke. Certainly it could not violate the free trade provisions. Since an anarchy can’t have import tariffs. At any rate, you are negotiating in the C’tani manner - that is, rather than discuss what my nation desires, you try to persuade me we should not desire it in the first place. It is as offensive to me as an offer of bribery would be to you.” - Maverick said. - “Or, if you prefer, as offensive as if it would be if I summoned here the former rulers of Treefolk and had them argue their viewpoint, et cetera et ad nauseam. Could we please return to the original matter?”

“Please do, I would enjoy that,” Ranisath said, “The point is that you wish to discuss policy regarding treefolk with me. Before you can expect me to discuss a policy regarding treefolk, we must understand treefolk, to make policy in deliberate ignorance is madness.”

“Very well.” - Maverick said. “Computer, make this a conference call. Call Queen Ayliyah Mercine’s villa, please.”

“I didn’t know there was a queen in High Treefolk!” Eminɑ expressed with a raised eyebrow. “I thought there was only the Star of Morning? And a few of the older order left behind. I don’t remember ever seeing a coronation yet, especially since Princess Ellesime left the High Treefolk. I thought there wasn’t any other ruler there. It IS a Principality after all.”

“Perhaps it’s a new Prussian title they’ve bestowed. There are many kings in Greater Prussia.” Ranisath suggested.

“How strange, they are almost like Jarls rather than Kings!” Eminɑ tittered with amusement. “But I would have loved to see the Coronation of a queen, that would be very exciting!”

“She is Queen of her House,” - said Maverick patiently. - “That too is a Treefolk title.”

“But that is not queen of the country. There is none there.” Eminɑ explained with a nod of her head. “Let’s see if she will answer!”

There was a moment of silence before Ayliah’s voice could be heard on the other line. “Hello, you’ve called the Mercine Residence, how may I serve you?” A male voice said calmly with an almost smooth earthiness to his tone.

“The Foreign Minister of Allanea is speaking. If Her Majesty could provide us with some information it would be most useful to Allanea in a coming negotiation on the future of the High Treefolk.” - the Allanean explained.

“Please hold for a moment.” The man’s voice said as there was a jazzy music placed on the line which had a playful beat and there was a voice on the line. “Thank you for holding, you have been redirected to the office of Her Majesty, Ayliah Mercine, how can I help you today?”

“Your Majesty, I am Maverick Monningham. If you can give us a brief characterization of Treefolk government before the C’tani occupation, that would be extremely helpful to me.”

“Please hold for a moment.” The jazzy music resumed and the jazzy music replayed from the beginning twice before there was a familiar voice on the line.

“Is this Maverick Monningham?” The feminine voice with a regal demeanor asked with a coy slickness that seemed to smoothly flow off the tongue.

“This is indeed me.” - Maverick said - “As I was saying, I’d like you to answer me a couple of questions, Your Majesty. For the sake of your former Homeland if nothing else.”

“Of course, what questions do you have for me?” Ayliah asked with a cautious change in her tone.

“If you could describe to me the sort of social system that the High Treefolk had before the occupation, that would be useful to me.”

“Social system? What exactly do you mean? That is a very vague question.” She said with confusion ebbing into her timber making it sound slightly grating. “Do you mean… class systems?”

“How would you describe pre-war Treefolk? Would it be best described as an anarchy, an oligarchy, a social club for golfers, a free-market society?”

“An Oligarchy, with those who earned the highest merit in the national examinations becoming ruler of the Gathering. There was no inhibition nor regulation of business at all. That is not the job of a government, and not the job of the Gathering of Glause.”

“Except for banking, I understand that there were some limits on bank competition your friend Nimrie informed us of.” - Maverick pointed out - “But other than this, freedom was the overall rule, yes?”

“Of course it was, we value freedom and we also value a good healthy competitive market, so long as it is not overrun by foreigners. The banking controls were in place to ensure that foreigners could not overcome the native market. That would be as much as an invasion to our people as allowing foreign armies in.”

“Right, I understand your viewpoint, Your Majesty.” - Maverick said - “I have to reveal to you now that I am in the midst of a negotiation with Elenaran Ranisath to try and persuade him to end the invasion of your country. If you would like to participate then your voice is most welcome.” - he paused - “And now, Elenaran Ranisath, you see very well why we wish the occupation to end as soon as possible.”

“I do not,” he said, “Hello Ayliah, I do not believe we have spoken before. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“How do you do, Elenaran Ranisath?” Ayliah said with a bow of her head.

“The essential truth is that we do want the occupation to end.” - Maverick said. - “Let us commence the actual negotiation. The part where we see what we can do on our part towards achieving this goal.”

“Please, having invited Ayliah here, you could at least allow us to talk, it is of genuine interest to me,” he said, “How have you been treated?” Ranisath said without trace of irony.

“The Allaneans have treated me with kindness, and it is very much not something I expected otherwise.” The woman said with her cool icy terse tone of voice being reserved for speaking with Ranisath.

“I hope they are keeping you safe,” he said, “It was not through choice that I sent you there,” he said.

“I can’t imagine why anyone would think I was in greater danger here when I was a target by your government for your occupation, and why I am forced to remain an outlaw from my own homelands.”

“You never were the wisest group,” he said, “it is only a matter of time before surviving oligarchs, Othlon executives say, seek to silence you. Where you were, you were quite safe, which is why of course we were certain you could not remember details of the place, even from Ealdurimite mage-assassins, say. That is a form of safety Allanea cannot provide you. You would be in greater danger, of course, at home.”

“I have no wish to discuss my personal safety with one of the greatest threats to my personal safety, we’re here to discuss the people whom you are oppressing with your occupation which was taken in defiance of your friendship with the Kingdom of Allanea, and their friendship with us.”

“Should you be interested anyway, you are certainly able to return home, though I would not recommend it. You would be killed. It has been of some concern to us to keep your families alive, even, let alone members of the Gathering itself.”

“Why haven’t you allowed my family to leave the country? They have no desire to remain under your yoke.” Ayliah said with dissatisfaction. “I am still pointing that this is entirely your people’s fault. Why did you not even try to negotiate with the Gathering at all?”

“You had no meaningful power to negotiate with. You were little more than pets in your home country, as you are now, of the Allaneans, it is a sad truth. King Kazansky keeps you because he feels it justifies him. He means well for you of course, but does not respect you. And would warn those we sought to capture that we were coming. Your families are free to leave, and some have, but if you have not met with any yet, then I can only imagine few wish to follow you into exile any more than you wished to follow Ellesime.”

“That is an entirely different issue, and don’t speak of my family as if you know them. It’s insulting, and I am not here to talk about your endless lies. I’m here to speak about the occupation of my country which was unwarranted, unauthorized, and unjustified!”

“Now let me speak. It is a lie to say the members of the Gathering are not respected in Allanea, they are treated with the utmost respect. Now, furthermore, you are evading.” - Maverick Monningham said, clearly exasperated with the exchange. - “Allanea is a nation of twenty-three and a half billion people, a nation that up until recently was happy to count the Great Civilization among its allies. Surely we can be reasonable. Surely there is a way we can accomplish our goal on our end - this of ending the occupation, and minimizing the painful alterations to the fabric of Treefolk society - in a way that will not agreeable to you. Let us actually negotiate, rather than bicker on points of fact, or trade mutual insults.”

“My people’s policies are fact based. To have any hope of changing them, we must have facts, this is why I discuss facts,” Ranisath said. “And Ayliah, I presided over your sister’s wedding, I know something of your family.”

“There was no wedding, and I would prefer you cease mocking me and my family.” The woman said infuriated.

“It would be best you stopped taunting Her Majesty.” - Maverick said - “And to a lesser extent myself.”

“I am not taunting her, believe me, if I wished to, I am capable of infinitely less civil things. Let us discuss treefolk. And please, Maverick, confine yourself only to what you know of treefolk. Have you ever been there?”

“No, of course not, what kind of ridiculous question is that? Please stop dodging my question.”

“Have any of the advisors, save only the Gathering, whom you mentioned earlier, ever been there?”

“You are dodging my question. I will answer none of your questions until you answer the one this discussion started with.”

“Remind me again, while Ayliah is here, what that question was? How we can leave after a short occupation?” Ranisath asked.

“My exact wording was, I believe, ‘how we can cut the occupation short’, in other words, how can we persuade you to leave faster, while minimizing whatever social reforms - that ‘yoke’ Her Majesty referred to - your people will inflict.”

“First then, we must decide what we are doing in High Treefolk,” Ranisath said.

“What you are doing? I imagine imposing something like Freestian classical liberalism. If you imposed it in Crystal Spires it’d be a boon. To impose it on a free-market society that was nearly anarchist in buildup is... let us just say that if you tried to remodel Allanean society on the Freestian model, I would not be this polite.”

“Freestians? Is there some vogue for Freestian things in Allanea I am not aware of? I am not even certain how you conceptualize ‘Freestian Classical Liberalism’ it is a young nation, after all, without much history in that regard. But you should set your thinking aside from such matters of coin. The wealth of our Civilization is such that we barely consider such things these days.”

“And yet you are already preparing and deploying a new tax system, a new health care and education system. Now, again, our goal-”

“You are mistaken. Your information wrong.”

“Our goal is to retain as much as possible of what was before, a laissez-faire, near-anarchic arrangement with an oligarchy at the top. The sooner you leave, the happier we will be. If you choose to not negotiate this -”

“You are mistaken, your information wrong. You know nothing of our plans, you have no information. You are guessing, and your guesses are based on your paranoia.”

“Have you decided utterly not to negotiate a potential sooner, preferably rapid, departure?” - Maverick asked.

“They aren’t listening to you at all, Rani. Why aren’t they hearing a word you say? Is their phone not working?” Vɑrsɛl asked as he hit the machine. “This is what the temple used to do to fix things when they didn’t work. Mem said once, ‘if you kick something enough times, it’ll work’. She was right most of the time, sometimes when I got kicked too much it was hard to work, but the machines take more to stop working that way!”

“Absolutely I wish to negotiate,” Ranisath said, casually, fluffling Varsel’s hair, “but you do not understand. You think we are imperialists, like yourselves, who will impose our will on the Treefolk? You are mistaken.”

“Perhaps the next time we negotiate I shall ask His Imperial Majesty that Her Imperial Highness be made a party to the negotiations as well.” - Maverick said - “I have good reasons to mistrust you, prime of them the fact you consider yourself ‘fact-based’ - that seems to me to be like slang for ‘I turn on a dime’. Now again, let’s talk about hastening the end of the occupation.”

“Of course we do, we respond to new information.” Ranisath said, “You forget, the points of our ideology are so broad and vague that they dictate very little of our actions. If we have reason to build a road, we build it. If we have reason to privatize an industry, we do so. The way we will deal with the treefolk depends on what we discover there. This holds true for our administration as much as our military, did you know that one group of human analysts who attempted study of our fleet tactics concluded that there were no organizing principles at all? Or that if there were any, they were incomprehensible to them. Much the same applies here, the tactics we use are not what you think. I do not have a set vision of what Treefolk should be. Ayliah, are you still there?”

“I am not willing to discuss family matters, and I am waiting for you to explain to the Allaneans what it will take to get you to leave?” She said almost with a touch of doubt upon her voice. “Moreover what makes you think that this is meant to be something that is ‘enforcing the will of treefolk’? This is not about that at all, it’s about restoring it to its rightful state.”

“You may not be aware of it, given that your memories in refuge have been removed, I am sending you a video clip of some of the Othlon executives explaining just what was going on before our arrival,” he said, hand dropping from Varsel’s hair to the flat black table’s surface, nudging a block aside to tap out an instruction. “Please learn some of what we have learned before you make demands,” he said.

“You… you’ve profaned and altered my memories? How dare you! You think this is acceptable? You could have done anything to me and my memories could have been changed and I wouldn’t know it! What makes you think I trust you any more?”

“I did not think you trusted me in the first instance, if you would you would believe me when I say some very unpleasant people want you dead. I apologize for the ontological distress, but there is more at stake than your lives, and it is a procedure Kazansky agreed be inflicted on you in order to obtain you.”

“He agreed to have my mind defiled and my memories removed? W-Why?” She started as she took an audible breath. “We are done talking.” She hung up promptly as the others around Ranisath seemed to be surprised.

“She seems mad.” Vɑrsɛl said with a raised eyebrow.

“Indeed, it is a shame that she won’t hear the rest, it’s quite... interesting,” Ranisath said, “The Allanean policies with regard to these people have not been... thought out to their usual degree of rigour, shall we say.”

“Perhaps not, Lord Ranisath, but maybe they should be informed. After all, clearing up this understanding would make everyone happy, wouldn’t it?” Emina asked with a cheerful smile.

“Such wisdom, little princess, I have high hopes for you. That is indeed the way forward. Maverick,” he said, looking at the screen, “before any policies may be agreed, I request that an Allanean fact-finding mission be sent to Hi-”

“Enough. We are done with this discussion.” - Maverick said - “You have deceived one of the parties to the negotiation. The negotiation will not continue without the presence of Queen Mercine.”

“I have told her the absolute truth. Not one word of which has been a falsehood.”

“Computer. Redial to Queen Mercine’s chambers. Pray she agrees to have the talks.”

“I do not pray,” Ranisath said. “I grant prayers, sometimes. But I do not pray.”

The attempts to dial Ayliah went back to the first person. “Thank you for dialing House Mercine, how may I help you?” The man asked as he listened carefully to the voice on the other line. As they spoke, Ayliah was dialing Alexander Kazansky.

Leyfield, Alexander Blaken-Kazansky’s office

“Blaken-Kazansky speaking.” - the Emperor said, not checking the number recognition screen, whoever had this number must have been important.”

“Alexander… when were you planning to tell me that you’ve had my mind raped and my memories removed?” She asked almost dispassionately, but her words did not indicate such.

“I didn’t have your mind raped. My Uncle insisted the only precondition of having you freed was to remove a day’s worth of memory. What would you have me do, leave you in C’tani custody? What if the Spireans had decided to demand extradition or some such bullshit? I feared my Uncle would turn on a dime a day later and decide to have something even more horrible done to you. I had to act swiftly. Which is why I agreed to the ransom.”

“So did you question why they’d need a whole twenty four hours of my mind erased? What could possibly have been done to me that would merit removing a part of my mind? Did you question me if this was even something I’d wanted to have done to my mind in the first place? I don’t even know because as far as I know, MY MEMORIES ARE GONE.” Ayliah said finally losing her cool. “I could have been utterly tortured, my mind flayed of my skills and knowledge, and I don’t know because you signed my sanity away, and I wouldn’t have the slightest knowledge this happened to me until the enemy informed me of this while negotiating for the life of my country. What the fuck, Alex?”

“I thought I was saving your life.” - the Boy-Emperor said - “I still think I did. Had the Spireans asked to have you extradited, you’d have died a slow death. Had my Uncle changed my mind, you’d have died a slow death. I was afraid and ashamed. Do you remember how I begged for your forgiveness?”

“Your choosing to not inform me got my caught flat-footed in a negotiation for my country’s future, and now I am trying very, very hard to not panic, Alexander Kazansky, and now… I am going to have to talk to them again, and so help me Alex, I am not going to talk with them alone. You will talk with me, or I am not going to speak with them at all, because I need some sense that I am still myself, and that I haven’t lost my mind. Can you do that, Alex?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” - Alexander said, his voice contrite. - “Let’s see if we can get patched through. Can you brief me at first - what the fuck is going on up there? I thought Maverick was handling it.”

“He managed to let my family, and my life into this negotiation. I don’t even know why I was called to begin with, I was in the middle of a retreat and suddenly I get a call about the life of my country with the enemy speaking his callous lies with his hostages from the Beastling States taunting me from behind the receiver. Don’t think I don’t realize what was going on. I was caught entirely off guard, and now so will you. Connect us to the call with Ranisath.” Ayliah said to her secretary as they both breathed a breath at the same time.

“I thought I said we were done talking. Since you are being persistent, I will ensure I am not having my mind dangled in front of me, its fragmentation will be addressed at another time, but we are not going to talk about my life and safety, we’re going to talk about the freedom of my people from the C’tan.”

Ranisath looked at the screen as it flashed on, “Hello again,” he said, “certainly. Let us discuss this. Hello Alex, I take it that pleasantries are not on the table today,” he said.

“I am calm.” - Alexander said - “Not Cassie-calm, real calm. So I am taking it that negotiations have not so far gone well.”

“They have not so much as commenced yet.” - Maverick said - “His Supremacy has not yet seen fit to state any willingness to move his position towards ours, nor named any conditions. Indeed there had been a point where he had the King of Crystal Spires participate in the negotiations.”

“Hiya!” The boy waved cheerfully as if on cue, but entirely incidentally. “I am Vɑrsɛl!” He said warmly. “Rani is talking with his friends.”

“His Majesty is a pleasant little boy. Cassiopeia sends him her regards.” - Alexander said, with mock formality. - “So, Uncle Ranisath. I take it the meat of the negotiations has been reached yet?”

“Indeed not, I have been talking mostly about the existing position that I have, and what facts governed it, and how we arrived at it,” he said, “Before we go somewhere, we must understand where we are, and where we want to be.”

“Has Maverick explained comprehensibly where we want to be?” - Alexander asked, somewhat amusedly now.

“He said that as much as I’m aware he’s not interested in what is the best for all treefolk, only but for some. And Ayliah said so too, she said ‘she’s not interested in what is the best for everyone, but a restoration of what once was’, but If my father were here to say something about that, he’d say ‘again this is a return to lawlessness, which is terrible!” Eminɑ said as he looked over at the image again. “ I am Eminɑ Karliye Rɛgɑrberl, The Windsong: Lady of the Singing Winds, Princess of the Great Dynasty of the Unbound Ones in D'hɑlbrisir, and I don’t think we’ve met before. You must be His Imperial Majesty, Alexander Blaken-Kazansky, King of Allanea and Emperor of Greater Prussia, Duke of the Blaken Isles.”

“You have actually met, dear, he was here that time the young Duchess Ganduril was here, but you had to be rushed out of the door when I attacked that nasty little Rhegon man, remember?”

“Oh! Oh! I remember that, a dreadful thing! I almost fainted!” Emina said recalling her shock and fear.

“Well the odious little communist won’t be annoying us again anyway. He’s in jail now.”

“Indeed.” - Alexander smirked - “At any rate: our goal in Treefolk is restoring it as much as possible to its former state, with the obvious corrections. Is there anything we can do to make this consistent with your goals?”

“Ultimately, my goal is to have a High Treefolk where personal dignity and liberty of all citizens is protected and their prosperity promoted,” Ranisath said, “While I understand your goals were more limited, I believe that your plan for assassinations rather than direct invasion, or a limited invasion in the Allanean fashion, would not necessarily assist in meeting those goals. So much as killing the existing leaders.”

“W-What? You were going to have me killed?” Ayliah responded with shock. “B-But why?”

“My uncle had me persuaded you were a slaver, and that overthrowing you was the only way to abolish slavery in High Treefolk. I thought of a chain of assassinations as preferable to a massed invasion and occupation, which is what my Uncle advocated. I ended up, as you see, saving you. But back to the present. You have troops in the High Treefolk, I desire them to vacate the country as soon as possible, with minimal social reform. What could I do to help you secure the dignity and prosperity of individual Treefolk citizens, to replace that social reform? Should I organize some aid effort? Give up my personal wealth to give to the Treefolk poor? Surely we can agree on something.”

“He opposes social reform muchly, Lord Ranisath. I wonder if he’s opposed because social reform is a bad thing. Is social reform a bad thing, Lord Ranisath?” Eminɑ asked looking at Ranisath with confusion. “I thought Social reform was not bad.”

“Social reform does not exist, dear, it’s a process. Like melting. Melting chocolate in your pocket is bad, melting chocolate to make a cake is good, it all depends on what comes of it. Alex, I’m sure we can agree on something. But what kind of social reforms do you think I want to institute? Minister Monningham here, at least, believes I wish to impose some sort of Freestian Classical Liberalism, but that’s not the case at all.”

“Let me guess. You believe that the country is a complete shambles, and there’s a total lack of either private or public safety nets for the poor, so you with to introduce state support for them - schooling via vouchers, health care, the nine yards. Further I imagine you wish to introduce a universal franchise. Your Majesty,” - he nodded towards the portion of the screen that portrayed Mercine, - “Do you think the Treefolk experiment in freedom is compatible with such measures?”

“No, it’ll lead to tyranny.” She said with a frown.

“Alex, are you actually here, telling me, as the leader of Allanea, once described as the most democratic nation in the world, that Treefolken are not good enough to have democracy?” Ranisath asked.

“I will be as clear about it as I can: Allanea has democracy because we use it as a tool to secure freedom. I would prefer an autocratic ruler that reads Rand, Hayek, and Sirithil and then applies their writings, to a democracy run by entrenched progressives. I have lived in a democracy dominated by progressivism, and you know what I did? I went and founded a different country to get away.”

“A different country with more democracy. I suspect the Treefolken will be quite able to handle the responsibility, though I sense that Ayliah would disagree with me.”

“If they end up with a larger and more intrusive state, then it will be proof they have not handled the responsibility. Of course, as it is always with democracies, it will be then practically too late. But we are not arguing the merits of democracy here. Is there anything I can do to supplant those tactics of yours - those safety nets and that democracy - in part at least, with do-gooding of my own, so you can leave sooner and implement less of this stuff? Menelmacar gets along quite well without an elected leader, I am sure so can the Treefolken.”

“I am one hundred ten percent willing to give them the level of democracy that Menelmacar has,” he said, with a wicked smile.

“Please do not toy with me,” - Alexander sighed - “ I am willing to, for example, arrange for international measures to temporarily sponsor schools for the local children, and indeed I am willing to give up on large measures of my own wealth to support improvements, or to have some Prussian effort or Allanean effort supplant yours. If it is needed I will travel to the country myself to work on behalf of the poor. Surely we can reach an arrangement, if you are that unideological.”

“I have an ideology, it focuses on goals, not means, though. What do you think the status quo of education in Treefolk is, precisely?”

“Legally, the state is uninvolved in it, practically it appears to be non-existent.”

“Yes, we’re not talking ‘vouchers or homeschooling,’ we’re talking ‘vouchers or nothing, and a corporate sector interested in nothing being the status quo.’”

“My offer would be that I arrange for temporary funding for various schools to set up there, and for this to tide the locals over until the majority of the population is educated and wealthy enough to support a reasonable private-sector based education system - that is, years from now. The goal is that the system will not be permanent, but intended to be eventually scaled back.”

“So, let me set this straight in the minds of all here...” Ranisath said, “you want to avoid the institution of public education for the duration of my occupation... by paying for a substantially greater period of public education upfront. Get your chequebook out. Sold.”

“The tricksy trick is that your public education system is intended to be permanent.”

“No, not really.” Ranisath said simply.

“The point is. I am willing to support - either out of Allanean pockets, or if the Allanean taxpayer is not amenable, out of Reichskamphenite pockets, or out of Rejistani pockets, or out of Jeruselemite pockets, or failing this out of my own pockets, or whoever I need to raid for this - of some kind of social safety nets for the Treefolk, provided that these are for the period of the emergency that their country is experiencing, and will be gradually withdrawn as it gets back on its feet, and as long as it is clear to everyone they’re temporary.”

“I’ll send you the bill, I am utterly down with that,” Ranisath said. “Why would I not be? We are not profligate with our money.”

“Does this make it at least easier for you to leave?” - Alexander asked.

“Ayliah, how long does it take a typical treefolken citizen to reach adulthood?” the C’tan asked.

“Depends… Are we talking employable or elderhood?” The treefolken woman asked with a confused tone of voice.

“Could you define elderhood for the group? To most people here the term would mean ‘dotage,’” he said, fluffing Varsel the former child worker’s hair.

“I am not sure, but the age of elderhood is the age of determination, when one can legally have a family.” The treefolk asked another question. “So are we talking about elderhood or employable people?”

“Adulthood, elderhood as you would term it.”

“Average is one hundred and fifty solar years.” The woman said with a raised eyebrow.

“And that is the age at which one typically becomes fully competent to raise children, marry, and so on?” he asked.

“Of course.” She said with a calmer expression.

“Then we are talking about educating a generation, for a hundred and fifty years, are you sure that money can be found?” Ranisath asked Alex, “I understand that these people are not wholly evil, in some ways their culture simply takes so long doing things that the world moves around them. A hundred years ago they were the most prosperous and forward looking nation in their continent, now they are stricken by relative poverty.”

“They are still the most forward-looking nation on their continent, save for the Herd territories of course.” - Alexander said. “Now, are you absolutely fixed on the democracy issue?”

“I am quite willing to institute the Menelmacari constitution with the proper nouns filed off, I will even let Ayliah run for Artári...”

“You are sometimes as irritating a negotiator as the guy who replaced you as Elector-General.” - Alexander sighed. - “Oskar, that is.”

“Actually I’m helping you as much as I can here. But coming back to education, we also need to discuss adult education and training.”

“I’ve already said it: I’m ready to go hat in hand to every Greater Prussian state to fund a vast and temporary social safety net for the Treefolk, whether we’re talking education, health care, what-have-you, with the caveat that I will design this net to be such that it will be gradually disassembled as the country pulls out of its current emergency and no longer requires it.”

“You understand though, that temporary for Treefolken is not temporary for men, I’m sure Ayliah will agree with that as an axiom.”

“I suppose, but I don’t see what you mean.” The woman said with a frown. “We’re much longer lived than men, this much is certain.”

“And fully educating you will take longer, not because you are less intelligent, far from it, but because the pace of your life is different. For many treefolken will be ready to learn to write or to speak a foreign language well at one age, and to learn calculus at another, and these will be decades or even a century apart.”

“I am ready.” - Alexander said. - “I am ready to put these people on my back and carry them, even if it means my personal back and me giving up my loot from the ringworld adventure, or indeed going hat in hand to every Greater Prussian state, if it means, first off, that you leave the country, and second that it is spared a permanent social transformation. If there is a world where I am the true ally and protector of seven hundred and seventy million Treefolken, this is a world I am ready to give this wealth up for, and it is my duty to do so. Now, can we avert the specter of democracy as well?”

“We can have Menelmacar if you like.”

“You are now catching me by a misinterpreted word.” - Alexander said.

“Of course, but it is distressing to see my wife, heart of my heart, mentioned as an opponent of democracy, right after mentioning her political writings. Shall we pass over the many balances, failsafes, directly democratic recalls, and other safeguards of the Menelmacari constitution and discuss the issue of Democracy itself?”

“We should. But first. Your Majesty,” - Alexander addressed Ayliah now - “”What is your view of the proceedings thus far?”

“I sense there is a trick.” The treefolken woman said with a worried glance at the screen once more.

“The trick, can you see the trick young King?” Ranisath said, playing with a couple of the young skyborn’s blocks.

“I don’t see a trick at all, I am happy you like playing blocks with me, Rani!” He said eagerly as he put the blocks up.

“With what I was saying, how about you ‘Mina?” he said, “And I love playing blocks with you! Building is so important. We’ll build lots of cool things in Treefolk. You can come see them with me if you like.”

“Haven’t we just talked about hastening your departure, Uncle?” - Alexander said.

“I would like to see the Treefolk! Can I build a tower, Rani? I want to build a big, big tower!”Vɑrsɛl asked pleading happily.

“You can!” he said, and looked at the screen, “It takes far less than a year for us to dig a sewer, even in the complex upper geology of Treefolk. And they desperately need one. I’m sorry, Ayliah, I’m going to violate your people’s rights by giving them running water and flushing toilets. Fear my tyranny.”

“You are mocking me aren’t you?” The woman said with a displeased frown.

“Jesting, only, while helping your people. It is a sad fact that with so few of your people needing the complex life support apparatus that humans and other sapient-animals require, there has been very little private sector impetus to provide service to all areas for such things.”

“Right. For my good efforts, I want to have a solid date for your departure. It will be on the treaty, and as far as I am concerned, you should not be leaving a day later even if you discover Khorne, Slaanesh, Nurgle and Lilith nesting-”

“SILENCE!” Ranisath roared, genuinely angry, as angry as he’d ever been in the sight of the children. “Speak not of such things in front of my children,” he said, a moment later.

“I apologize, Uncle Ranisath,” - Alexander said, sounding genuinely contrite for a moment. - “But you see my point. If I am to be the ally I wish to be to the Treefolk, I need a solid date. Would you not agree, Your Majesty?” - he turned to Ayliah again..

“Without a date, I am not sure there will actually be a chance to have our nation ruled once again by our people.” The woman said as Varsel’s eyes seemed to be filled with confusion.

Ranisath stroked his hair, sitting back, “We still need to talk about healthcare.”

“Are you okay?” He hugged Rani and cuddled the Star god, blissfully unaware of the terrifying names of the Chaos Gods spoken of before him, his innocence still great enough that he was unaware of the terror of the works of Chaos and it’s ability to draw upon his magic ability.

“Quite fine, it’s just... very rude to say such things. I’ll talk to you about it later,” he said, typing out a request to have someone booked in to teach both of them some pertinent mantras in the next week, “But yes, healthcare.”

“What do you want with health care?” - Alexander said, clearly exasperated - “I have already explained my view on Treefolken social services.”

“The thing is, Treefolken have unique needs, and the expansion of their society into the modern age, and their enthusiasm for foreign ideas, which is a good thing by the way, has resulted in no-one really having a plan to deliver their needs.”

“...you are making it difficult for me. Look. I am laying down an overall set of principles, and then people will write out the detailed plans. Here’s the principle: I will dance on my head if need be, to provide the various forms of social safety nets - health care, meals on wheels, schools - to the Treefolken, down to making myself a debt slave if there’s need, and provided that when the day comes, Ayliah and her people can do away with them eventually. When the time is right. This is the set of principles, and I am willing to work hard for it. But there is utterly no need for you and me to hash out every form of social safety net which exists when we have clerks and adjunct diplomats who will work this out into a fifteen-page treaty by tomorrow morning. Let’s move on.”

“Okay, I’d still like to talk about this in some detail, if not with you then perhaps with Ayliah, whose insight and knowledge is no doubt valuable, and whom you can trust... but let us say provisionally that we will be able to make such an arrangement. I will also have to discuss the matter with some partners, and we are in any case looking about single-figure years, not months, here. But some manner of compromise is possible there. Likewise I need to discuss this with the senate.”

“Years? What kind of-” - he glanced at the children, and then paused, before continuing in a distinctly un-Allanean way - “what kind of extremely complex social problems are you facing there that you cannot solve with two battalions in two hours?”

“I don’t solve social problems by shooting people. No man no problem is not my way,” he said, looking at Ayliah.

“Your Majesty,” - Alexander said - “Do you agree to the deal so far, or are there aspects you would like to take issue with?”

“Who are you planning to shoot in my country?” Ayliah asked with a horrified expression.

Ranisath looked on as if he was not sure who she was addressing. So did Alexander.

“Alexander Kazansky, who do you intend to shoot in High Treefolk now? I’m aware now that you tried to kill me even if I did nothing wrong. Who are you trying to kill now?” Ayliah said with disgust.

Alexander facepalmed. “There are renegade slavers in your country, slavers who may even now be trying to assassinate your friends in the Gathering. I would hope they can be tracked down and dealt with in less than... single-digit years? My Gods, Uncle Ranisath, if it were not for the children in the room.”

“Five minutes ago you called ME a slaver. A potential slaver, and then I find out you wiped my mind with god knows what. I find out you were going to sell me upriver. I am not even sure if you are on MY side as much as I wished it to be true. I trusted you and this is how I am rewarded for my faith in you?!”

“I was told you were a slaver by people who misrepresented the facts to me. You see I have recanted, I have done my best to save your life and I have begged for your forgiveness. i have ended my alliance to the Great Civilization because of what they have done to your country. And even now I am negotiating on its behalf, and have made you a party to the negotiations. What can I do, for you to trust me once more?”

[High Treefolk]

“And the Great Civilization has declared that they are avoiding killing my people, and are even claiming to offer me my country back, and I am trusting you still, but your assertions to destroy innocent people before me once more is a shock to my confidence. Neither of you feel like you have the mind to restore my country from how it was almost utterly destroyed.”

“You have my word that you will receive every assistance from your allies.” - Alexander said. - “Now, the main issue is, why is it that my Uncle feels he must stay there for years, and can we cut those years down to months somehow through our help? In five years I could turn Scandinvans into a glowing paradise.”

“Your idea of a paradise for Scandinvans involves shooting everyone, I don’t disagree, but we’re talking something more sophisticated here,” Ranisath said.

“What I mean to say is that - were social reform even on the table, it still doesn’t take that long, particularly in a country as liberal as the High Treefolk. They don’t really have that far to travel to be a free society, which is why I want you out. What is there in the country that requires years to solve even granted that someone else deals with the safety-net institutions?”

“Counting them.” Ranisath said, deadpanning.

“And this is such an important thing to do that you are willing to occupy a foreign country for years to do it? I don’t know exactly how many Allaneans there are and yet I am telling you straight up, Allanea does not require necron presence.”

Ranisath laughed, “True, and it’s not a census that worries me. There are communities of people who have been kidnapped en-masse in treefolk, had their tongues torn out or been killed for the goals of the corporate leadership,” he said, switching to the unpleasant sounding Black Speech of Sauron for the statement, leaving probably everyone but Alex confused there.

’Slaver vermin. How I hate them. Must they ruin all that is good and proper everywhere. I hope they are skinned and children’s toys made from them. What even the cocksucking fuck.’ - Alexander was visibly saddened by the revelation.

“The goal is to turn them into materia, which they use for trival toys, even, some of these communities have, naturally, hidden themselves well,” Ranisath said, “I can probably see to vacating the cities much sooner, maybe within two years or even less. But some manner of oversight will be necessary, either by my people or your gendarmes,” there were few words for law enforcement in the Black Speech “for many years to come.”

“Your Majesty,” - Alexander turned to Ayliah again. “There are escaped slavers in your country, possibly hundreds of them, kidnapping people and doing mischief. We can get my Uncle to vacate the big cities within a year or two, but oversight from either Prussian or C’tani authorities must remain in some way to hunt the remainder down. At least this is my Uncle’s position. Uncle Ranisath, I trust you can share documentation about those slavers with Queen Ayliah here?”

“Of course,” he said.

“What information do you have on the filthy Ealdurimite spies?” She asked as she frowned. “Argh, I expected this to happen once this invasion would take place. You’ve weakened Treefolken border integrity.”

“Actually, we reinforced it very rapidly. There are... parties in my government keen to talk to Ealdurimite spies and troublemakers. Soon every bird and bush there will be reporting on such movements.”

Alexander laughed. “Remember, Uncle, Aediron Cromvir is mine.”

“There is truth in what you say, even more so now that we believe that many of the most shameful of your people have fled there. Fear not. A special doom is planned for the Ealdurimites. They will look upon you with envy.”

“I am not convinced this is so, but I am not also convinced you will hold to your word. I want a promise. A time or date in which your people will be removed from mine. In your distraction, you’ve neglected to offer a timeline.”

“I do not have the power to bind us to that yet, but I will do what I may to draw such a plan.”

“Then give us solid checkpoint marks. Things that must happen to give solid accomplishment of these goals..” Ayliah asked once more.

“And you shall, if I can deliver, have such, but I am not an autocrat, I cannot change our plans on my own. I can give you a formal understanding that I will exert what power I have to make it so...”

“Very well.” The woman said with frustration on her features.

Alexander sighed. “:Now I think you’re totally hell-bent on having a democratically-elected thing. Ayliah, do you think we could come to a compromise here? Say, with a bicameral legislature, with an elected chamber and the Gathering as an upper chamber?”

“Why would I want some sort of depraved popularity contest over those qualified for the job? The whole point of the examinations is to weed out those who just are attempting to brainlessly lead us, and instead have aptitude for the job. Without the intellect required, we’re going to have morons making decisions for the people. Quite frankly Democracy is the worst possible type of government because people are emotionally led on by various buzzwords and good PR rather than a good fuckin’ idea.”

“The fact,” - Alexander said - “Is that your country is held hostage by a horde of democracy fanboys with Stellar Converters. If we try a hostage rescue, everyone in Treefolk and Allanea will die. Do you understand me? Oh and I’d like it you did not swear in front of the Little King.”

“He’s heard worse, don’t worry too much. Alteans are not good for that kind of thing. Especially not when necrons turn up and fling them out of their temple.”

“Right. So as I said. Republicans with Stellar Converters. I want the Gathering to retain a measure of power, you want this, Uncle Ranisath wants democracy and he has a Q-Bomb and seven hundred million hostages. Even if I outgunned Uncle Ranisath, which I don’t, I still couldn’t rescue the hostages, so we are negotiating, Your Majesty.”

“Kiling people is not on the table, mind you. I will just... continue to govern them,” Ranisath said, “Not that I want to. But I’m not that much of a republican. I’ll happily install the Princess of High Treefolk as queen tomorrow. The coronation would be wonderful. And hilarious.”

“Then what is this stuff about Democracy then?” - Alexander sighed.

“It is the radicalizing effect of hanging out with too many Spireans. You don’t have to be a republic to be a democracy. Look at Allanea.”

“Allanea is not a democracy, it is a Constitutional Monarchy which combines democracy in the lower chamber and local governments, oligarchy in the upper chamber, and monarchy in my own humble person.” - Alexander replied. - “I am taking it you find the Allanean model of governance satisfactorily democratic.”

“The settled consensus is a little creepy. Almost like there’s some sort of conspiracy going on. Otherwise yes.”

Maverick Monningham gulped and paled visibly, he’s heard all too often rumors of a shadow group of corporate leaders manipulating Allanean politics from the shadows for the better interests of the nation.

“Of course, whether the gathering would be the same gathering is beyond me to say, I suspect a lot of their backers scapegoat them for their failure to deliver a consequences-free manipulation of the Spireans.”

“On the other hand, the flow of money and Prussian support this deal will engender might speak for them. Also I am given to understand that membership in the Gathering is merit-based, so at least some of the best and the brightest would return.” - Alexander pointed out.

“I believed it worked like our own Concigi in the senate, in that there was a limited franchise election among those with certain academic qualifications. Yes, we have such people in our senate. Pick your jaws off the floor.”

“Why have you attacked our culture and our people and our government, why did you threaten to kill me and ransom me to the Allaneans if you have a government similar to our own enough to be considered indistinguishable?” The Treefolken woman said with a furious groan.

“Well I wouldn’t say ransom. The Senate did accept Alex’s first offer after all.”

“You have Nimrie’s talents as a diplomat to thank for that, she was so awful at pleading for peace even I thought i was dealing with a monster..” - Alexander sighed. - “So, Your Majesty, bicameral legislature? I don’t think we can get better stuff here.”

“Also the genocide against the Spireans and the whole... people being turned into batteries thing, not that we knew that at the time, and the awful debt slavery” Ranisath said in Sylvan, before returning to common, “If you had approached us in friendship of course, you’d probably be getting along famously. Even if you had done so after those crimes, even.”

“No one knew about those things, and you have proven yourself to be untrustworthy” She emphasized.

“If Allanea had waged war on the Spireans instead of Nefreedians, I doubt much fewer of them would have died.” - Alexander pointed out. - “Of course, ploys and untrustworthiness is how my Uncle earns his bread. He once signed the Great Civilization up to a slaver alliance and killed all the members.”

“Don’t be silly. Slavers are not people. That’s like saying you’re disloyal to toilet paper when you take it out of its cupboard and use it,” Ranisath said.

“The point is, Uncle, that you are a trickster and I am a con-man who once participated in the grandest real estate scam in the multiverse, I can totally see why people do not trust us.”

“I suppose. But what say you Ayliah?”

“What is there to say aside from the fact that I would never trust a man like him?” Ayliah said with a frown. “I won’t believe what he says until the C’tani are out of the Treefolken lands, and the Treefolk’s Gathering of Glause is restored in its proper place as rightful rulers of the land. What form it takes is irrelevant, but it is unconscionable that invasion was sought before even a moment of diplomacy began. That is the greatest shame here, and the fact that not only did you invade us, but also kidnapped us and exiled us when he had done no wrong.”

“You did plenty of wrong. I have your taped confessions to plotting genocide.”

“I have done no such thing.” Ayliah said without genuine knowledge any such confession happening. “Your lies tire me, and I cannot take what you say as honest given you have factually engaged in mind control upon me.”

‘He refers, I imagine, to the invasion of D’halbrisir as an act of war, crimes against peace and such.” - Alexander sighed.

“True, there’s no civilized court that would convict you.”

“You’ve made a deliberate lie and engaged in mind control upon me and even if you were to have such a confession, I could argue that it was made entirely through coercion, I didn’t even have to have said a word, you could have made me say such with magic. Mind control magic is something you made deliberately clear you’ve used upon me.”

“No court can convict you, and no one will believe you here anyway. We all know you did it. If I remember rightly, Nimrie as much as confessed without prompting anyway.”

“I don’t think you understand your position with regards to this matter. There is nothing you said that is truthful, and you have said that you used magic upon me, if I did, I could believe nothing you said with regard to Nimrie either. The fact is, your honor as an interrogator entirely is in question, because you violated the mind of a sapient being in order to achieve what you wanted, which was to invade High Treefolk.” The Treefolken lady sneered.

“Your Majesty.” - Alexander said calmly. - “I know that your people organized the downfall of Crystal Spires. I don’t consider those actions a crime, indeed this is why I promoted Dallat Marpath. Allanea would have done much the same thing, except far bloodier, if Crystal Spires was our enemy. And we would have used more nukes.”

“We didn’t do anything. All that happened with Eames happened because of his own actions and his own desires to make right with Crystal Spires. He did only what he thought would make Crystal Spires a freer place, and the results with the Nefreedians were entirely related to the disgusting acts of New Freedomstan, not us.” Ayliah sneered even more.

“Deny it if you wish. That is the reason for the invasion. You attacked our ally, you have suffered. Your suffering has been, by the benevolence of Alexander Kazansky, and the fact that you’re mostly stooges yourselves greatly truncated. But there you have it. Your acknowledgement is not necessary. You refuse to discuss the matter of your people’s future then?”

“We have already discussed it, and you have already agreed to vacate from our nation. You’ve also agreed to return the rule to the Gathering, so there is little else to discuss other than when, which is something you continue to put off.”

Alexander sighed. “So we are all cool with the bicameral legislature idea, The Gathering and some kind of democratic thing? Just so we are on the same page here.”

“And the Gathering with the lesser powers,” Ranisath added.

“This is another way you’re attempting to take away our rightful power. I see this as yet another attempt to be unreasonable. We’ve no reason to grant the ignorant masses more power than necessary, as they don’t know what is actually needed to run the nation properly.”

“They could easily be made equal. Require, for instance, that both must approve every major bill.” - Alexander offered up.

“Nor do you. Your leadership is an unmitigated disaster, you are brave and knowledgeable, perhaps, but you are utterly without wisdom or discernment,” Ranisath said to Ayliah, “Certainly it must be junior.”

“Her Majesty seems wise to me.” - Alexander said. - “And were she even unwise, she is a party to these negotiations. You do not insult me, do not insult her.”

“As you wish, I shall use more courtesy.”

“It shall not be made junior, and I have no reason to reject that they be made equal, but I do not think it should by logic be made equal, because governing is not a popularity contest, and should not be one. It’s about giving the most knowledgeable person with the most experience in a field resources so that they can quickly address threats to the way society runs, and to the society itself. Jughead the Jock may be popular, but if I were to allow Jughead the Jock to run anything further than three miles on a football field, then it would be an unmitigated disaster, and we both know it. The fact that I underestimated you and lost to your invasion should not lower your opines of what I am capable, Ranisath. Quite honestly, we expected that you would act, but we did not expect the Allaneans to be so unresponsive to the situation to let our nation be invaded. That we could not forsee, given that Allanea mobilizes to defend lesser deserving nations within less than two weeks notice. So, yes, feel free to gloat from where you are, but do not dare suggest it was a lack of foresight. We saw this coming, we just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.”

“You are right, we did not react properly. It will take hard work and perseverance for us to regain our honor.” - Alexander said, blushing slightly. - “Uncle Ranisath, would you agree to a balanced bicameral legislature?”

“Two weeks notice was not given,” Ranisath said, when Alexander had finished. “I do not agree. I have given everything in this negotiation. That may seem weak, but it has its advantage. There is no deal if the new Gathering is not subject to the elected house.”

“What do you mean, ‘subject’? I imagine here a deal like our own Senate and House?’

“That is what I had in mind yes, they will make the laws, they will have the executive, or a new elected executive, and the Gathering may veto laws, but be overridden.”

“It should be able to propose legislation as well, as the Senate is.” - Alexander said. -”If it works for Allanea, it can work for the Treefolk.”

“It is less efficient than what was in place before, and it will slow things down greatly. This is unnecessary I feel, but I am not in a position to bargain, sadly. I would rather have your people gone, and us running our nation as we would run it. What that it would become a time where foreigners demand the shape of our government. This is ridiculous, but again, I’m willing to work with this.”

“I can agree to them posing laws if the legislature is necessary to pass them.”

“It is settled then?”Ayliah asked as she crossed her arms.

“If you are in agreement,”” - Alexander said, - “I am in agreement. Do we want to debate boring things such as timetables or leave those to our aides?”

“Mina, do you know where I keep the timetables?”

“I know where you keep the hour glasses, but not the time tables? Are there giant tables of sand that tell time, Ranisath?” The little boy asked as Emina shook her head to indicate she didn’t know.

“I guess you’re spared that, then,” Ranisath said.

“Alright then.” - Alexander said

“Then we come to discussing the price.”

“What is your offer?” Ayliah asked hesitantly.

“There must be an end to this war. Or at least whatever phony nonsense this is. We will draw up a new and equitable treaty between ourselves, to serve as a military and economic alliance.”

“You are suggesting I am to become your ally literally while you still occupy a Greater Prussia member state?” - Alexander laughed.

“The Treefolken state has ceased to exist. The C’tani-”

“The Treefolken state exists. You are negotiationg with the Treefolken head of state even now.” - Alexander said - “Her signature will be on our treaty.”

“I am not. She is merely an expatriate from the C’tani Territory of Southwest Mystr-”

“Then there is no treaty, go away and stop wastin the Emperor’s Time.”




“Mystria. And the Treefolken state that used to be there was never in Greater Prussia, being as a slaver, ineligible for membership. The treaty will acknowledge this fact. If you will not acknowledge that, despite having been keen to shoot Treefolken leaders by the thousand for slavery, then of course, withdraw from negotiations. It is illegal under Allanean law to recognize a slaver state is it not?”

“The Senate has reviewed the status of the Treefolken state as a slaver state.” - Alexander said. - “That is all the discussion I will have on said status, as I work for the Senate. Now. You are occupying a member state of Greater Prussia. We will negotiate an alliance, first, of all, conditional on all three parties agreeing to this treaty, and second, after your soldiers leave.”

“Four years,” Ranisath said, quite calmly.

“This is outright mockery.” - Alexander said - “Highway robbery, with stellar converters.”

“If you do not agree to my demands I will double the occupation duration every hour. At the next hour I will add to the treefolken constitution are requirement for single-provider state education indefinitely.”

“Is this four years until the last soldier leaves, or our years until you vacate the major cities?” - Alexander asked.

“The latter. If intransigence continues, on the second hour I will add single payer healthcare to the constitution. At the third, a minimum wage determined by the C’tan Empire.”

“You are threatening to oppress innocent people unless I become your ally?” - Alexander asked, raising an eyebrow.

“In six hours time, the occupation minimum will be sixty four years. At that point I trust my successors will guide the C’tani Territory of Southwestern Mystria to apply for membership of Crystal Spires.”

“Within four years, you will have reformed Treefolken society beyond all recognition.”- Alexander said.

“You mistake Treefolken for men. They take much longer to change. Ayliah?”

“We are never hasty, and nor do we change quickly, we take our time, and don’t generally rush things like social change.” Ayliah said with her branches clicking aggressively, and her voice filled with spite.

“There are in fact Treefolk who can sleep for four years, am I wrong?”

“Yes, they are called the sleeping ones, and when people believe that the forests are alive, sometimes they are correct. The trees are just sleeping.” The Treefolken woman said with a groan.

“Four years is not a long time. In sixty four years though, I can have my way with them. If you force me to be an enemy, then I will be one. Alex, until now, I have persevered in being your friend, I want nothing but the friendship of Allanea, and if I cannot have that, then I see no reason not to strengthen those who are still my friends.”

“You are holding my friends in chains and demanding my friendship.” - Alexander said - “I will of course accept your demand, but it is purely because you have seven hundred million hostages. I will explain to the Senate that we must sign an agreement with the C’tan, because they hold seven hundred million hostages, and then the Senate, which knows the nature of the C’tan, will sign the agreement and become your allies, but there is not going to be a single Freeman who will not think that four years is.... let’s just say it comes out of a bull.”

“To Treefolken, four years is a month. It is almost ephemeral. The quickling lives of men matter not to them. Some are even longer lived than elves.”

“He speaks the truth….” Ayliah said with a frown. “But this means I am not truly a party to these negotiations.” Ayliah motioned to her secretary to end the call. “So be it.”

“What madness is this?” - Alexander asked - “I will sign nothing without your approval.”

Ranisath watched, looking at Ayliah’s screen to see if she waited.

“What approval? This has been essentially C’tan telling us that we won’t get anything reasonable, and is threatening to sell our nation to Crystal Spires, like common chattel. No, what do you need me for? When you have friends like those, what need have you for friends like us?”

“She is right, Uncle. You are being unreasonable. You are now demanding for me you be your ally, in exchange for you doing the very thing you have planned on doing in the first place.” - Alexander said.

“You have betrayed me. Do you think we are an invincible juggernaut without feelings or honour? You proposed invading these people, and then when we did so, instead of coming with us, you screamed, yelled, declared war, even, cancelled our alliances, threatened our economy. And then you come to us, while we hold all the cards, and expect kind treatment? I could pass for a porcupine, the number of knives that have been stuck in my back. I will give you what you want, yes. And the only price, is that things be as they were. That is the measure of my friendship. And if that is too much to pay, then your treachery is without limit.”

“My treachery?” - Alexander raised an eyebrow. - “Your proposal is a mockery in every way. What. The invincible - yes, I consider it invincible - C’tani army requires four years to restore the most passable semblance of order to the major cities? “

“It required two, but you spurned our friendship again, to my face, so now we will do a better job, and take four doing it.”

“Do you intend to taunt me then?” - Alexander sighed - “You are playing ‘Keep Away’ with a country.”

“No, I am wanting your friendship. I am giving you the strongest reason possible to be my friend. I believe you still wish it too, and only need a reason. I cannot deliver them to you without something, thus I must get something. I wish I had never heard of Treefolk. I wish they had never come to be. It is tempting to unmake them, but I would not be permitted. And thus, here we are.”

“Allright. Let me try another tack. Is there anything I can do to negotiate you down from four years?”

“You can try. I genuinely do not know what you will offer, your actions have become madly erratic. Short of making me Emperor of Greater Prussia I’m not sure what the senate would accept until you say it.”

“Do you want Allanea to be your ally today or in four years?” - Alexander sighed.

“Today, of course.”

“Then you must understand my predicament. If you promise me this will happen in four years, I cannot really become your ally today. However if you offer me a reasonable term - a year, for example - i will of course immediately sign alliance documents drafted by your Senate.”

“You’d have to do more than that.”

“I genuinely have no idea what your nation could possibly want. Bear in mind we’re building off a baseplate of mutual defense and free trade.”

"Four years is nothing. These are treefolk."

“Guess how old I am, Alexander, in terms of solar years?” Ayliah asked as she looked curiously at the Aranfiyari.

“Three, four hundred?”- Alexander guessed.

“Three thousand twenty nine, and Ellesime is two thousand eight hundred ninety three years old. She and I are not anywhere close to middle age yet.” Ayliah said with a raised eyebrow. “Do you see that perhaps to you, four years may be a long time, but to the Treefolken, I have lived more than three thousand years and am still fairly young for my age.”

“Minutes ago, you’ve told me that the C’tani are messing with us.”

“They are, but the timeline is not the way they’re messing with us. they’re attempting to force you to be their ally by threatening us. The lands of southwest Mystria have never been a part of C’tan and never will be, so they’re bargaining with chips they don’t actually have, and are holding the lives and freedom of those people hostage. It makes them no better than imperialist slavers.” Ayliah explained. “They don’t OWN what they are bargaining with.”

“No, they don’t, but they possess it. I don’t have the firepower to dislodge them. I don’t know what to do.” - Alexander sighed.

“They have claimed they were not going to shoot people, so either they are lying or again, they don’t possess what they’re bargaining with again.” Ayliah said with a frown.

“If we fight C’tan, then C’tan will win and no doubt destroy Treefolk as well, as this is only rational.” - Alexander pointed out - “Of course, given these new terms I think we should shorten the term in which Treefolk will receive Allanean aid - not out of stinginess, you understand, but because I do not want long-term aid to reshape permanently the shape of society. For a period of four years, perhaps, the aid is an acceptable measure.”

“Fair enough, this is acceptable to me.” The treefolken woman said with a nod.

“The funny thing, Ayliah, is that my uncle considers himself a skilled negotiator.” - Alexander said. “He has done in the course of this discussion several things that no reasonable negotiator would have done. He has humiliated me - he has spoken about how invasions of his allies do not go unpunished, and apparently invasions of my allies must go unpunished. He has humiliated you, my ally, by talking about how you are not a party to this negotiation. Worst of all, he is offering us an awful deal, in essence offering us to do the same things he was planning to do before we called, except worse, if we but bend our knee to him.”

“I don’t know what else to do, Alex.” Ayliah said with a tired sigh, and a wilt of exasperation. “ It is strange that you call him ‘uncle’, as I would have a hard time doing such with my family.” She said cooly. “But what a strange thing it is for your family to do something like this to you.”

“I call Ranisath my uncle, first, because he is married to Aunt Sirithil, whom I call Aunt because she’s saved me and held me safe in her palace while enemies ransacked my country. I do not have a real family, besides of course Cassiopeia and Rheya, but for many years my Aunt Sirithil was all the family I’ve had.” - Alexander said. - “And now I have also my beloved Cassie and of course my lovely daughter, my chudo v peryah,” - the joke was likely lost on Ayliah. He turned towards Ranisath. “All right. Is there anything we can do to get you to remove your forces earlier? For example, we could hunt for the slavers ourselves, or I could make you Arch-Chancellor of Greater Prussia. It’s the next best thing to being Emperor.”

“There was also the time I saved your country. The two times,” Ranisath said, “just as I have saved Ayliah’s country, though rather nicer I will admit. I remind you Alex they were never your ally, never having legitimately signed a treaty, as a slaver state they had no option to participate in international law. I have not invaded a country, I have occupied an ungoverned zone ruled by bandits. And the skill of a negotiator is in the first instance, in obtaining a strong position.”

“I contest your assertion that High Treefolk were ever slavers. We’ve never had slaves in our lands, and there has never been slavery for hundreds of years. We are disgusted by the fundamental arrogance of the C’tani in proclaiming us so, when they have no knowledge of High Treefolken Policies. One may as well call persons with pets slavers and possess the same merit and seriousness of regard.”

“We have been there long enough to find far more than you, personally perhaps, ever knew. Would you like to see some of it?” Ranisath said in Sylvan. The children headed toward the block tower as the boy carefully carried his block tower to show it to Ranisath and it fell over on top of him, burying him with blocks before Emina plucked him out.

“You could not have possibly known it was even existent when you invaded. You discovered it only afterwards if there even is anything. This is a backwards hindsight justification for an illegal occupation of a legitimate state, and for no reason whatsoever. I demand that you present to me what slavery was authorized by the state and to produce it for me. If it occurred without our knowledge, it was likely illegal.” Ayliah said with fury as her branches shook.

Ranisath looked at Varsel and smiled, fluffing his head and sitting him up on the expansive desk, chatting merrily all the while, “Tell me, what is the principle from which the Gathering of Glause derived its power and position?”

[High Treefolk]

“We derived our power from our educational qualifications, and from our skill at passing the national examinations, in which we were selected to act as the Gathering of Glause, in which we would address national problems with a fully educated view of how to handle said problems.”

“Not how you were selected, how you claim authority. What gives you the right to tell others what to do? Flowery ladies distributing degrees is not a basis for a system of government. Kings rule in the name of the gods, democrats rule in the name of the people, who do you rule in the name of?”

“It is nonsense, we rule in the name of the welfare and stability of the government in favor of the people’s welfare. Again, people are not educated enough to understand their needs and how they can be met in the way that respects personal freedom.” The Treefolken woman said spitting at the screen in irritation. “You’re contriving the whole situation, it is not about what justified my rule, but what justified your occupation, which due to your devious attempts to avoid the matter proves entirely that there was nothing that justified it. Nothing. You could have begun diplomacy with us, but you chose not to in favor of armed intervention and invasion.”

“So you ruled because you knew best, that’s the sum of the justification?” Ranisath asked, lapsing back to common when Ayliah did.

“Yes.” The treefolken woman said with a frown. “And we do.”

“What are you attempting to accomplish here, Uncle?” - Alexander sighed, somewhat exasperated by this line of persuasion.

“He’s attempting to mischaracterize me, and ignore his own fault in the criminal invasion of the High Treefolk. Thus again, this line of questioning is entirely based on the idea that I have something to prove to justify that I am the ruler of my people. I am the ruler of my people along with the Gathering of Glause. Your people have not been and will never be the legitimate rulers of High Treefolk.”

“The Gathering of Glause are the legitimate rulers of the High Treefolk.’ - Alexander Blaken-Kazansky agreed. - “They are a government in exile. A powerless government, but purely because you possess several thousand monoliths parked in their land. To attempt to persuade Ayliah or myself otherwise is in vain.”

“Give me a while to tease it out, I am genuinely interested. Why is it that you can trample the rights of a common Treefolken citizen as you please, precisely, Ayliah?” the C’tan said.

“What rights have I trampled? What Rights have the Gathering Trampled? I can’t recall even one specific ruling that has been made that tramples individual rights.” The Treefolk said with even less patience. “You’ve ran out of ideas on how to get out of this hole you are in Elenaran Ranisath. I am waiting for you to pull out your justification, or I will insist that this discussion is over.”

“This is a diversion from the actual discussion.” - Alexander said.

“It’s the very root of it,” Ranisath interjected, “We’ll start with your sister. Who you had assaulted and exiled, deny it in the name of Lirea in solemn form, upon her artifacts and before the Rod of Law and I will reinstall you as leader.”

“This is not part of my responsibility of ruling, and is irrelevant. Again, bringing my family problems into this issue will not help your case. You must justify why you are justified without evidence of anything to invade without any form of diplomacy.”

“You two bicker like children” - Alexander said. - “You, Uncle Ranisath, will never persuade my friend Ayliah that your invasion was justified, indeed even I do not believe so, but certainly you will never persuade her of this, she is by simple nature unlikely to upset her. And you, Queen Mercine, will not persuade Uncle Ranisath that you deserve to rule, this argument has no place here. I may offer only, for the restoration of the lawful rule in Treefolk, not merely Allanea’s alliance with C’tan, but to restore Allanea’s alliance to the splendor and submission to C’tan which Allanea had expressed in years past, when Victoria Sheshet was my actual foreign minister, and to allow C’tan to veto future GPE member applications, and further measures as please you. This is an argument we all three can understand. To argue comparative ethics will do nothing, it will irritate only all three of us. Although I do think, Ayliah, we should discuss your family matters later, in private.”

“It is irrelevant and quite honestly not any of anyone here’s business. Not even mine.” The Queen said with a deepened tone of voice. “Now, we should return to the facts in this discussion. His accusation is that we’re not lawful enough to rule our own nation, I contest this notion because he hasn’t even declared a lawful reason for invading it.”

“Your inadequacies as overlords and leaders are the topic I wish to discuss, before we think of putting you in charge of something. Will you make the oath and submit to the rod of law that your Gathering have never arbitrarily violated your peoples’ supposed rights as pleased you to your own ends? I believe you have.”

“Which rights do you believe we have violated?” She asked with genuine confusion.

“To life, liberty from arbitrary detention and assault, and equal protection before the law.”

“Is that a ‘Do we have the death penalty and punishments from breaking contracts and law’ question? Because the answer is ‘Yes’.” Ayliah said tapping a branch on the table.

“No, I am speaking of the fact that you ran the country like its subjects, I say not citizens, were your own personal playthings, as a group, and the only people whose rights were actually protected from governmental exploitation were those with private armies able to repel or overmatch your own.”

“I am unsure why this discussion is needed at all.” - Alexander said. - “We will return to the topic at hand. “

“This is the topic at hand,” Ranisath snapped, “You want these people to rule. You must understand what they are, not what they say they are.”

“Observe that it is not.” - Alexander said, and hung up.

“Truly a happy family are we!” he laughed, fluffing Emina’s hair, “just like the real thing.”

“You don’t understand what a family is like, and with family like you treating Alex in that way, I truly wonder.” The Treefolken woman said with a frown.

“Oh, I do, but every family is imperfect, that’s the nature of life,” Ranisath said, hugging Varsel, “No matter how hard we try, it never quite works. You say that though, as if you have done some research on what I am natively.”

“You are a C’tan… aren’t you?” The woman asked with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s true indeed,” he said, “But I don’t imagine many of my people have been to your land, but your guess or lore is right, I am not naturally a familial kind of creature, but I know a lot about the lives of mortals.”

“It is a pitiable state, I imagine. Having no family, but losing family can be perhaps more difficult. You never know what you have lost at least.” Ayliah explained. “But we’re done talking about family. It is entirely unrelated to the affairs of state. Alex is expressing the same sort of weariness that I am feeling. That is to say, that you’re not actually interested in actually discussing the freedom of the Treefolken people.”

“Ahem.” - said Maverick Monningham. - “Are we still attempting to hammer something out? Should I call his Majesty back?”

“I think he probably needs some time to himself,” Ranisath said, “I am very interested in the freedom of the Treefolken people. Absolutely so, in fact,” Ranisath said. “Do you believe that, Ayliah?” he said. “I imagine not, but I would like you to tell me why not.”

“Your invasion of the country might be part of this.” - Maverick Monningham pointed out.

“Oh no, they feared us long before they joined Greater Prussia, that’s why they joined. In the hope of safety from us. Is that not so?”

“They have warned us indeed that you planned on aggression against them. Sadly we did not listen, or you would not be admitted into Greater Prussia at all.”

Ranisath did not reply, waiting on the Star of Morning.

“Maverick is correct in that-that you’ve invaded the country on no pretenses.” The Star of Morning Stammered.

“But why, what reason do you think I would have to do it?” he asked.

“It is patently clear why.” - Maverick Monningham replied. - “You believed their debt arrangements constituted slavery - indeed you even persuaded His Majesty of this for a while, though I believe you acted on your true beliefs here, and did not act in deception. But this was not the reason. The reason was that you were acting to suppress any geopolitical opponent Crystal Spires could possibly have in Mystria. Imeriata, Altea, and now the High Treefolk, it fits a merciless pattern.”

“And yet, why do I treat the Treefolken leaders worse than the Imerians, the Alteans? It is surely not because I hate their domestic policies more, or because their slavery was worse.”

“Racism, I imagine. Not the first time racism was a use to oppress a group of people. We’re not as ‘humanlike’ as Alteans or Human Supremacist like the Imerians. Your popularity contest includes a lot of humans.”

“And yet, there are less human forms than you who prosper here, you may be plant in origin, but you have two eyes, one mouth, one nose, mounted at the top of your body, and are broadly similar to a human to my eyes,” he said, “It is because of the Nefreedian genocide. You made a fool of us, of me, you understand,” he said, “that is something that cannot be tolerated. You were doomed the moment you signed off on that. You have not suffered as the Nefreedians have, as they are destined to still, but all generations must know, when you attack our allies, as you did, the penalty is inescapable.”

“We did not attack your Allies, and I tire of having to say the same thing over and over again.”

He sat up in the seat, looking at her. “Then cease denying it, I am a C’tan. A Star God. I know the truth, I know everything. You waste time in denying the matter, and you squander your own hopes when you oppose me. This is not something you can get out of by just hoping there is insufficient evidence. Think well.” Emina preened her silvery feather wings as Ranisath said so, and carefully swished her long silver hair with her hand, flipping it with a scoff.

“In speaking this way, you make it only more likely Allanea will support the lawful government of High Treefolk in this discussion.” - Maverick pointed out. - “If an invasion of your allies must not go unpunished, then our allies must also not go unprotected.”

“You face no punishment, I cannot punish you by my own laws,” Ranisath said, “you lose nothing by admitting the truth, you are already exiled and powerless-”

“She is not powerless.”- Monningham cut off. “She has friends.”

“She is dependant absolutely on another being’s favour. One who has been faithless to her in the past. She is powerless.” Ranisath said. “You stand exiled and powerless-”

“That we have been deceived before is all the more reason for us not to fail again.”

“You were not deceived, you were for a brief time, aware of the truth,” Ranisath said, “Since then, your leader has had a breakdown, and decided the sum prosperity of your nation is worth the same people he intended to kill mere weeks ago.”

“Now then.” - Maverick ignored the jab. - “Will you bargain with us, or will you badger our allies on the topic of the invasion of Crystal Spires? You cannot have it both ways. If you intend to stand by D’halbrisir, Allanea will stand by the High Treefolk.”

“Is there to be defense of the High Treefolk, Maverick, or shall we wait longer at the hopeless chance of never getting to have our own self-determination?”

“We offer genuine friendship and utter abasement.” - Maverick sighed, trying again - “In exchange for the restoration of lawful rule.”

“Which is to say, Ayliah, only through me, will what you want be obtained. Isn’t it time to step up and take responsibility for yourselves, instead of depending on the charity of the Allaneans?” Ranisath said. “They offer homage and tribute, because they-”

“Or we could become your enemies.” - Maverick said calmly. -”Our patience is not infinite.”

“-do not understand,” Ranisath said, “that what I really want is words. My enemies swiftly become corpses, Alex understands that, do not think to threaten me,” Ranisath said.

“If the choice is national humiliation and being your enemies, I believe even the most reasonable man will chose the latter. No, we are allied to the Treefolk. There is no charity here, but duty. No words of persuasion you have will alter this.” - Monningham said.

Ranisath remained silent, waiting for Ayliah to absorb the fact that Maverick had in less than a minute gone from directly offering ‘utter abasement’ to claiming he would stand for death over shame.

“The humiliation of begging for our allies to be freed,” - Maverick explained - “is nothing to the humiliation of being unable to help them at all, and then refusing to do so.” Ayliah was quite a bit honored by the statement of loyalty and was touched again by the strength of Allanean resolve, but of course it was still at the same time worriesome, as he was willing to gamble lives of Allanean people and Treefolken on the bet that the C’tani would back down or lose.

“I understand how you feel, Maverick. This is merely still one problem in which again, the C’tan cannot be reasoned with.” The Treefolken lady said with a frown.

“Reason has not been used, only offers of more and more ephemeral things.” Ranisath said. “Those offers are a mere starting point. We must decide what kind of a Treefolk will exist in the future.”

“We are fine with the Treefolk that was.” - Maverick replied. “Your Supremacy, may I be given a moment to confer with my ally over a private chat?”

“I remind you that your king has already said that a limited place for the Gathering in an overall democratic structure is acceptable to him. I will take a moment, please feel free,” he said.

Maverick pressed a button, excluding Ranisath momentarily from the convo. “Okay,” - he said to Ayliah. - “Our cards are not really good ones. On the other hand, if we negotiate on the premise that he holds all the cards, we will be dependent entirely on their mercy and they’ll trample upon our face. “

“You need cards of your own, and I would suggest a place where you can perhaps have a step forward. If they’re making it all about the Wildlands, you should use vulnerable allies to make the negotiation dually a struggle. You have any idea a place where there is a vulnerable ally that the C’tani might have? Perhaps there can be victory found in a proxy war if indirect war cannot be waged.”

“Every ally the C’tani have is either a powerful nation, or our ally as well, like the Lubyakans.” - Maverick pointed out.

“So there is no ally C’tan has that you don’t have? There is no vulnerable ally which can be used to punish the C’tan in return? Not even places like Lykosia which is filled with Communist scum? Not only are they communists, but they are in the Taiga with limited national resources.”

“This would return us to the same thing. The C’tani government would act as if it itself were attacked, and likely commence murdering the Treefolk population first, as hostages.”

“What about other ways to get beyond their defenses in the High Treefolk itself?” The woman asked with a raised eyebrow. “Dallat knows more about the High Treefolk than they do.”

“Are you suggesting that there is a way to get troops there, or a ship, without being noticed by the endless necron legions there?” - Maverick asked.

“Haven’t you found pet Wildlanders who managed to evade capture and who were in the heart of Greater Prussia without you knowing? Surely they must have had some magic to allow their evasion of your ships and satellites.”


“This was of course because Allanea has about five diviners, these people were found immediately once your diviners assisted us.” - Maverick pointed out. - “We could, of course, ask Isder for assistance, assuming our investigation of him won’t turn anything up.”

“Well enough, then we need some time to regroup and come up with something so the cards are not all in the C’tan’s hands.” Ayliah said with a shrug, “without it, we can only abide by what they’re putting forward.”

“Very well.” - Maverick said, and dialed to Ranisath again.

Ranisath sat where they’d left him, the tower mostly rebuilt.

“Right.” - Maverick said. - “We have decided to suspend negotiations. We are not accomplishing anything.”

“Excellent!” Ranisath said, happily.

“This of course means all relations between Allanea and C’tan will be suspended perpetually, you know the drill. Any last suggestions, offers, whatever?”

“You will be withdrawing from Amistad then? Surprising,” Ranisath said.

“Amistad is not an alliance.”

“You understand the clock is still ticking from now? In six hours time I contact the Spirean High Council about their future expansion.” Ranisath said.

“I advise you do not.” - Maverick said. - “We have troops near the Spirean population centers.”

“You are threatening them now? Clearly the lesson is not taught yet. It is no matter. This is the fact. You have six hours, one if you want to save the Treefolken from the evils of single provider mandatory state education.”

“Should we start shooting each other now?” - Maverick asked.

“You should persuade Ayliah to say ‘sorry’ and mean it, and you will have all you wish.” Ranisath said.

“I have nothing to be sorry for, you’ve invaded our nation without our consent, enforced policy over people who are not your citizenry and you’ve rejected all attempts at diplomacy.”

“Make an attempt then, Ayliah. You know what I want,” Ranisath said.

“Get out of High Treefolk.” She said with a sneer. “Get out of my country, and get away from my people!”

“Your Majesty?” - Maverick said. - “Remember we have mentioned that you have had a day of memories mindwiped from you?”

“Now is not the time, Maverick, Alexander is not here and I do not need to be confronted with yet another existential crisis. Not now, as I am not in the right state, and I must be focused, I must be firm.” Ayliah said slamming her branch down on the table. “This is not going to be over here, C’tan.”

The Allanean sighed. “What is it that you imagine Her Majesty did?.”

“The Star of Morning, as is her title, that I know at least, cooperated with her cousin Eames Gromkin in his arch treason against Crystal Spires, receiving direct and personal benefits from the same crimes that your Queen crusaded against.”

“And she was aware in advance that the Nefreedians planned a genocide?” - Maverick raised a single eyebrow.

“Gromkin coordinated and propagated the genocide, setting internal groups to assist the Nefreedians, this is how mass casualties were obtained in areas where no Nefreedian ever reached, how there were vast casualties in Ohm, when no Nefreedian ever even got within cruise missile range of Ohm. The Nefreedians killed less Spireans than she did. They were in the South. Even with Gromkin sending the navy away and refusing to call for aid from the Spireans Allies, they were routed and destroyed in the south by Spireans and those of their allies with the wisdom to go when we did not, Allaneans among them. You have heard of Oyelia Pontroff, I take it? Of Cassiopia Blaken? Gromkin opened the borders and Ayliah and the Gathering sent in the kill teams. It is why we sent the Sautekh to Treefolk. The mercenaries there are as foul as any Doomingslandi or Kravenite. The Nefreedians are their fall-guys, almost.”

“There is a problem with your tale.” - Maverick said. - “We have wargamed several scenarios of Allanean invasion into D’halbrisir, including potential routes of invasion through High Treefolk, do you know what our General Staff discovered?”

“That it would take the acting Chancellor of Crystal Spires and his large numbers of accomplices and imprinted staff working with you to disable their military to secure routes of access? And say, Treefolk soldiers? Treefolk being invisible to the ‘gribblies.’”

“Short of orbital landings, it is impossible to invade Crystal Spires without mass civilian casualties. The Paling systems, the population patterns, and so forth, assure this. The thing we hold-”

“The Treefolk are invisible to the ‘gribblies.’ And the paling does not extend to the ground.”

“Mass casualties among the Spireans, I mean. The thing we hold against the Nefreedians is not their use of tactical nuclear weapons, nor the casualties they inflicted, but the deliberate genocide in occupied territory. Had Allanea invaded Crystal Spires, dozens of millions of Spireans would perish. In other words, Your Majesty, we are still on your side.”

“The kill-teams,” Ranisath continued, “were killing civilians. You don’t think beleafed einsatzgruppen picked fair fights do you? Most of the civilians were killed at her order.”

“There is nothing to discuss.” The Treefolken lady shook her head. “We’re done talking here.”

Ranisath pushed a button, to play her previous confession to this involvement to both channels.

“Mindrape, and mind control. You could get me to confess to loving Lenin when I would rather see Communists burn.”

“Maverick, are you okay with this?”

“All right.” - Maverick said. - “I would like to be given a reprieve on the hour time-delay so I can discuss this information with my King. Also, can you actually give us the full recording?”

“If necessary, it is not especially useful. Which is why... I proposed an Allanean fact finding mission to Treefolk before you brought Ayliah in. Allaneans. With their own equipment. And guns, for that matter, able to go and interview people involved who have yet to be arrested, and able to look at the evidence themselves.”

“This is all lies and materials filled with dishonest matters acquired by dishonest means. There is no truth to what has been stated within those recordings, and it is precisely why my memories have been altered and why it was a prerequisite of getting me back unharmed.”

“No not really,” Ranisath said, “But that is why I don’t expect anyone but you to believe it. Which is why I wanted them to discover it themselves.”

“Very well. Send us the recordings and we will be back with you in less than an hour.” - Maverick said. - “Your Majesty, you needn’t worry - we can have the recordings in transcript form, you will not be made to review anything traumatizing.”

“I should remind you that having already been threatened - not that she was actually tortured - with torture, Ayliah should not be arrested for the same crimes,” Ranisath said, “There is more and better evidence, she and her compatriots were but a starting point.”

“We are certainly not arresting her.” - Maverick said tersely.

Ranisath ended the call.

Maverick looked at Ayliah. “Will you be available to chat with myself and His Majesty in, say, a dozen minutes?”

“I would be.” The woman said with her mind still jilted.

It took a while for the Allaneans to look over the the documentation, and eventually Alexander called Ayliah back. He looked tired, saddened, and somewhat disappointed.

“Good day,” - he started, somewhat out of tone.

“What is it, Alexander?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I have looked over the interrogation documents. I have some nasty news, and I have some good news. Where should I start?”

“I should start, you know they have fabricated evidence and used mind control. Why are you taking anything they say seriously? There’s nothing to show that evidence taken by the C’tani are at all in any way reliable. They use mind control, and have wiped my memory, what makes you think they haven’t done that to others? Did you ask them?”

“Your Majesty.”- Alexander said, very calmly. affecting the calmest tone he possibly could. “The nasty piece of news I have to tell you is that I have looked over the evidence, and I know my uncle well enough, to say, yes, I believe the overall account. I think you have, with your friends, orchestrated the invasion of the Crystal Spires, and then joined Greater Prussia to avoid being destroyed. The good news, however is that I have decided not to cast you out, or do anything to you due to this. In fact I want us to discuss how we’re going to live our lives from here.”

“This is still a problem, again, because the C’tani cannot be trusted. They’ve proven this over and over again. Why do you still take their word over the word of me? Haven’t I been honest with you this whole time, and haven’t they been attempting to humiliate you and treat you like a lesser being, and threatening people’s lives and freedoms for the abasement of Allanea? Why do you take the word of known immoral savages?”

“Ayliah.” - Alexander sighed - “I know also my Uncle enough he will not actually tell me the sky is green when it is blue, and I believe at least, that he told me in this the truth as he believes it. You know also that you can trust me. Please tell me the truth. I have, I think, earned this.” - he did not mention that, at forty trillion dollars per Gathering member, he felt he was entitled to the truth.

“What are you asking me? I don’t know what manner of truth you want from me? What are you expecting of me? I have no idea what you want to hear? Is it about the issues with Elle? Because I have told you this is nothing we will ever have to or need to address.”

“I would prefer it, by the way, if you at least talked to Elle one day about it.” - Alexander said - “I find it hard to face Maven Auryn... but no. I think you engineered the invasion, and then joined Greater Prussia to avoid yourself being the victim of new aggression. Will it make it easier for you to admit it if I tell you this is the same reason Allanea had once joined Greater Prussia?”

“What happened with Allanea that it needed to be protected by Greater Prussia?” The treefolken woman asked as she carefully tried to keep her voice dispassionate to show no indication that she was going to say a word.

“We had a foreign policy of irresponsibility and aggression. A tiny country feeling out its way in the world, Allanea felt it was big enough to throw weight around - and we pissed off enough of the wrong people, the C’tan among them, that we were forced to take refuge behind the Emperor’s mantles.”

“In our case, we did not even desire to accrue the C’tan’s wrath, but we had need to be able to get our country back on its feet and the only thing standing between us and massive prosperity were the fucking communist beastmen. The same fucking beastmen that cause all the grief throughout the region because their perversity causes all of the portals to Pandemonium to open around them. The very same beastmen that nearly orchestrated the mass murder of the Neutraligonites and which have about as much empathy for our plight as a washboard.” The Treefolken woman said. “The fucking beastmen were not the only ones that did that, but they even massacred their own rulers out of their terrible ambitions to spread their communism throughout the land.”
`
“I am never one to be a fan of Communism, but frankly people like Denys Ganduril deserved to be stabbed a few dozen times.” - Alexander noted - “But I don’t blame you for hating the Spireans, my people have hated our own Ancestral Enemy, the Edolians, for generations upon generations.”

“This is not the point however. I have no love for the Spireans, and I have had serious reservations about this deal with the C’tan, because it is asking for too much each time. There is no reason for them to have retaliated in this way. If they had a problem, they should have engaged in diplomacy. It wasn’t even us officially as a state that ordered ‘the situation that happened’, we hired private mercenaries, as it is not something High Treefolk as a state had a vested interest in, and yet they turned on the High Treefolk and the Gathering. It’s a bit ludicrous.”

“I assure you that had you hired private mercenaries to attack Allanea, I would burn your capital city to the ground.” - Alexander replied simply - “This is no excuse. When those kill teams were launched from your borders, and your state did not stop them, it became responsible by shielding them. Which brings me towards the solution I have in mind.”

“That is absurd. Do you also target all the country of those who have hit men or murderers who by happenstance happen to be from a particular country? That is insane, and foolhardy.”

“If the leaderships of the country have hired these hitmen? Or if I know that the government refuses on purpose to prosecute those hitmen, and shields them? Yes, absolutely, they are then either in fact national troops by another name, or terrorists. This is standard practice.”

“No one caught those mercenaries because they did not stand still like most normal citizens do. There is no leadership who hired those people. There was private citizens. You are aware of the distinguishment between private citizens and things officially ordered by the government.”

“Yes, and if terrorist groups struck from within Allanea, it would be my responsibility to deal with them, or I would be held responsible. The only reason I am not tried for war crimes for some of the things the Ashtonbury Brigade does, is because I have two hundred million bayonets. You do not have two hundred million bayonets, Ayliah, you should be more careful.”

“I thought I had friends with two hundred million bayonets… I guess this is only partially true.” The Treefolken woman sighed and she shook her head. “And there is nothing to be said for war crimes because the Gathering of Glause denied all connection with the Spirean genocides, and we extended our sympathies to the families of those who had lost members, etc. I am not a monster. I am aware of the consequences, but this doesn’t mean I’ve no emotions or feelings about it.”

“Oh for fucksake! For the sake of irradiated gobsmacking yebany vurdalachi potroh communist cocksucking fucks, woman!” - Alexander sighed. “You are not on fucking trial in a fucking glass fucking box here. You’re on a secure line with a friend. Why are you unable to honestly talk about what happened?”

“I AM, Don’t you get it? I’m being honest, and this is what happened. I didn’t do anything wrong. I did what was right for High Treefolk, and our predictions about what would have happened went wrong, because Maven Auryn wasn’t supposed to come back alive from New Freedomstan. He was supposed to die there, a proper Martyr, and then we could blame it on the New Freedomstani, but the fucking bird won’t just die.” The Treefolken woman let out a cry of exasperation. “He’s ruined EVERYTHING.” She said sobbing.

“This is your problem with what happened?” - Alexander blinked - “Not the deaths of innocents, but that Maven Auryn lives?”

“If he had died, there wouldn’t need to have been over hundreds of thousands of others dead. This was a nightmare because everything possible that could have gone wrong went wrong. Are you aware of the odds of this bullshit? We did not expect that this would happen to an 11% margin of any probability, and he HAD to be that 11%. Just had to. HE RUINED MY LIFE.”

“You sound like my daughter’s boyfriend. My daughter’s fifteen-year-old boy friend.” - Alexander pointed out.

Ayliah was sobbing and reverted to a sleeping tree state due to the stress, which of course, made her resemble a maple tree, without much of any distinguishment between her and a tree.

“There is of course a solution, Ayliah, an obvious one to anyone who knows how my Uncle’s mind frame works, or mine.” - Alexander said.

There was no movement nor sound from the treefolken woman which at the moment resembled a normal maple tree.

“There is a solution, and it is very simple. My Uncle would accept it from you, or from me, or even from far worst monsters than any of us.” - Alexander spoke. - “You must make a true and heartfelt apology.”

“But I am not sorry.” she said in Sylvan. ”I have done nothing wrong.”

“Not even about the deaths of thousands of innocents? You don’t even feel a desire to try and fake it for the freedom of your countrymen?” - Alexander blinked.

The treefolk moved for a moment and there was a few cracking sounds. “The innocents would have never died if everything had happened according to plan, and it didn’t. IT DIDN’T. IT WENT ALL WRONG. ALL… ALL WRONG.”

“Listen to me, Ayliah. You have a unique opportunity to save your countrymen. All you need to do is take responsibility for your actions.” - Alexander said.

“But…. I didn’t… It wouldn’t… I can’t… I…. it’s too late.” Ayliah said with a horrified shudder. “They’re already dead. They’re…. there’s no use doing anything about what is done and passed.”

“You’ve read Human Action, right?” - Alexander asked, calmly.

“Of course I have, it’s one of the greatest economic treatises in the world.” The treefolken woman said with a shudderof sobs.

“Now, what is the main premise of Human Action, Ayliah?”

“Man strives to attempt to measure causal connections in economic theory?” The treefolken woman said with a raised eyebrow.

“There is a broader premise. The notion is that the actions of humans - and, of course, beastlings, elves, Treefolken - are inherently individualized and unpredictable. This is why regulators fail so often, and why even the wisest statesmen - and you are a superbly wise stateswoman - have a limit to their vision. The same limit that prevents communism from succeeding - the knowledge problem, if you will - is what makes those ‘eleven percent chance’ calculations so inherently unreliable. Human beings - and beastlings, and treefolken - are not statistics, they cannot be toyed with in this way, Ayliah.”

“It wasn’t merely statistics, but predictions based on what many scholars had agreed upon, there was a strong consensus on what would happen, and this continues to become all the worst possible things happening.” Ayliah mumbled as she tried to catch her breath. “There is nothing I can do that will work. I’ve lost a bit of faith that anything will work. I tried, and… they’re going to not accept anything.”

“Listen to me. You took a chance. A moral and tactical gamble, with the lives of Spireans and Treefolken. But just like in a lottery or a stock market, sometimes the best experts are wrong. And it is up to you to fix it. You have seen I was ready to subordinate Allanea to C’tan to try and get your people out of this. I was ready to beg the C’tani senate for mercy. Now if I was willing to do this for you, I ask you to do the same for yourself.”

“I… will try, but I am not sure I can.” Ayliah said with a shudder, as some of the leaves were discarded where she stood.

[The Ctan]

Great Civilization Unincorporated Territory of Western Mystria

Societal Report and Briefing [Common Version]

Disclosure Class ISA5 - redacted to ISA3

[Not for Release to persons without ISA3 clearance without authorisation from the Sub-Department of Information ]

Prepared: Inspector-General Harwo Missara ita Sautekh, on behalf of His Immortal Majesty the Phareon Imotekh of the Dynastic House Sautekh, Nemesor, Military Governor of Western Mystria, for Patrast Lygngarma nos Dunnealc, International Department

Special Thanks: Amaya ita Agdagath, Special Consultant for Mystrian Affairs, Senate Advisory Offices

Abstract
This report is intended to summarise and show evidence for the cultural makeup and future problems observed in the occupation of the Great Civilization Incorporated Territory of Western Mystria, formerly a territory occupied by slavers. This report is intended to guide future policymakers in formulating policies in dealing with this area in order to guide it to maximum prosperity and individual freedom. It demonstrates beyond reasonable doubt that the High Treefolk ‘nation’ categorically can be considered a slave-state, and thus fails to be considered a state by international law, and explains as a guideline for workers in the area, the cultural pressures that have affected previous misrule in the region, as well as how to counteract these pressures.

1. Executive Summary

1a. Historical Narrative
The Great Civilization Unincorporated Territory of Western Mystria was created by annexation at the order of the Triarch Council, in order to pacify the slaver-forces present in that region. During our occupation we have been able to identify several aspects of conduct contrary to fundamental codes of honour in the leading residents of that area, as well as major sapient rights abuses.

Major social problems are believed to date from the last two centuries in the region, consisting of a liberalized economic and social policy linked with inherently conservative and highly socially restrictive traditions.

1b. Slavery
Before and during the occupation, ample evidence (sections 2 and 3 of this report) has been obtained to demonstrate beyond reasonable doubt that slavery is the most widespread mode of life for the population of the former High Treefolk. The standard mode definition of slavery in use by the Great Civilization covers a state where:

“A person is subjected to loss of free agency, for the purpose of appropriation of labour power by the use of violence of the threat of violence.”

~ ENEC Standard Legal Definitions 8th edition, p.29

The key areas within the Extralegal Territorial Ruling Group of High Treefolk (also known as the Most Serene Republic of) where this definition has applied are as follows:

Summoners are a magical tradition and ethnic/species group in Mystria. They have a seemingly unique ability to meld with a form of spirit or intangible being called an Eidolon, in their parlance. Traditionally persecuted in Crystal Spires and Altea also, they are often feared as many people believe they attract demons and other ‘gribblies’ with their magics. There is no statistical evidence to support this claim. While they have been traditionally less hated in High Treefolk, and it has been a past haven for them, as Treefolk do not fear these creatures as their neighbors do, with some exceptions (fire ogres, etc) and therefore have no great hysteria regarding it. In the present, however, the Othlon Corporation has determined how to convert Eidolons into a form of magical energy storage called Materia. In order to obtain Eidolons to convert, the corporation’s forces have been kidnapping Summoners, torturing them to summon Eidolons, and then converting those Eidolons to Materia. While the government has not directly supported this, all efforts to obtain legal protection or redress have been quashed at both high and low levels. Government has cooperated in this wherever Government has encountered it. Specific punishments for non-compliant summoners have involved every manner of assault, as well as mutilation (commonly removal of the tongue) and of course, murder.

It is obvious that appropriation of labour power at the sole direction of the slaver and the use of violence is involved in this case.

The inherited debt structure of High Treefolk has been characterized as Debt Slavery, which is to say that in the Treefolk governance system, it is not possible to discharge debt except by repayment or waiver by the creditor. While this is superficially not too divergent a stance, this has several key effects. First and most abhorrently, the ability of young saplings to obtain credit means that very young children can obtain a debt that will never be repaid and last a lifetime. This debt is also transferred along familial lines, even including to parents. It is easy to imagine that treefolk inherit their parents debts, but children and even more distant family members are often not considered. Perhaps the most strange practice is the ability of the more independently minded citizens to inflict on their ex-partners massive debts (often the cost of emigrating to someplace better) by inducing their children to take them out, then skip the country, forcing debt to default to the available biological parent. Naturally of course, absconding on debts is a crime, and if caught doing so, the average treefolk can expect many centuries of forced labour, usually to repay the debt at an unattainable price. In actuality, it is not possible for a prison-labourer to repay the debt he incurred himself, resulting in permanency of such sentences.

In this manner, children can be easily separated from their families and consigned to lifetime periods of prison labour by professional con-artists. Naturally, the ability of persons who are not able to legally contract to loans in civilized jurisdictions, or the ability to transfer debt to people who did not contract to it and then to enforce forced labourer on defaulters is a form of abstraction of labour and loss of freedom with the use of force. In this, the state and the Gathering of Glause have been entirely supportive of these practices. Debriefing has made us aware that the upper levels of the Treefolk government are fully aware of this moral evil, however regard the loss of liberties for what is estimated to be eight million or more of their own citizens in slavery conditions to be entirely worthwhile for the lifestyles they and prominent treefolken businesstrees have enjoyed. Justifications typically involve the importance of remaining ‘competitive’ on the world stage.

Apologists argue that it is possible to ‘refuse to inherit’ debt by setting one’s self aside from the family group/clan, however, this also removes the legal protections of the tribe from the individual involved, in so doing, leaving them without recourse to law; naturally this allows them, as outlaws to be seized and abused into working, i.e. enslaved, or murdered.

Working Conditions for those gainfully employed by Treefolken Business also constitute slavery. Even for those without debts to repay, a vanishingly small proportion of the population, between employment blacklist cartel services, anti-union laws that limit free association, and isolated communities entirely dominated by corporations, the ability of most employees to choose their employer is severely compromised, those who are born in a ‘company town’ are typically unable to receive payment in transferable currency, and thus unable to leave, likewise, without running the risk of starvation. The ability of employers to hire and fire at will and pay in scrip allows employers the ability to keep a workforce without the independent resources to survive - although Treefolken can naturally survive in the wild better than humans can, in highly polluted areas, as much of the country is, the soil has a limited carrying capacity that makes living off the land impossible even in a long dreaming state - and thus force them to accept employment that does not pay in real resources, under threat of forcible eviction and certain death. While it is not inherently a kinetic process itself, a system that contrives to force starvation as the only option for non-compliance is inherently violent. Likewise, once forced out of a company town, former workers are considered bandits by default, and hunted and are killed without trial. In this way, this is a system of slavery.

Imprinted Beastlings are disturbingly prevalent in High Treefolk. Any minority ethnic group in the country suffers discrimination as outside the full protection of the native tribal system, however, Spirean immigrants are particularly subject to discrimination, many having been found ‘imprinted’ a well known technique that functions by █████████████████████████████████████████████ using prolonged torture and and has been observed in Altea and Crystal Spires. Several different accounts have been provided, some of which implicate judicial officials and law enforcement in this. Naturally, this is slavery, given that it used violence to actually remove free will for the purpose of labour.

Government reactions by the ruling group to these abuses have been at best indifferent and in many cases have legally upheld these. Specifically upheld have been the debt inheritance and working conditions, while other abuses have been merely exacerbated by the limited interest or ability of the government.

1c. Underlying Issue: Social Destructure and Fatalism supporting continued slavery

Traditional power groups in the pre-occupation defunct state (“High Treefolk”, determined to have failed to meet minimum existence criteria approximately one long year ago) have generally held a high degree of social capital. Structured along the inheritance based ‘nobility’ system common throughout the Great Wheel and beyond, traditional power groups have led through coercion and patronage, generally with what is considered, relative to all neighbours, to be indulgent of the needs of the lower classes. This is believed to be a consequence of the high patience promoted by the locally dominant religion. This has meant that the relative taxation and expectations of same, as well as other demands are believed to be relatively minimal.

In this respect a form of basic liberalism has become prominent in the state, and an accepted wisdom. Where in other cultures (Ourselves, Menelmacar, D’halbrisir, Allanea, for instance) an expectation of struggle in obtaining liberties from traditional power groups has bred a citizen-attitude capable of organizing and maintaining the security of these same, the natural emergence of this attitude from the lassitude of traditional religion has tended to result in a casual acceptance of liberal ideas. It is unlikely that any treefolk has ever said 'liberty or death.'

If anything the religiously influenced behaviours of the Treefolken citizenry are extremely disappointing and fatalistic, Treefolk do not argue for raises, or complain about service, they are largely content - or rather, they expect and see no point objecting - with humble wages. The historical record is not well preserved, a poor attitude information disclosure is endemic in the culture, and even with forcible requisition of university documents the most reliable guide to the region’s history - itself unexplored in many nations - has proven to be folk songs and poetry. Within this record, there are substantially reduced incidences of peasant uprising and civil strife compared to neighboring states, and the Lirean-religion is presumably an influence on this behaviour also. There are no popular stories of rebellion or outlawry in High Treefolk, save only those intended to warn against rebellion. In the Treefolken cultural landscape, rebellion is a form of insanity, to be expected to reap the rewards of such insanity, which are usually most unpleasant.

While it is possible to attribute this to inherent psychological differences between treefolk and other species and to a degree that is likely true, the cultural attitude appears to have homogenized other species within the nation.

A distinction should be made between acceptance, which the Lirean cult praises as a virtue and contentment or happiness. Few treefolk that we have encountered or surveyed have actually been willing to express contentment or happiness with their situation, rather it is that they do not see a possibility of improvement of their extant situation.

The implications of this are profound, although the Treefolken society may be appealing in some respects, it is tolerant of widespread abuses that in a human society with a similar memeplex would be considered an outrage would incite large scale public protest or revolt. Although we have attempted to establish contact with pro-democracy groups, these seem to be extremely rare. Many of those who have previously been known to be democracy advocates have been murdered before our arrival. These organizations are typically composed almost exclusively of non-treefolk.

Although several arrests have been made, it is not possible to ascertain the full extent of autocratic violence employed against democracy advocates in the territory at this time, certainly a lower limit of hundreds of thousands of murders can be attributed to this within recent years.

The inability of the typical Treefolken citizen to conceive of independent action to improve their situation, including by legitimate means of business, makes it possible for entire populations to very rapidly fall into macroexploitation without any substantial resistance.

This lack of activism is also the cause of the environmental decay of High Treefolk. Without any pressure from external stakeholders, Treefolken businesses typically suffer no negative consequences whatsoever from pollution, poor customer relations or shoddy products. Many treefolken are passively accepting of poor quality service and products in a way that disinclines manufacturers/providers from additional expense to produce better products. In this way, despite high industrialization most products of any quality made in High Treefolk are exported, likewise highest service standards are reserved for services outsourced to High Treefolk, while native services are almost universally poor.

Without market or legislative controls, the internal economy of High Treefolk has been characterised for over a century by a ‘race to the bottom’ in all aspects of practice that relate to the lives and lifestyles of the workforce.

Without either democratic means of redress, nor the wherewithal to demand better, even by the natural - to other races - process of seeking out the best value for expenditure, - a treefolk assumes that when he goes shopping he will be shafted, and does nothing to avoid it - the existence of a typical treefolken citizen is one doomed to be almost entirely disengaged with public life, without personal respect or social capital.

[Editorial Note: All occupation personnel present in Western Mystria should be wary for the action of the Lord of Decay, the corruption of the society is notably similar to this. Observe also Treefolken tendencies WRT infectious disease, below. Compared with Lireanism in neighboring nations it is notably divergent. Vacta Activity Group Mystria should be alerted of any suspected corruption. ~ Sergar Regis, Vacta Council]

Without a fully developed concept of independent agency, many treefolk are incapable of meaningful self-respect or assertiveness, this does not appear to be their natural state, but rather an indoctrinated worldview given the comparatively self-possessed behaviour of Spirean and Altean treefolk. (See also, Altean Tree Bandits).

It is to be speculated that the prevalence of fundamental (elementary, in foreign parlance) education provided on a part time basis by the Lirean cult is partly responsible for indoctrinating this attitude, which is observable in saplingfolk of relatively young ages, though of course, home acculturation and education cannot be discounted.

1d. The Spirean Genocide

The specific cause for engagement in High Treefolk was also to address the involvement of the non-state entity in the invasion of the now RPC ally Crystal Spires. While the story of the invasion is well known, with New Freedomstani soldiers landing in the south and slaughtering their way in a tide of violence to the north, using nuclear weapons liberally and organizing mass killings, another story has not widely been told.

Suspicion was first aroused by the fact that Spirean casualties among the civilian population were very much higher than could be reasonably accounted for by the number of New Freedomstani soldiers actually deployed; approximately five million, would require the individual nefreedian soldier to kill approximately one hundred Spireans each, many of them located hundreds of miles away from the nearest actual New Freedomstani.

Evidence grew as information was released regarding the duplicity of Arch Traitor Eames Gromkin, in supporting the invasion. Likewise, investigations at the time revealed large scale mob violence between Spirean communities had broken out during the invasion, as well as failures of large parts of the infrastructure.

Eames Gromkin, first cousin to Ayliah Mercine, Star of Morning, Leader of the slaver-state, was able to politically target areas that had the highest numbers of communist voters, as well as those containing industries threatening to High Treefolk.

Records indicate a large number of strikes originally attributed to New Freedomstani special forces, including damage to roads and infrastructure, were not attributed to any given New Freedomstani unit by captured Freedomstani records, furthermore, incidences of severe criminal behaviour by Treefolk in Crystal Spires were elevated considerably at the time.

Upon discrete inquiries and access to available resources, ██████████████ was able to obtain documentary evidence matching many of these actions to unsolved violence at the time, and it was determined that Treefolken mercenary forces had been heavily involved in the following capacities:

1. Destruction of vital resources; sabotage of military shipments, roads, communications structures, poisoning water supplies, assassination, and spread of crude biological weapons.
2. Provocation of megafauna to attack Spirean citizens, such as by destruction of their lairs.
3. Direct elimination of Spirean citizens, specifically refugees. It is also speculated that many of these persons may have been taken into slavery in High Treefolk, Ealdurium, Altea and elsewhere. Some slaves rescued from the Siren’s Call and similar organizations have related stories of such capture.
4. Total depopulation of small settlements without substantive guard resources (typically those left without professional defenders by needs of the war in the south).
5. Large scale rape campaigns in some areas, resulting in a notable uptick of flowerfolk/beastling hybrid babies in the orphanage systems of Crystal Spires.

Despite their widespread contribution, accounting for multiple hundreds of millions of dead, encounters with Spirean military forces typically ended so decisively in favour of the professional soldiers that these groups were largely assumed by the Spireans to be criminal groups with no overarching agenda.

Crime by treefolk in Crystal Spires has perhaps for some time been part of an agenda to cause maximum economic disruption. Statistically elevated levels of murders of capitalists (particularly those more interested in cooperation with labour forces in Crystal Spires) and destruction of industrial materials performed by treefolk or former residents of High Treefolk have been observed. Prolonged interrogation of Treefolken criminals in Crystal Spires has yielded some results in this area, but it has not been a priority at this time. Naturally few treefolk already in the Spirean prison system wish to incriminate themselves further, and it is difficult to obtain amnesty for discussion of the topic from Spirean authorities.

1e. Key Security Concerns

Foremost among the security issues presented by the High Treefolk situation are those that threaten the C’tani ally of Crystal Spires. The porous nature of the border, particularly in line with the ability of the unbound members of the population to move to occupy other plants of the same kind without evident regard to distance, which is broadly similar in nature to the Spell to Step With Nature’s Grace first relayed in the Liber Mystrium (p. 29 | LOAR: 100/129:AF3904D). There are several promising avenues to defend against this. The first and most straightforward is to kill the plants in the area, while this may seem drastic, it is also effective, it is immensely difficult for treefolk to enter the city of ███████, for instance, as it is surrounded on all sides by the forbidding ███████████ Desert. Other proven techniques include creation of dead magic zones and the defences used by the High Magic of Giltheran, but such magics are extensive, and disruption of the magical ecology of Mystria is highly contraindicated on sustainability grounds. Both of these approaches have questionable merit, as isolating the borders of High Treefolk in this manner would either require creating an ‘anorganic zone’ along the borders of High Treefolk not only with their western neighbors but all neighbors, and possibly pursuing this action to the sea-bed. While the cost of this would be high, it would likely prove highly effective by denying the Treefolk a continuous medium of travel. Treefolk are not able to transit to another host plant while they are isolated from the ground, either in buildings, or aircraft, or even pavement (known as The Antaeus Effect), therefore one, albeit radical, option would be to concrete over the entire nation. While this may seem to be a low cost solution, it is naturally unlikely to be beneficial to the Great Civilization’s reputation, and would be easily subverted. The most subtle solution so far proposed is based on the ancient Menelmacari custom of planting holly trees, bushes and creepers on the borders of their lands.

Project Hollin seeks to create a breed of plant with characteristics that will be able to ‘snare’ treefolk passing by its location. Due to a low-invasiveness nature and the potential adaptability of the concept, it is estimated that it will be possible to secure Spirean, Altean, and Terradinite borders. █████████ ████████ ███████████ ██████████ ██████████ ██████████ ██ ██████████ ████████████████ ██ ██ ████ ██████ ███████████ ██████████████ █ ███ █ ███ ██████ ████████ ████████ ███████. Being forcibly routed to such plants would effectively create a local ‘black hole’ and impede free movement via plants for Treefolk in an area potentially several hundred meters deep, though naturally, multiple layers of plants would serve efficiently. More important to border security is creating a stable treefolk and eliminating hostile power-groups within it, these specifically involved in the genocide of Crystal Spires should be either arrested or ███████████████.

1f. Key Rights Concerns

Within High Treefolk, the entire social order is structured to. while ostensibly providing a form of freedom, oppress the population. The key strategy of oppressor forces in High Treefolk in co opting government processes has been unlike that of more typical states. There is little entryism into government by major oppressors. Without an effective governmental security force of any kind, the appeal of entering government in High Treefolk has been substantially reduced.

The net effect of this is that the key objective to protect the rights of the population of High Treefolk must be to reform the economy. Without curtailing the economic activities of the plutocrats of High Treefolk, and widespread arrests, there can be no possibility of the population actually being allowed to act with freedom.

An example of this can be seen in the gun laws of High Treefolk. In principle these are some of the most liberal on the Myst Continent. In practice, it is not possible for a gun shop to operate in a company town, or for a poor Treefolken citizen to conclude a purchase in those that do exist in the cities, keeping firearms restricted to the organized punishment gangs controlled by corporations and the extremely rich.

It is not possible to be more liberal with the law, and yet without actual law enforcement and therefore decimation of the corporate rulership of High Treefolk, likewise, without curtailing economic exploitative activities, the local social and economic pressures will select for the same behaviors and result in a new generation of exploitation.

This report will conclusively demonstrate the broad number of reforms required to protect fundamental liberties de facto in High Treefolk, and outline the educational and infrastructure requirements of making the nation prosperous while doing so.

OOC: Produced with and validated by the High Treefolk player. This represents only part of a large and extensively documented report which any rational analysis of would conclude to be accurate, and all information within is true and as unbiased as I/we can make it.

[Allanea]

Official Message from the Free Kingdom of Allanea

Our offer, to conclude the negotiations, is as follows:

1. The conditions imposed during the previous round of negotiations (the lack of social reforms, the bicameral legislature, etc.) remain.

2. The occupation period is shortened to four months.

3. In return, a representative of the Great Civilisation will be appointed to Arch-Chancellor of Greater Prussia, to be chosen jointly by both countries, with the usual rights and dueties of Arch-Chancellor.

[The Ctan]

Given at the Triarch Palace, in the Second Era’s 360th Terran Year upon the 211th day, by the hand of Devangi Pancholi ita Dyvanakh Proaldaconciga of the Great Civilization of the C’tan, to Alexander Kazansky, King of Allanea and Emperor of Greater Prussia, Greetings; May all enmity become amity between us.

I have the luxury of being much less concerned about the Treefolk than my predecessor, as I have no personal involvement in the Spirean Crisis. With that in mind, I have inherited a highly undesirable situation with regard both to your own empire-kingdom and the treefolken realm itself.

It must be accepted and agreed in public by all parties that the Gathering of Glause have been guilty of masterminding, ordering and funding the murder of innumerate Spirean Citizens, while under the aegis of Greater Prussia, and that my predecessor’s actions in removing the stain upon the honour of Greater Prussia by taking action against them was, if over-zealous, then certainly just.

This matter is to my mind, conclusively proven by the report of Inspector-General Harwo Missara ita Sautekh, and the follow up and confirmation reports and inquiries made to that effect.

While the pardon issued by my predecessors on the Triarch Council to the Gathering of Glause when they were in Interstellar Security Agency custody definitively terminates any interest the Great Civilization had in their being brought to justice or account for their crimes, the factual guilt they bear for their actions is not to be denied or obfuscated, but rather all facts must be entered into the public record.

For this reason I cannot endorse any plan which returns the individuals who made up the previous Gathering of Glause to their prior positions nor to any other official body. While their pardon remains absolute, and they may travel as they wish, it is improper to place, thus far unrepentant, genocide-architects and slavers in any position of power.

I do not object to the concept of a Gathering, nor do I object one staffed by Libertarian Academics, and would invite you to assemble another one with new members who are not the architects of the most infamous genocide in recent history; I am quite happy to sponsor a bicameral legislature featuring a Gathering, and would happily leave the selection of its initial members to you, within the proviso that the current individuals should not be admissible as members.

In point of fact I must insist that the former members of the Gathering of Glause are given no state (including military) titles or business directorships of any kind by the new government, and Greater Prussia, Allanea, and their associated states, this to extend for their entire lifetimes, including any state of undeath or afterlife entered into. We must not reward the architects of genocide.

I am likewise content to assemble a Treefolken Transitional Government within the next months to meet a basic home rule timescale for legal issues within four months, subject to certain limits: that the issues of debt and employment are restored to a more normative baseline in law and constitutionally preserved, in order to prevent such things as inherited intergenerational debt, loans to minors, debtors prison and similar barbarities.

The transitional government’s primary task will be to prepare an actual government which will include as a senior house the new Gathering of Glause, and an elected legislative lower house for which elections will be held in the second year and every 2 years thereafter until the 8th year, then every 4 years thereafter.

Given the guilt of the prior Treefolken slaver-government in the matter of the Spirean Genocide, we have grave reservations about the type and nature of the armed forces that the Treefolken state should be permitted to operate.

For this reason we will assume full sovereignty of a 50 Km buffer zone (To be called the Great Civilization Satrapy of the Sylvan Marches) between Crystal Spires and High Treefolk along the border as delineated by Spirean cartographers, on the High Treefolken side of the existing border, using measures of the border from prior to the Nefreedian Invasion.

Given that ongoing elements of this agreement (Position of Arch-Chancellor, etc) exist, no Prussian, or other foreign troops excepting only training detachments less than five thousand in total numbers throughout the nation, may be installed to prevent a re-invasion of the Treefolken territory should the Greater Prussian Empire or Allanea default or renege on this agreement. I will assume the title of Arch-Chancellor of Greater Prussia.

Furthermore we require the protection of those brave individuals in the Treefolken state security apparatus, such as it was, including police and military personnel, who assisted in the removal of slaver government, as such they are to receive a guarantee of lifetime employment, should they wish it and full pension rights comparable to their Spirean contemporaries, with option of early retirement, not to be removed by any action of any party, and a lump sum payment of C€ 200,000 per person paid from Capintern Emergency Funds for their assistance in dealing with a Capintern Emergency, viz. Slaver Governance in Greater Prussia.

Furthermore all operation of Mako Reactors in Sol or any other inhabited star system by any party within High Treefolk or Greater Prussia shall be banned, all physical or magical persecution of ‘Summoners’ considered a crime by law and answered with the maximum penalty available, not to be less than death or sixteen hundred years imprisonment for all involved individuals, all production of ‘Materia’ or any other product from sapient beings or spirits, is to be likewise punishment, and to prevent fraud the exclusive legal rights to any form of ‘Materia’ discovered within High Treefolk or its seas to be auctioned to C’tani prospecting companies, who will be provided with oversight to prevent illicit production by means of aura-divination.

Given that the vast majority is derived from torture sources, all ‘Materia’ currently used by any persons or persons shall be considered illegal and surrendered to our authorities in the hope that a way can be discovered to reverse the damage done to various spirits by its creation. This shall be enforced by Prussian Gendarmes and local law enforcement.

High Treefolken Banks seized under orders of the occupation authority (which is almost all of them) will be auctioned as open share auctions in which Treefolken citizens, Prussians, C'tani and all others save slaver-states, can participate.

If these conditions are acceptable to you, we shall remove our forces from High Treefolk excluding the Satrapy as soon as it has been possible to assemble a provisional government and entrust their security to Greater Prussian Gendarmes, or in four months’ time, whichever is sooner.

Devangi Pancholi ita Dyvanakh
Proaldaconciga of the Great Civilization

[Allanea]

Official Reply from the Free Kingdom of Allanea:

This reply constitutes a provisional willingness of the Free Kingdom of Allanea to agree to the treaty as described, provided of course that the membership of the Gathering of Glausae agrees to it.

However, it is certainly possible to commence the implementation of some elements of the agreement immediately. The payment of $214,000 NSD for each of the agents of C’tani intervention will be immediately carried out (in the form of 30 11-kilogram silver bricks a man).

Further because it is impossible for a training detachment of five thousand men to train anyone or anything, we of course recommend that any future training by HTF military members be conducted in Allanea. Some of our provinces are more suitable to this than others. (This is assuming that the Transitional Government chooses to reaffirm its CAPINTERN membership. No training will be provided to a CAPINTERN non-member state.)

Furthermore, the current position of the former Gathering members as leaders of the Social, Thaumtaurgical, etc. study groups, and any positions they already carry out within Greater Prussia are to be retained by them provided of course they do not lose it in the future due to unprofessional conduct.

Signed and stamped by Maverick Monningham