A Wedding and Coronation (IC, MT, OPEN)

[AHSCA]

"Yes, you are right about that" he nodded with a smile "We march to our own beats and I would say my country and Camelone are two bands marching to the same beat. The more I think about it the more similarities I find. We're both devoutly Catholic kingdoms and heavily militaristic, from what I've seen. These people certainly like a good celebration, but then who doesn't. Their king, Frederick, throws up the Roman salute to his people, as I do to mine. However, I do find their celtic culture a bit, different. Maybe that is just the Latin in me, but I am a guest here and I must be appreciative."

A few moment passed as Cleone tapped his finger on his knee as he turned towards Marcella again "Duchess, forgive me if I offend and don't answer if I do, but all I ask is why? Did all the good men on the islands vanish?"

"Well I can at least relate in some way. My faith is a different one but I'm no less committed to it. And well we all live on this planet together best thing we can is try to get along with each other." she paused when he asked a question and she was suddenly dumbstruck by the oddity of it. She blinked multiple times to be sure she heard it correctly, she even double checked with Maruxa who repeated the question in her own native Auroran. "I-I'm sorry? But where does such a question come from?" What spurred this question, was it just because Judaeo-Christian faiths tend to be more patriarchal? "I'm not offended I'm just really...puzzled."

[Camelone]

Giovani nodded his head as he was told the interesting history of the the old kings "Those that do not rest with Christ will not rest in peace. Sad to say, you pray for men that are dead and gone.". Looking over at the joust, he found it quite interesting as it was something uncommon in Lux Pulchrae. "But I suppose, medieval sport isn't exactly a past-time. Although we do have a medieval-combat based event. It's really big, even on the national level. The king even gets in on it when he could. It's an annual event that takes place for a whole month and it varies in month and location every year but it's mostly a summer event. Teams compete in a tournament in armor and blunt weapons and beat each other until last stand. We also hold battle reenactments, that's where many of the nobles get involved. They fly their banners, put on their expensive armor, mount their horses and charge across a field with an 'army'. The biggest challenge is to beat the king's team, he always get's the best equipment, but it's been done before. It really is a great time, the winning provinces cheer down their streets and drink until the sun comes up. the archbishop smiled as he explained the sport while watching the joust.
Thinking for a moment he spoke up again "Another thing I noticed is that you use the Saluto Romano. We use it as well, having a sort of shared history with Italy, we adopted fascism under Cleone II, who was an avid fan of Mussolini's Italy. Ever since we have stuck with it, the boy-, sorry I mean the king, is quite a fan as well. I'd even say he's more than his grandfather was, he romanticizes the past too much. But with that out of the way, I would've never guessed your country the fascist type.

"Aye I know but certainly a man who defended Christendom from obliteration from a Norse horde will find some sort of reward from God for his virtue and deeds, perhaps it is wishful thinking for a remarkable man." He decided to switch gears and speak about the sports instead "A rather expensive sport there, jousts here are one of the most popular sporting events as it is much easier to put on than mass medieval combats I must say. It must be glorious to watch though. Our nobles tend to lean towards the joust with the freefolk as most of them are busy with mandatory military or civil service, or are to old. When I was younger and not a member of the clergy I would definitely have been the first one into the drinks and the last one to put the tankards down." Mainchindt joked listening to Giovani explaining the medieval sports in his lands.

"Ah yes the Roman salute. One of our High Kings during the time, I believe it was High King Gerulf Thorgest, visited Italy and found the vigor within the nation remarkable and praiseworthy so he decided to adopt some of the symbolism. We Cameloneans are very symbolic people and have always had a nationalistic instinct to ourselves but on the other hand to call the High Kingdom fascistic would be incorrect as well as power is still rather decentralized. You see the High Folkmoot primarily deals with how to get funds for various High Royal projects through taxation or other accounting while morality is the realm of the church, the military the realm of well the military and nobles, labor relations is the realm of the Livery Companies, guilds, trade unions, and the industrialists making agreements, and the needs of the people focused around the Freefolk Moot. Revisions to the Doombook are also done as well but those only happen every 10 years or so but the Brehorn are listened to more so than the government. Martial and civic pride are common and the Roman salute is seen as a strong salute to display these tendencies. I do hope I have explained it well enough for you to understand." He said before they arrived before King Frederick to which he turned to the king and spoke to him in Latin.

"My king I present Archbishop Giovani of Lux Pulchrae." The archbishop said gesturing to the other archbishop to which the king began to get up but Mainchindt waved him off to sit down. "Remain seated your highness your strength must be preserved for the coronation. Everything must be as rested as possible."

"I shall not argue with my Primate." Frederick replied in Latin, his face and voice straight and stoic. "You honor me with your presence prince of Christ's Church and I pray that your trip here was safe and had much good fortune. Camelone is Christ's Barracks and it is heartening to see outsiders visit and see why."

The call of the different jousting teams rattled out what little nerves had manifested prior. Having returned to his horse, who was himself decked out in armor bearing the various colors of The Frozen Forest. It would be televised he was aware, so if he made a fool of himself or were killed, the entire nation and many others would know as it happened. He didn't intend on dying or losing in the first round, he would have to do everything he could to stay mounted. It took about 20 minutes for his name to be called. He mounted his horse, his armor feeling hotter and heavier than it did an hour prior. Without haste he rode out onto the field, still unsure of whom he would be facing in the coming minutes. With any luck it wouldn't be the Kings son.

The across from the prince of the Frozen Forest rode a hedge knight, a man who wore the simple colors of his clan across his chest and the rest was his grey armor with no fancy designs on it but adorned with the bangs and dents of well worn metal. The herald announced both jousters as they took their positions and with a final trumpet blast and the dropping of the flags the horses were off the lances leveled and prepared to wreak havoc.

[Barnabia]

Lady Grace enjoyed the song although she could not understand it, and Ivan's drinking did not help his singing. Still the enthusiasm with which he belted it out conveyed a certain masculine robustness. In fact, considering how many vodkas Ivan had drunk, it was impressive that he was still standing. "Very pretty" she praised the singer. "Tell me what is it about?"

As Lady Grace finished off another glass of mead, she had a thought. A wicked thought. She leaned towards Ivan and whispered in his ear: "Why don't you go up to that Scarlet Eagle guard, and tell him about the emergency, the Cyborg is going to sabotage the joust, she is in the stables." As she pulled back Grace started on another mead and smiled.

[Lux Pulchrae]

"Well I can at least relate in some way. My faith is a different one but I'm no less committed to it. And well we all live on this planet together best thing we can is try to get along with each other." she paused when he asked a question and she was suddenly dumbstruck by the oddity of it. She blinked multiple times to be sure she heard it correctly, she even double checked with Maruxa who repeated the question in her own native Auroran. "I-I'm sorry? But where does such a question come from?" What spurred this question, was it just because Judaeo-Christian faiths tend to be more patriarchal? "I'm not offended I'm just really...puzzled."

"Well, didn't you have any suitors growing up?" he paused as he could see this might not set a good impression "You know, a male consort, one that will give you an heir. It'd just seem a bit dangerous for the family, to have an inclination towards the same sex." realizing in hindsight he'd just make the situation worse, he decided to drop it "Nevermind, Duchess. I can see that it was impolite of me to incite this kind of conversation. You can lead us into a different topic if you wish."

"Aye I know but certainly a man who defended Christendom from obliteration from a Norse horde will find some sort of reward from God for his virtue and deeds, perhaps it is wishful thinking for a remarkable man." He decided to switch gears and speak about the sports instead "A rather expensive sport there, jousts here are one of the most popular sporting events as it is much easier to put on than mass medieval combats I must say. It must be glorious to watch though. Our nobles tend to lean towards the joust with the freefolk as most of them are busy with mandatory military or civil service, or are to old. When I was younger and not a member of the clergy I would definitely have been the first one into the drinks and the last one to put the tankards down." Mainchindt joked listening to Giovani explaining the medieval sports in his lands.

"Ah yes the Roman salute. One of our High Kings during the time, I believe it was High King Gerulf Thorgest, visited Italy and found the vigor within the nation remarkable and praiseworthy so he decided to adopt some of the symbolism. We Cameloneans are very symbolic people and have always had a nationalistic instinct to ourselves but on the other hand to call the High Kingdom fascistic would be incorrect as well as power is still rather decentralized. You see the High Folkmoot primarily deals with how to get funds for various High Royal projects through taxation or other accounting while morality is the realm of the church, the military the realm of well the military and nobles, labor relations is the realm of the Livery Companies, guilds, trade unions, and the industrialists making agreements, and the needs of the people focused around the Freefolk Moot. Revisions to the Doombook are also done as well but those only happen every 10 years or so but the Brehorn are listened to more so than the government. Martial and civic pride are common and the Roman salute is seen as a strong salute to display these tendencies. I do hope I have explained it well enough for you to understand." He said before they arrived before King Frederick to which he turned to the king and spoke to him in Latin.

"My king I present Archbishop Giovani of Lux Pulchrae." The archbishop said gesturing to the other archbishop to which the king began to get up but Mainchindt waved him off to sit down. "Remain seated your highness your strength must be preserved for the coronation. Everything must be as rested as possible."

"I shall not argue with my Primate." Frederick replied in Latin, his face and voice straight and stoic. "You honor me with your presence prince of Christ's Church and I pray that your trip here was safe and had much good fortune. Camelone is Christ's Barracks and it is heartening to see outsiders visit and see why."

Giovani nodded his head in understanding "Everything isn't exactly centralized back home either. State ministries have their freedoms and so do the people, but as long as it is for the 'betterment of the state' as Cleone II put it back then, but I consider it a headache as what it is." he air-quoted as he explained the system as best he could. Giovani may have a role in the government but he doesn't know much outside of his duties. "I may not fully understand it but as long as it keeps me in a role where I am of great influence, it is best to keep my mouth shut."

Arriving at the king, Giovani quickly saluted Frederick "Your Highness, an honor it is to meet you and must I say, congratulations on the marriage, and may it last until your deaths.". Turning to look behind him, Giovani motioned for the monk carrying the icon to come over "Your Majesty, I meant to present this to you later but, it is her so might as well. This is a coronation gift, as Christ and Mary are crowned, so will you be soon, again."

[The Frozen Forest]

"Hyah!" Through the helmet visor his vision was limited. The hedge knight was approaching at surprising speed, he had to match it. Striking the horse roughly it neighed and shot forwards just a bit faster, giving him just enough speed to be dangerous to the other competitor. The clattering of hooves and huffing of his stead was the last thing in his mind as his opponent shattered a plain wooden lance across Ari's helmet, shooting his head back and leaving him feeling incredibly woozy. Don't be dismounted... somehow finding the strength through half-lidded eyes to regain his balance and to realize that in his moment of whiplash he had only achieved a glancing blow with his own lance. He cursed loudly beneath his helm, suddenly glad that no one could see his expression. It was obvious he had lost the first tilt but there would be two more assuming no one was unseated.

Turning with his horse and preparing for the second tilt he adjusted the new lance he was handed. Heavy and solid, meant to be shattered on the body of an opponent. He would have to dismount his opponent to be certain, otherwise he would be eliminated in the first round and there was no greater shame than that. As the second tilt began he once again gave his stead a steady kick to encourage him. His opponent seemed as confident as anyone, the fact that he had managed to score a head-blow was a merit all on its own. As the lances collided between them he was struck again, this time in the shoulder. To his satisfaction the hedgknight had taken his own blow to the head and didn't seem to have the same luck as he did to recover as he tumbled to the ground. Victory felt like a headache, certainly.

Ivan's face was flush as he described the song as simply "Odin and Alcohol." Lady Grace seemed to know something he didn't, her smile was suspicious and his drunken-state made it appear much worse than it really did. With suddenness she divulged the secret to a wide-eyed, whole-heartedly drunk Frozen Forestrian. "No! It can't be true!" He brought his hand down on the bar, forgetting that he still held the glass. It shattered into innumerable shards and the bar-tender wisely mentioned that it was alright, but he would serve Ivan no more alcohol for the night. Ari is jousting! What if she tries to kill him, what if she sabotages his lance so it kills another competitor?! "No! The Scarlet Eagles guards won't understand. i-I have to tell Frederick!"

Slipping out of his seat and taking a step onto the wobbly world of reality he suddenly wished there was more alcohol. He was doing a great service for the King by telling him, otherwise who knew what could happen. He wobbled forth a couple of steps before nonchalantly grabbing a hold of a surprised waiter. "Take me to King Frederick" conveying his seriousness, his tone of voice was anything but happy. Time was of the essence after all. The servant, obviously knowing who he was talking to proceeded to guide the man-who had to momentarily stop to gag-to Frederick and Freja. "Freja! Frederick! I-i have to tell you som'thing! Ari is in horrible danger, the Cyborg-she has infiltrated the joust and is plotting something, something horrible! You have to-you need to stop her!"

Freja happened to be adjusting and looking at the necklace she had received. It was one of many gifts of precious value, but for the moment it held her attention. Beside her Frederick was speaking with a member of the Lux Pulchrae delegation and she gave the usual formalities when addressed. A familiar voice piped up from ahead of her, just behind the Lux Pulchrae guests, as she felt the cold metal in her hand once again. Ivan's face was screwed up, so she thought, he was obviously very drunk. She sighed rather visibly before turning to her husband and Giovani. "Forgive him, i think he's drunk." To which the man before her shouted quite drunkenly that he was in fact not drunk, and had merely had a drink or two. Before anything could happen, and before he could embarrass the monarchy any more than he already had, a guard arrived to seize him by the arms and pull him away. A Frozen Forestrian Guard who seemed shocked to see Ivan in such a state.

[Barnabia]

As soon as she saw how Ivan reacted, Lady Grace decided it was best to be otherwise occupied when the dominoes that she had pushed began to fall and drew more attention. Fortunately, this meant she was already a step or two away when Ivan broke her glass. As Ivan approached the King, Lady Grace approached another guest, a stranger to her. Hopefully, a witness to her being no where near the scene Ivan was making. As the Guard grabbed Ivan, a tinge of guilt passed over Grace. She emptied her glass, hoping to drown the feeling. "Quite some wedding, isn't it?" she asked.

[AHSCA]

"Well, didn't you have any suitors growing up?" he paused as he could see this might not set a good impression "You know, a male consort, one that will give you an heir. It'd just seem a bit dangerous for the family, to have an inclination towards the same sex." realizing in hindsight he'd just make the situation worse, he decided to drop it "Nevermind, Duchess. I can see that it was impolite of me to incite this kind of conversation. You can lead us into a different topic if you wish."

"I...I see..." She figured she might as well answer, she did dig deeper. "Well, to be honest, There once was a man who caught my eye, as such it wasn't meant to be. But if you must know, I do like members of both sexes. I know not everyone sees that, I can't change everyone's mind only hope they can see it for themselves or just choose to live and let live."

[Lux Pulchrae]

"I...I see..." She figured she might as well answer, she did dig deeper. "Well, to be honest, There once was a man who caught my eye, as such it wasn't meant to be. But if you must know, I do like members of both sexes. I know not everyone sees that, I can't change everyone's mind only hope they can see it for themselves or just choose to live and let live."

"Live and let live eh? Dio mio, if we live and let live there'd be no order. He then shrugged and sighed "But I have no right to judge, we as leaders can only show our people the right path, it is their responsibility to follow. And if they don't, punishment."

Taking both his hand, he brushed his hair back, stroked his beared and spoke again in a lighter mood "Well, one thing we certainly have in common, I too have a 'friend' in Kyrenaia, I think. You probably know her if you know Aurelia, it's Princess Dschamilla. I haven't seen her in a little while but maybe that'll change soon."

[AHSCA]

"Live and let live eh? Dio mio, if we live and let live there'd be no order. He then shrugged and sighed "But I have no right to judge, we as leaders can only show our people the right path, it is their responsibility to follow. And if they don't, punishment."

Taking both his hand, he brushed his hair back, stroked his beared and spoke again in a lighter mood "Well, one thing we certainly have in common, I too have a 'friend' in Kyrenaia, I think. You probably know her if you know Aurelia, it's Princess Dschamilla. I haven't seen her in a little while but maybe that'll change soon."

She held back any further thoughts on that wanting to move along. Bringing up Dschamilla was the nice out she needed.

"Why yes, I do know the Princess Dschamilla. She's also quite a kind woman as is Aurelia."

[Kyrenaia]

She held back any further thoughts on that wanting to move along. Bringing up Dschamilla was the nice out she needed.

"Why yes, I do know the Princess Dschamilla. She's also quite a kind woman as is Aurelia."

With the dance finished, both Prince Damir and Princess Aurelia departed the dance floor, the young woman looking for Marcella with a small blush and her father watching her with a fond smile.
She wore her heart on her sleeve.
And who was he to blame her?
He smiled as he saw Cleone, who he wanted to talk to, talking with Marcella. Two birds and one stone, but he did not want to rip him or Marcella from their conversation, which seemed interesting, but he didn't want to interject.
Aurelia had other plans: She approached the two, her father in tow, and grinned.
"Dschamilla is really a wonderful woman.", she said with a smile, rejoining them, "She taught me many things I needed to know... and she was a harsh teacher, too."
After all, she was the only woman, who was allowed to call Aurelia a 'runt' and there was a story behind that.

[The Scarlet Eagle]

Alvor was suddenly approached by a group of people, of which he recognized only two vaguely. They had been at the Wedding Ceremony, and he knew of the country they represented. Citizens from the Scarlet Eagle rarely migrated to The Frozen Forest, he knew that because a report detailing immigration's low-counts had come onto his office only a week prior to his arrival in Camelone. He bent to offer a light bow to the Emperor and Empress, Colonel and wife. "It is a pleasure to meet you all. Thank you so much for coming, i hope your enjoying the reception? Ah! Well i'm hoping that i'll be able to attend more, once my sons find suitable brides. I'm quite proud of her though, Camelone is a beautiful country and its culture is not entirely dissimilar to our own." His hand strayed the curtain hanging off his chin, stroking it in an old-manly fashion.

"You're welcome, replies Anaximander with a smile to the King's thanks for coming. Although we missed the first part, from the account we got from our Foreign Minister, it was interesting to watch. Camelone is indeed a beautiful country, and although its ideology and culture differ greatly from our Empire's, it's not a reason to not try to talk to each other and enjoy this wonderful moment. I do hope your sons find suitable brides. Say, would you agree to share a glass with us? It would be a good way to know more about each other, don't you think? finishes the Emperor.
Meanwhile, Anna is asking by radio to the different Scalet Eagleans security teams the whereabouts of the other actors of the party, namely Kyrenaia, Lux Pulchrae, AHSCA, and Prince Ivan. Once she got all the replies, she made a quick report into her husband's ear, who responded with a small nod.

[Camelone]

Giovani nodded his head in understanding "Everything isn't exactly centralized back home either. State ministries have their freedoms and so do the people, but as long as it is for the 'betterment of the state' as Cleone II put it back then, but I consider it a headache as what it is." he air-quoted as he explained the system as best he could. Giovani may have a role in the government but he doesn't know much outside of his duties. "I may not fully understand it but as long as it keeps me in a role where I am of great influence, it is best to keep my mouth shut."

Arriving at the king, Giovani quickly saluted Frederick "Your Highness, an honor it is to meet you and must I say, congratulations on the marriage, and may it last until your deaths.". Turning to look behind him, Giovani motioned for the monk carrying the icon to come over "Your Majesty, I meant to present this to you later but, it is her so might as well. This is a coronation gift, as Christ and Mary are crowned, so will you be soon, again."

"May God truly watch over our marriage." Frederick replied with a smile as he looked over at Freja. Looking at the icon Frederick couldn't help but smile at the holy image as he gestured for the monk to come forward as he looks at the icon even closer "A true blessing you have bestowed upon me with this Archbishop Giovani you have my most humblest of thanks. May the Almighty Father guide me forever to fulfill His will on Earth and may He protect me from the trials that are close at hand by both blade and potion, that my mind may remain strong and the spirits of the dead assault my soul not."

"Well spoken my king, tell me have you already thought of the new name you shall take once the ordeal is over." Mainchindt asked to which the reply he got in return was a simple nod. "Excellent sire."

The two Cameloneans looked on in confusion at Ivan's outburst with the archbishop having a bemused smile dance on his lips as Frederick just stared as Ivan was escorted away. "Freja is he usually like that or is this a special circumstance? I can already imagine the mockery from the people he shall receive for his antics, I do hope he is prepared or just keep him away from the newspapers... He can't read Gaelic right?"

"Hyah!" Through the helmet visor his vision was limited. The hedge knight was approaching at surprising speed, he had to match it. Striking the horse roughly it neighed and shot forwards just a bit faster, giving him just enough speed to be dangerous to the other competitor. The clattering of hooves and huffing of his stead was the last thing in his mind as his opponent shattered a plain wooden lance across Ari's helmet, shooting his head back and leaving him feeling incredibly woozy. Don't be dismounted... somehow finding the strength through half-lidded eyes to regain his balance and to realize that in his moment of whiplash he had only achieved a glancing blow with his own lance. He cursed loudly beneath his helm, suddenly glad that no one could see his expression. It was obvious he had lost the first tilt but there would be two more assuming no one was unseated.

Turning with his horse and preparing for the second tilt he adjusted the new lance he was handed. Heavy and solid, meant to be shattered on the body of an opponent. He would have to dismount his opponent to be certain, otherwise he would be eliminated in the first round and there was no greater shame than that. As the second tilt began he once again gave his stead a steady kick to encourage him. His opponent seemed as confident as anyone, the fact that he had managed to score a head-blow was a merit all on its own. As the lances collided between them he was struck again, this time in the shoulder. To his satisfaction the hedgknight had taken his own blow to the head and didn't seem to have the same luck as he did to recover as he tumbled to the ground. Victory felt like a headache, certainly.

The hedge knight removed his helmet with a sputtering of curse words before he started to make his way over to Ari but unlike the expectations of everyone in the stands the knight extends his hand with a smile getting out a rough assortment of words that probably said he congratulated him for his victory.

The joust would continue with the younger Thorgest effortlessly sailing through the rankings, with the replay showing how effortless it was for the heir of House Thorgest to unseat his opponents hardly taking any devastating hits but delivering numerous. The only time he was unseated was when an opponent lowered his lance to his horse sending rider and mount flying but Ingeld challenged the opponent to single combat winning by beating him to a bleeding pulp after being disarmed.

[The Frozen Forest]

Freja shook her head as her brother was dragged off. If she were going home, it would have been amusing but she wouldn't. Perhaps one day she could convince Frederick to go on holiday with her back in The Frozen Forest. She had seen many amazing things in Camelone, but he had no idea of the huge snow-capped mountains of her native country. Still, Camelone would be her nation as well as that of her children, she couldn't think about her family; Her concern should be for the people of Camelone and them alone, not foreign royals. So, the joking would have to wait until the next time she visited her land of birth. Ivan had made a mockery of her homeland, but there would not be repercussions, she was sure of it. She sighed as she turned back to Frederick. "Not usually, this kind of behavior is actually kinda strange." It was strange, after all. He was generally a bit odd when he drank and in hindsight someone should have been making sure he didn't get too drunk. At the same time, he never hallucinated when he drank, so she knew that someone had to have told him about...whatever it was he was shouting about. "Not yet fortunately. He'll be unaffected by it, he's the kind of person who can shrug off embarrassment. No my father will be the only thing he's scared of.

The Hedge Knights behavior surprised Ari. Through an amalgamated mess of words he understood, generally, that he was congratulating him. Camelonean Gaelic was a unique language, he still only understood bits and pieces. In very broken Gaelic he conveyed to the man that he should talk with his guards, because he would give him a job back in The Frozen Forest. He managed to wrestle a name, Duncan Reid, from the man. When the conversation finally came to an end he joined a group of others who were watching a rather quick tilt. The Thorgest boy had proved to be just as brutal as expected, tearing his way through the competition and proving himself as a brilliant jouster. After his first victory, Ari didn't feel as queasy about the challenge, he was excited. As he was called to his next joust he moved to mount his horse, looking to see who his opponent would be.

[Lux Pulchrae]

"May God truly watch over our marriage." Frederick replied with a smile as he looked over at Freja. Looking at the icon Frederick couldn't help but smile at the holy image as he gestured for the monk to come forward as he looks at the icon even closer "A true blessing you have bestowed upon me with this Archbishop Giovani you have my most humblest of thanks. May the Almighty Father guide me forever to fulfill His will on Earth and may He protect me from the trials that are close at hand by both blade and potion, that my mind may remain strong and the spirits of the dead assault my soul not."

"Well spoken my king, tell me have you already thought of the new name you shall take once the ordeal is over." Mainchindt asked to which the reply he got in return was a simple nod. "Excellent sire."

The two Cameloneans looked on in confusion at Ivan's outburst with the archbishop having a bemused smile dance on his lips as Frederick just stared as Ivan was escorted away. "Freja is he usually like that or is this a special circumstance? I can already imagine the mockery from the people he shall receive for his antics, I do hope he is prepared or just keep him away from the newspapers... He can't read Gaelic right?"

Giovani raised an eyebrow as the drunk man burst to the scene. He fought his will to laugh out loud at the incredibly ridiculous statement. "Well, that was certainly something interesting, don't you think Mainchindt? Did that man sneak in? We had just started and already we have drunkards, either your alcohol is very strong or that man has a very low tolerance."
Watching the guards take the man away and hearing the resulting conversation, he addressed Frederick "Well Your Highness, you sure have some fine entertainment, jousting, music, drunkards, I do hope there's more planned. When I used to get intoxicated, a while back, I'd dance on tables and sing folk song of home. Thankfully that era is over now."

With the dance finished, both Prince Damir and Princess Aurelia departed the dance floor, the young woman looking for Marcella with a small blush and her father watching her with a fond smile.
She wore her heart on her sleeve.
And who was he to blame her?
He smiled as he saw Cleone, who he wanted to talk to, talking with Marcella. Two birds and one stone, but he did not want to rip him or Marcella from their conversation, which seemed interesting, but he didn't want to interject.
Aurelia had other plans: She approached the two, her father in tow, and grinned.
"Dschamilla is really a wonderful woman.", she said with a smile, rejoining them, "She taught me many things I needed to know... and she was a harsh teacher, too."
After all, she was the only woman, who was allowed to call Aurelia a 'runt' and there was a story behind that.

Standing with his arms crossed, Cleone shot a thought around his head "So, Princess Aurelia, how are the people back home? The Sultana and Mahmut and Dschamilla? Has my name ever echoed in those halls since my only visit?"

[Kyrenaia]

Standing with his arms crossed, Cleone shot a thought around his head "So, Princess Aurelia, how are the people back home? The Sultana and Mahmut and Dschamilla? Has my name ever echoed in those halls since my only visit?"

Aurelia smiled at Cleone's.
"Oh, the people back home are all very well. The Sultana rules with wisdom and courage, guiding not only Kyrenaia but also the young Princes and Princesses with wise words and good advice. The Grand Vizier..." She thought, that he meant the old man with Mahmut, not his young nephew, a Prince of the Ilkhanate of Sarepta. "...is getting on with the years, but still his merry, bearded and wise self, teaching his nephew and being taught by him. Dschamilla's getting in a busy time with her studies, but whenever I meet her, she looks well, if a bit stressed."
She let a beat pass, as she leaned forward a bit as if to tell a secret.
"She is quite smitten by you.", she whispered to him and winked, telling him not only a secret, but a tip as she retreated and spoke louder again. "About your name, or rather the name of Lux Pulchrae, echoing in the Halls of Azure...", she continued, "...it indeed has, and positively at that. Not everyone can say that." She thought of the Scarlet Eagle People and their current diplomatic standing in Kyrenaia, a small ice age that was hopefully soon thawing. "Father has more details, but he wanted to talk to you aside from everything later. From what I know, it's positive, though."

Meanwhile, keeping up with their deal, Damir smiled slightly at Marcella, bowing his head and offering his hand.
"Marcella-Khana, would you mind me kidnapping you for a dance or two?", he said with a charming diplomat's smile. He was also a bon vivant. "I must admit, that I rarely dance to tunes such as these, but no time like the present, wouldn't you agree?"
Indeed, the local dance tunes were unusual for him, but that did little to stop him (or his daughter for that matter, who was conversing with Cleone).

[Camelone]

Freja shook her head as her brother was dragged off. If she were going home, it would have been amusing but she wouldn't. Perhaps one day she could convince Frederick to go on holiday with her back in The Frozen Forest. She had seen many amazing things in Camelone, but he had no idea of the huge snow-capped mountains of her native country. Still, Camelone would be her nation as well as that of her children, she couldn't think about her family; Her concern should be for the people of Camelone and them alone, not foreign royals. So, the joking would have to wait until the next time she visited her land of birth. Ivan had made a mockery of her homeland, but there would not be repercussions, she was sure of it. She sighed as she turned back to Frederick. "Not usually, this kind of behavior is actually kinda strange." It was strange, after all. He was generally a bit odd when he drank and in hindsight someone should have been making sure he didn't get too drunk. At the same time, he never hallucinated when he drank, so she knew that someone had to have told him about...whatever it was he was shouting about. "Not yet fortunately. He'll be unaffected by it, he's the kind of person who can shrug off embarrassment. No my father will be the only thing he's scared of.

"Well then good for him on one front but for him on the other front. Hopefully your father does not lay into him to badly." Was all Frederick could say of the situation now that it was done and over,thankful that nothing truly embarrassing for Camelone occurred there. Returning his gaze back to the archbishop in front of him Frederick could not hep but grin at what Giovani said. "Perhaps it is a combination of both, he may have gotten into the heavier alcohol. As for more entertainment tonight I am sad to inform you besides the brawl at midnight, which should be starting soon, there is nothing else coming up, just the coronation tomorrow evening and the vigil before then of the original great houses... all 8 of the houses this time around."

The Hedge Knights behavior surprised Ari. Through an amalgamated mess of words he understood, generally, that he was congratulating him. Camelonean Gaelic was a unique language, he still only understood bits and pieces. In very broken Gaelic he conveyed to the man that he should talk with his guards, because he would give him a job back in The Frozen Forest. He managed to wrestle a name, Duncan Reid, from the man. When the conversation finally came to an end he joined a group of others who were watching a rather quick tilt. The Thorgest boy had proved to be just as brutal as expected, tearing his way through the competition and proving himself as a brilliant jouster. After his first victory, Ari didn't feel as queasy about the challenge, he was excited. As he was called to his next joust he moved to mount his horse, looking to see who his opponent would be.

The joust continued on all the way to the semi-final where Ingeld rode up opposite of Ari, his helmet already fully secured and ready to begin leaving no chance for Ari to gauge how the heir of House Thorgest was feeling but by his posture there was no doubt that he expected to secure the championship. Most of the Cameloneans were surprised that the Frozen Foresterian was able to get as far as he did but their loyalty was with the favorite of the tournament.

On the large field near the stone circle more than a hundred young men were there waiting for the signal to begin, the signal being a single gun shot that went off sending the men scrambling forward to get to the center of the circle and claim their prize. Already the brawl was beginning as the young men tackled or pushed their competitors down to push themselves forward much to the enjoyment of the watching crowd who cheered them on.

[Camelone]

The next night rolled in without much fanfare, the entire city fell silent and the royal colors had been lowered instead replaced with a black flag usually reserved for mourning the dead. No fiddle, drums, or flutes could be heard as the people milled about and the Tomb Guard, as well as a large contingent of priests, walked throughout the entire city with incense chanting prayers, a solemn attitude befell the entirety of the city. All Cameloneans knew what was to come and that the king would die so that the High King may rise, but murmurs abounded that something was different this time around, that there was a challenger who would not see King Frederick ascend to the High Kingship.

Frederick himself did not retire to his room for the night after the festivities ended instead he went to the chapel attached to the Krieger residence in Cnoc na Teamhrach and spent the night in prayer and training. Moving through the movements of his swordwork he pushed himself so that everything would be sharpened for the night to come, death was to come again when the sun set and Frederick was going to be the one who killed not the one who died. Alternating between training and prayer Frederick remained awake till the sun rose in the distance and that was when he called for the servants to bring him a blanket he would sleep in the chapel and sent a messenger to Freja explaining his actions. He had to purify his soul and sharpen his skills to survive the night, even if it would only be his soul that survived with Christ.

As sunset approached Frederick traveled with Freja in their carriage, he wore once more the blue warpaint decorated across his body and his hair was spiked up as well taking the appearance of a Celtic warrior once more. With jaw pulled tight he spoke little to anyone and his eyes were set in a steely determination of a man who was prepared to walk through Hell and back again, preparing himself for what was most likely to come, his Inquisitors had reported back that his guest had done the fast as well. As they neared the site of the Tomb of the High Kings the roadways were filled with citizens looking on as the nobility and leaders of the other Moots arrived in traditional garb with their retinues in tow.

The Tomb of the High Kings was situated on an island and surrounded by cliffs all the way around forming a canyon with only one way in, a ramp down where the lower nobility took up position to act as a sort of honor guard for the kings and grand dukes of the realm. Right before the moat that encircled the tomb sat a circle of standing stones with eight stone thrones emblazoned with the coat of arms of the great houses of Camelone with torches being lit and the Tomb Guard stood in the shadows in their monastic vestments. The tomb itself was a towering burial mound with a great entrance of stone dragons and images of ancient Camelonean history inlaid into the mound and a large Celtic cross atop it. A wind begin blowing hard as the great houses made their way down the walkway flanked by the lower nobility and on the top of the cliffs the citizenry stood watching intently as they made their ways up to the stone circle. Before Frederick and Freja walked forward guards led a hooded man forward in shackles, and Frederick gripped onto Freja's hand tightly as he passed, that was him the man who would either die or kill him this day.

Slowly he walked forward arm in arm with Freja, his eyes trained on the man in front of him as were the eyes of every Camelonean the hush that was present before was now shattered with whispers. This only grew as the man stood before the throne that was the least maintained and barely being held together, the colors of the coat of arms were barely even visible. Kissing Freja's hand before Frederick turned and stood in front of the throne of House Krieger and all eight of the great lords sat when Archbishop Mainchindt walked to the center and began the ceremony. The foreign guests were brought up close to the stone circle, given spots of honor so that they could hear and see what was going on rather well.

"We gather here at the place where the first High King of Camelone took up the mantle to protect Camelone to once more bestow it upon another. The Estates of the Realm and the great houses are now here gathered to do their holy duty of securing the future of Camelone, may God guide us in our deeds and words. In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ I open the voting." With that the representatives of the Moots, or Estates, made their way up with their gifts and laid them at the feet of their chosen claimant, most going before the feet of Frederick but a few went before House Thorgest or House O'Devlin not enough to even come close to swaying the vote though. Then came the Grand Duke's and all four of them laid their blades before the throne of Frederick touching their foreheads to the ground afterwards before they returned to their own thrones. "The Moots and Grand Dukes have spoken. Kings of the realm do you object?" Mainchindt said, continuing to speak in Gaelic.

King Brian O'Devlin stood from his throne and with a booming voice said "House O'Devlin accepts the will of the realm."

After King Brian sat back down the old Thorgest patriarch stood up with the help of his son. Clearing his throat King Baruch Thorgest spoke "House Thorgest accepts the will of the realm and praises God for their pick." Smiling at Frederick, who returned the smile with a nod, he was lowered back into his throne.

Finally the hooded man stood and lowered his hood. He was a young, and a rather handsome man with jet black hair and emerald eyes, his face was serious as the shackles jingled as he stood. "I, Lucius Schola, stand as the representative of House Schola." The whispers once more began and the atmosphere of the event turned deadly serious. "House Schola rejects the 'will of the realm' and exercises our prerogative of trial by combat to prevent the assumption of the throne by this pretender!" The whispers erupted into an uproar at this, the Blood Veto had not been put forward in more than 400 years. The time had come and now a duel to the death was about to occur, the guards unshackled Lucius and Frederick unclipped his cloak letting it fall to the ground as he called for his shield and for Archbishop Mainchindt to come over and hear his confession. The sun had now set and the only source of light was the torches surrounding the stone circle and the lights of the cameras.

[Kyrenaia]

The next night rolled in without much fanfare, the entire city fell silent and the royal colors had been lowered instead replaced with a black flag usually reserved for mourning the dead. No fiddle, drums, or flutes could be heard as the people milled about and the Tomb Guard, as well as a large contingent of priests, walked throughout the entire city with incense chanting prayers, a solemn attitude befell the entirety of the city. All Cameloneans knew what was to come and that the king would die so that the High King may rise, but murmurs abounded that something was different this time around, that there was a challenger who would not see King Frederick ascend to the High Kingship.

Frederick himself did not retire to his room for the night after the festivities ended instead he went to the chapel attached to the Krieger residence in Cnoc na Teamhrach and spent the night in prayer and training. Moving through the movements of his swordwork he pushed himself so that everything would be sharpened for the night to come, death was to come again when the sun set and Frederick was going to be the one who killed not the one who died. Alternating between training and prayer Frederick remained awake till the sun rose in the distance and that was when he called for the servants to bring him a blanket he would sleep in the chapel and sent a messenger to Freja explaining his actions. He had to purify his soul and sharpen his skills to survive the night, even if it would only be his soul that survived with Christ.

As sunset approached Frederick traveled with Freja in their carriage, he wore once more the blue warpaint decorated across his body and his hair was spiked up as well taking the appearance of a Celtic warrior once more. With jaw pulled tight he spoke little to anyone and his eyes were set in a steely determination of a man who was prepared to walk through Hell and back again, preparing himself for what was most likely to come, his Inquisitors had reported back that his guest had done the fast as well. As they neared the site of the Tomb of the High Kings the roadways were filled with citizens looking on as the nobility and leaders of the other Moots arrived in traditional garb with their retinues in tow.

The Tomb of the High Kings was situated on an island and surrounded by cliffs all the way around forming a canyon with only one way in, a ramp down where the lower nobility took up position to act as a sort of honor guard for the kings and grand dukes of the realm. Right before the moat that encircled the tomb sat a circle of standing stones with eight stone thrones emblazoned with the coat of arms of the great houses of Camelone with torches being lit and the Tomb Guard stood in the shadows in their monastic vestments. The tomb itself was a towering burial mound with a great entrance of stone dragons and images of ancient Camelonean history inlaid into the mound and a large Celtic cross atop it. A wind begin blowing hard as the great houses made their way down the walkway flanked by the lower nobility and on the top of the cliffs the citizenry stood watching intently as they made their ways up to the stone circle. Before Frederick and Freja walked forward guards led a hooded man forward in shackles, and Frederick gripped onto Freja's hand tightly as he passed, that was him the man who would either die or kill him this day.

Slowly he walked forward arm in arm with Freja, his eyes trained on the man in front of him as were the eyes of every Camelonean the hush that was present before was now shattered with whispers. This only grew as the man stood before the throne that was the least maintained and barely being held together, the colors of the coat of arms were barely even visible. Kissing Freja's hand before Frederick turned and stood in front of the throne of House Krieger and all eight of the great lords sat when Archbishop Mainchindt walked to the center and began the ceremony. The foreign guests were brought up close to the stone circle, given spots of honor so that they could hear and see what was going on rather well.

"We gather here at the place where the first High King of Camelone took up the mantle to protect Camelone to once more bestow it upon another. The Estates of the Realm and the great houses are now here gathered to do their holy duty of securing the future of Camelone, may God guide us in our deeds and words. In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ I open the voting." With that the representatives of the Moots, or Estates, made their way up with their gifts and laid them at the feet of their chosen claimant, most going before the feet of Frederick but a few went before House Thorgest or House O'Devlin not enough to even come close to swaying the vote though. Then came the Grand Duke's and all four of them laid their blades before the throne of Frederick touching their foreheads to the ground afterwards before they returned to their own thrones. "The Moots and Grand Dukes have spoken. Kings of the realm do you object?" Mainchindt said, continuing to speak in Gaelic.

King Brian O'Devlin stood from his throne and with a booming voice said "House O'Devlin accepts the will of the realm."

After King Brian sat back down the old Thorgest patriarch stood up with the help of his son. Clearing his throat King Baruch Thorgest spoke "House Thorgest accepts the will of the realm and praises God for their pick." Smiling at Frederick, who returned the smile with a nod, he was lowered back into his throne.

Finally the hooded man stood and lowered his hood. He was a young, and a rather handsome man with jet black hair and emerald eyes, his face was serious as the shackles jingled as he stood. "I, Lucius Schola, stand as the representative of House Schola." The whispers once more began and the atmosphere of the event turned deadly serious. "House Schola rejects the 'will of the realm' and exercises our prerogative of trial by combat to prevent the assumption of the throne by this pretender!" The whispers erupted into an uproar at this, the Blood Veto had not been put forward in more than 400 years. The time had come and now a duel to the death was about to occur, the guards unshackled Lucius and Frederick unclipped his cloak letting it fall to the ground as he called for his shield and for Archbishop Mainchindt to come over and hear his confession. The sun had now set and the only source of light was the torches surrounding the stone circle and the lights of the cameras.

After the party was over, both Damir and Aurelia retreated to refresh themselves and catch a bit of shut-eye before the night, the voting-ceremony.
There was something similar in Kyrenaia, one of the Five Ilkhans, usually the oldest, was to propose as a claimant to the Sultan's Throne, who would have to either accept the nomination or not. Then, if the nominee accepted, the other four Ilkhans either agreed or disagreed. There was surprisingly little dissent recorded to most of the votes, mainly because everything had been arranged beforehand and the Ilkhans had selected someone, who either served their own personal gains or the Sultanate best.
The ceremony was usually held at the Citadel on the Mountain.
All that in mind, the two Kyrenaians and their translator, who provided running commentary, watched the proceedings inside of the stone circle.
Aurelia had changed, now not a Beautiful Princess anymore but a Beautiful Kyrenaian Princess, dressed in traditional costume. People often assumed, that the Altanafus min la Shay', the Breath of Nothing, which was also known as the Handmaiden's Dress, was the traditonal dress for Kyrenaian Women, but that was not the case. The Fistan Alshams, the literally Sun Dress, was their traditional costume.
For women, that meant a bare midriff with a bustier, in her case in burgundy, with short sleeves barely qualifying as such, and harem-pants reaching from her hips to her ankles, in bugundy as well. The edges of the pieces of clothing were decorated with golden lace, while she wore a silver necklace around her neck, which's centrepiece was a sapphire of the colour of her eyes. She wore neither bracelets nor bangles, but, as it was usual, the veil, hip-length as appropriate, covering her long hair in translucent, white silk.
Her father had changed, too, into the male Fistan Alshams, which consisted in his case of a pair of white harem-pants, ending a bit over the ankles, held up by a leather belt, which was covered by a long, deep red length of cloth, his well-trained upper body (he did not need to shy away from the image King Frederick had given the day before, that was for sure) covered in a violet vest, an golden arm guard around his right arm.
Sadly, much of either attires were hidden under thick cloaks for, to the Kyrenaians, it was bloody cold.
"Amateurs.", he whispered as Lucius stepped forth to oppose the 'will of the realm'. Something like that had happened in Kyrenaia, last time it did resulted in what was now called the Third Kyrenaian Civil War, which had lasted from 1594 to 1632, which had been fought to a point, when no one in charge knew anymore, why they had fought in the first place.
"He is kind-of cute, though.", Aurelia commented on Lucius Schola's appearance, causing her father to snort in amusement. They both asked themselves, why he was in shackles, though.

[The Frozen Forest]

The reception ended without anymore unfortunate issues. The guests were dismissed back to their hotels. She sat in her chair exhausted from the long partying, it was a happy experience though. A wide grin spread across her maw as her husband came into place, but something seemed off about him. She felt lightning rush through her blood, alarmed by the expression he wore. She had expected to spend the night with him, the first night they would be allowed to do so, that they were expected to do so. She didn't understand why but she wasn't angry when he dismissed her for the night, he would be busy, the guards told her. No she was more alarmed as to what Frederick was going through so suddenly, what could alarm him. One of her guards, a Frozen Forestrian who had originally came to watch over Ivan, had mentioned "a challenger" whatever that meant, she doubted even the guard knew.

That night she got very little sleep. She was restless, not understanding what was going on but knowing that it potentially dangerous. She would have the let Frederick deal with it himself, or at least, she couldn't try to act the part of a hero for him. Whatever was coming, it had to do with him. She knew that the next day was the coronation, what little sleep was to be had was filled to no-vacancy by reams of potential assassins, rogue terrorists plots, even an usurper to the throne. She felt exhausted that next morning, her body didn't want to move from the cold-lonely sheets. Perhaps she expected him to be at the door but alas, it wasn't. A short, prepubescent boy with a letter in hand refused to enter the room. Being Queen of Camelone was certainly different, is this how my mother felt? she joked to herself, trying to cover up her anxiety.

Reading the letter relieved many of her fears, but brought forth a few new ones. She understood that he would be tried soon, his life would be in danger and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She prayed, she was probably the most religious of her family members, apart from her father-But this intense form of prayer was more desperate. She begged for Frederick to live, to survive, to not be widowed after only a day and a night. When the carriage came to collect her that morning, she was aware it would be picking up Frederick as well. Her eyes widened when he entered the carriage, deathly surprised. She would have laughed if she didn't understand entirely the seriousness of what her husband was going through. Despite his centuries old appearance and steely determination, she leaned against him in the carriage, wondering what was to come. While she was radiating only a soft, slow warmth-he burned with intense fury, at least the amount of heat pouring off his body made it obvious he was either scared or ready for a fight.

They were taken to a canyon where an immense number of other people had gathered. Some looked incredibly wealthy, others seemed to hold unbelievable amounts of power or control. She was in the presence of Kings, Dukes, the like. She felt a strong hand grip hers as a man passed, hooded but radiating a sense of urgency. She realized that the hand belonged to Frederick, she turned her head to look at him. All of it, this was a huge change from the day before. Last night, the reception had been so happy and fulfilling. Today she could only feel tenseness from those around her. Before long Frederick turned suddenly, kissing her hand before leaving her to attend with the other lords. She stayed back with the guards. She understood that this was his coronation.

One by one she watched as men began to show their support publicly to the various houses. Most laid them down at Frederick's feet, a few others at the feet of others. The Grand Dukes all showed their support for Frederick. After the demonstration was over, Frederick had been chosen. They began to call out to the houses, asking if they would accept the will of the realm. She felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped. She turned to see a sober Ivan. Her brother seemed to understand more than she did, he had to have read into the Coronation more than she had asked about it, or maybe he'd caught some of the rumors that had floated around. His face was hard and serious, and that helped steady her. "It'll be alright" he whispered just as House House O'Devlin declared its support.

The next person to stand happened to be the man in shackles from earlier. He declared his name to be Lucius Schola, Represenative of House Schola. Ivans grip on her shoulder tightened, making her wince. She understood that he was tense for a reason, the reason so many others had been tense. He declared loudly and boldly that he intended to stop Frederick from taking the throne, trial by combat would be the means by which it was contested. "Lucius has called for a Blood Veto, something that hasn't been done in centuries." Ivan explained, neither his nor her eyes leaving Frederick. He dropped his cloak as Lucius was unshackled. Someone came forwards with a shield. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, panic running through her. If he lost, she presumed that would mean his death. She was too young to be a widow.

Ivan had heard about the Blood Oath and the rumors from a new friend of his. After being pulled away drunk by his wonderful bodyguard he had been taken home. Still quite drunk he decided to go outside for a bit instead of sleep inside the hotel. It just so happened that an old man by the name of Ethan. He was the owner of a local tavern and had overheard talk all day about a challenger of Fredericks. He said that house Schola would be challenging the Krieger King during the coronation. He had explained the whole ordeal and the basics of the Blood Veto over a drink in his tavern, where he'd spent the night.

The rest of the family was gathered not too far away. King Alvor had seen many similar rituals for the selection of a High King, King, Chief, you name it, in his years of travel and diplomacy. He saw it not as his children did, as something that the family should be hugely concerned about. To him it didn't matter that Freja had just married Frederick. If Frederick died then it was Gods Will that he was felled, and he would find Freja a new husband. She would protest, she would hate him but she would obey in time. Of course if the silver-haired man won then all the better. Such decisions came with age and experience. He was looking out for the best of his family, he couldn't control fate but he could do whatever it took to stop his own blood from dying alone. He turned to another delegation and struck up a conversation as they waited for the battle to begin.

Ari watched the ceremony with greater curiosity than his father. He could feel a wave of coldness from the old man. He could be heartless sometimes and Ari wondered if it was about the duel that was about to be fought. Combat was something he'd always relished in, but he wasn't eager to his his new brother in law with a cut neck. He understood that the fight could-if not would be lethal to one party or the other. He considered whether he could do the same if he was ever to take The Frozen Forestrian Throne. That is, if his brother ever passed. None of the Noble Families would challenge a King in his homeland, well maybe they would, but it hadn't been done in centuries. Ivan had said the blood veto hadn't been conducted in about that long either. He wouldn't admit he was nervous for her sisters sake, but he was. Nearby the Kyrenaia delegation made a comment that should have been out of earshot. He acted like he didn't hear it as he continued to stare give his attention to the two men before them.

[Lux Pulchrae]

Retreating to their rooms after the reception, Cleone felt a bit groggy from the drinking and the fun he was having hours prior. The two took a walk around the grounds to shake it off. Giovani looked on at the moon as Cleone sat down on the ground with a nice night breeze. "You do-a know being-a drunk is a sin and you received today?" he spoke in his limited english. Cleone waved it off in response "Good thing I'm not drunk, only heavily drinking. I still have my conscious capacity, it's all good patre. Piu, its a festival, I'm only indulging in what's offered to me."

Walking back to their rooms, they saw the seemingly dead country, it made Cleone quite questionable. "Hm, quite silent the nights are here, what do you think?"

"Well, it is bedtime for everyone so I'd imagine it'd be quiet." Giovani threw back, hinting that they should head back now.

The coronation day had finally arrived. Everyone of importance was shewed to onto the island where the coronation was held, Giovani went in his usual archbishop garments with cassock and zucchetto and Cleone wore a black suit, with black vest and red shirt under it. The formalities were quite intriguing, a shackled man was ushered in before Frederick. Him, the other kings of Camelone and the grand dukes all sat together. Cleone and Giovani watched closely at the voting ceremony. Lux Pulchrae had a similar practice, although executed differently. The last time dukes voted for a king was a little over a hundred years ago by the Royal Electorate Committee, it's what put the Angeli family in power.

Suddenly the ceremony got even more interesting. The robed man revealed himself and challenged Frederick. Neither Cleone or Giovani caught his name but the challenge surely caught Cleone's attention and excitement, this concept was almost foreign to him.

Thinking of any similar events back home, he asked Giovani "Your Eminence, didn't my great-grandfather get into this kind of situation?"

"How old do you think I am? I was born when your grandfather was king." Giovani said with a frustrated tone and sighed a moment later "But, if you want to know, Cleone the First was in a duel. But this was a couple months before final vote of the Committee, when he was Duke of Lazzaro. He was challenged by Baron Pierre Chasseur du Banque." he explained the event and eyed Cleone "Seeing as you're still here, you can guess how that went."

"I'd say it went well." Cleone said with a cheeky smile.

[Camelone]

Frederick knelt in front of Archbishop Mainchindt who bent down to hear the king, he was giving his confession before the duel while Lucius was unshackled. As the shackles were moved away Lucius unclipped his own cloak letting it fall to the ground revealing runic inscriptions burned into his skin, they covered almost every inch of his exposed body but even to those who could make out what the runes said it was all gibberish to their minds. Breaking off the crest that sat on his throne he set it in front of him as a sort of bowl where he poured a blood red liquid from a vial that had been on his belt, sprinkling in some sort of powder from a different pouch his lips moved quickly as he knelt before it in some sort of trance.

Frederick stood after Mainchindt finished the absolution and watched Lucius conduct whatever it was he was doing with a scowl on his face, something that faded quickly as he collected himself once more. "I see that the Raven is not the King of the Abyss. So you are the Witch King I have heard so much of, the great heathen who has been plaguing Camelone for so long. Tonight will I not only enter the tomb but I will purge you from this land, Christ be my witness to this oath." Frederick calmly said when Lucius ceased to chant and be in a trance like state to which the sorcerer merely smiled at him, a dark and humorless smile.

"Aye you will enter a tomb tonight King Frederick but you will not emerge from it in the morning. Your oath means nothing as I control a power far greater than any prayer to your Christ god can grant you, oath far more powerful and can drive the weak to madness, beings and secrets that the great houses of this realm seal behind their mighty and blessed vaults. Vaults that hold knowledge and wisdom that can lead this world to a new age, an age led by Camelone but you and the other great houses hide them in fear, hide them for their power so that they will never see the light of day. No with your death tonight the Blood Oath will be dissolved and Camelone will rise to greatness."

It was Frederick's turn to smile and shake his head, though he and a few other prominent Cameloneans held grim faces at the mention of the vaults while the vast majority looked at each other in confusion not knowing what Lucius was talking about.

"So why not your brother, why not the Raven here this day instead of his younger brother? To cowardly to fight himself?" Frederick inquired trying to figure out the play of House Schola but Lucius scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"The mighty Raven is nothing but a coward and a dishonorable and insufferable man with delusions of grandeur. No I am here to reclaim the honor my house, so that House Schola will not be known as the house of traitors and scoundrels. Now I believe we have talked enough and it is time for steel to settle the issue." Lucius calmly replied.

Bringing the makeshift bowl up to his mouth Lucius began drinking the concoction, when he was done he was handed a Dane axe and seemed to be taken about by new strength and willingness to fight. Lucius' eyes were bloodshot and wild looking as his face contorted into an animalistic desire to kill focused slowly on Frederick who stood stone faced. Frederick brought his shield up to cover most of his body while he placed his bastard sword over the top of his shield pointed at the feral looking Lucius as the two stood ready to fight slowly moving towards each other examining for ways to break through the defenses and land a quick killing blow. Everyone watched tensely because they knew that if Frederick was killed than it would be an entire year that they would have to go without a High King or even a leading king, it would destabilize the realm as the two remaining royal houses would have to negotiate who rises to the throne, perhaps leading to another reign of the Brehorn.

[Kyrenaia]

Frederick knelt in front of Archbishop Mainchindt who bent down to hear the king, he was giving his confession before the duel while Lucius was unshackled. As the shackles were moved away Lucius unclipped his own cloak letting it fall to the ground revealing runic inscriptions burned into his skin, they covered almost every inch of his exposed body but even to those who could make out what the runes said it was all gibberish to their minds. Breaking off the crest that sat on his throne he set it in front of him as a sort of bowl where he poured a blood red liquid from a vial that had been on his belt, sprinkling in some sort of powder from a different pouch his lips moved quickly as he knelt before it in some sort of trance.

Frederick stood after Mainchindt finished the absolution and watched Lucius conduct whatever it was he was doing with a scowl on his face, something that faded quickly as he collected himself once more. "I see that the Raven is not the King of the Abyss. So you are the Witch King I have heard so much of, the great heathen who has been plaguing Camelone for so long. Tonight will I not only enter the tomb but I will purge you from this land, Christ be my witness to this oath." Frederick calmly said when Lucius ceased to chant and be in a trance like state to which the sorcerer merely smiled at him, a dark and humorless smile.

"Aye you will enter a tomb tonight King Frederick but you will not emerge from it in the morning. Your oath means nothing as I control a power far greater than any prayer to your Christ god can grant you, oath far more powerful and can drive the weak to madness, beings and secrets that the great houses of this realm seal behind their mighty and blessed vaults. Vaults that hold knowledge and wisdom that can lead this world to a new age, an age led by Camelone but you and the other great houses hide them in fear, hide them for their power so that they will never see the light of day. No with your death tonight the Blood Oath will be dissolved and Camelone will rise to greatness."

It was Frederick's turn to smile and shake his head, though he and a few other prominent Cameloneans held grim faces at the mention of the vaults while the vast majority looked at each other in confusion not knowing what Lucius was talking about.

"So why not your brother, why not the Raven here this day instead of his younger brother? To cowardly to fight himself?" Frederick inquired trying to figure out the play of House Schola but Lucius scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"The mighty Raven is nothing but a coward and a dishonorable and insufferable man with delusions of grandeur. No I am here to reclaim the honor my house, so that House Schola will not be known as the house of traitors and scoundrels. Now I believe we have talked enough and it is time for steel to settle the issue." Lucius calmly replied.

Bringing the makeshift bowl up to his mouth Lucius began drinking the concoction, when he was done he was handed a Dane axe and seemed to be taken about by new strength and willingness to fight. Lucius' eyes were bloodshot and wild looking as his face contorted into an animalistic desire to kill focused slowly on Frederick who stood stone faced. Frederick brought his shield up to cover most of his body while he placed his bastard sword over the top of his shield pointed at the feral looking Lucius as the two stood ready to fight slowly moving towards each other examining for ways to break through the defenses and land a quick killing blow. Everyone watched tensely because they knew that if Frederick was killed than it would be an entire year that they would have to go without a High King or even a leading king, it would destabilize the realm as the two remaining royal houses would have to negotiate who rises to the throne, perhaps leading to another reign of the Brehorn.

When the chap, who had been called cute by Aurelia prepared his drink, drank it and then looked not only like he wanted to murder someone (which was a given, given their situation), Damir whispered to his daughter, directly to her ear: "You have a strange taste in men."
Aurelia shrugged lightly, causing her father to grin for but a moment, before he stood upright again, the two Kyrenaians watching the ceremony with rapt attention.
The implications were not lost on them: Should Frederick win, his position of power amongst these people would be strengthened. From that internal stability came external strength, which would bring Camelone into the position to participate more in the affairs of the world.
Should Frederick loose and die, Camelone would be considerably weakened. No one clearly claiming the throne, leading the nation, until the remaining houses figured themselves out. For at least a year, maybe more, Camelone would be leaderless, as the Chandshar predicted, effectively taking itself out of global affairs, then for quite a bit of more time not being able to participate as well, for the new leader would have to strengthen his own position back home... provided, of course, that he had intelligence.
Neither Damir, nor his daughter knew, which outcome they would prefer, politically speaking. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, they assumed, would come to a similar conclusion once informed. They knew, that there were currently people from them and the Chandshar watching the broadcast, telephone cables being warmed by the lovely conversations between the Sultana, the Grand Vizier and Vizier ben Sahid, planning for all eventualities, as they assumed.
That was the case.
In the end, both Kyrenaians present concluded independently, this ordeal Schola had begun damaged Camelone more then it was of use for it. Most likely, they recalled from the profiles, neither of them would be able to see it that way.
So... all that was left to the Kyrenaians was to wait for the result, who's blood would be spilled. Aurelia still thought, that Lucius had been kind of cute, at least before he drank whatever he had drunk.
Their translator provided them with a running commentary in hushed whispers on what was happening in front of them.

[Camelone]

The two combatants moved close to each other with Lucius launching the first strike with his mighty ax forcing Frederick to stumble backwards as he had not expected such strength. Attempting to capitalize on this Lucius began whirling his great ax around as if it was a mere twig forcing the patriarch of House Krieger endlessly stumbling backwards until his back was against one of the standing stones, brutally being slammed against it with every blow until the proud king began to fall slowly to the ground finding the ability to stand fleeing him. Gasping for breath and now slumping against the standing stone Frederick could only look up as Lucius laughed planting his ax into the ground before gesturing to the crowd with a grin upon his face.

"Is this the man you wish to lead you folk of Camelone? This man who cowers behind his shield and fails to stand on his own legs? This is no man worthy to rule over the strong folk of Camelone!" Lucius bellowed out soon followed by laughter as Frederick forced himself to his feet leaning heavily on his sword "Ah I see the good king has some fight within his heart still, perhaps this is what the spirits tell me is your strength for it is not your physicality or athleticism." Gripping his ax once more within a blink of an eye Frederick's sword went clattering across the stone and he fell hard, attempting to rise once more Lucius swiftly kicked him in the ribs sending him back to the ground once more and tumbling. Again the king attempted to arise and he was reminded of the feeling of the boot of Lucius coughing up blood as once more Frederick tried to push himself upright. With a frustrated growl Lucius bent down and gripped Frederick by his neck, lifting him up from the ground and holding him high before swiftly slamming him up again a standing stone, all Frederick could do was try and feebly break the grip of the beast that held him. "Tonight is the end of House Krieger!"

All Cameloneans held faces of grim resignation and the silence was only interrupted by the quietest of prayers by the more pious of the group. Tonight it truly did seem that House Krieger would be coming to an end.

"You are nothing proud king. You shall be forgotten bones soon enough with none but the worms to keep you company." Lucius gloated as he dropped Frederick to the ground and walked to grab his ax, lifting it high he brought it rushing down towards Frederick but instead of the ax head embedding itself in the king it found itself stopped by a strong arm holding the wood.

"I am Frederick, son of Ludwig, a mere servant of Christ." Frederick said emotionless as he rose to his feet staring down Lucius with a renewed ferocity before delivering a hard knee to his stomach followed swiftly by a fist across his face sending the Great Heathen stumbling backward without his great ax. Grabbing Frederick's sword Lucius stood armed once more looking at Frederick, who tossed the ax to him. Gripping his ax Lucius returned the sword to Frederick and lowered his head in respect, to which Frederick returned the gesture.

"Three against one appears to be a tad unfair do you not think last of the Krieger?" Lucius said with a grin as Frederick stared at him making Lucius chuckle and shake his head. "Then let us make our deaths good." Prompting a nod from Frederick who gripped his blade with both hands and the two combatants rushed at each other. With a deflection Frederick sliced Lucius' stomach and spun his sword around plunging it into his back right through as both men fell to their knees.

"I shall have you buried in a place of honor Lucius, you shall rest within the walls of your ancestral burial hill great warrior." Frederick told him prompting Lucius to smile a peaceful smile as the bloodshot nature of his eyes faded.

"I thank you for your mercy good king." Was all Lucius could muster before he began coughing up blood. Removing his sword Frederick whirled it around and removed Lucius' head from his shoulders with one swing before he himself leaned heavily on his sword before collapsing to a knee breathing heavily. Whispering thanks to his father and the other who stood alongside him he felt himself falling to the ground.

[Kyrenaia]

The two combatants moved close to each other with Lucius launching the first strike with his mighty ax forcing Frederick to stumble backwards as he had not expected such strength. Attempting to capitalize on this Lucius began whirling his great ax around as if it was a mere twig forcing the patriarch of House Krieger endlessly stumbling backwards until his back was against one of the standing stones, brutally being slammed against it with every blow until the proud king began to fall slowly to the ground finding the ability to stand fleeing him. Gasping for breath and now slumping against the standing stone Frederick could only look up as Lucius laughed planting his ax into the ground before gesturing to the crowd with a grin upon his face.

"Is this the man you wish to lead you folk of Camelone? This man who cowers behind his shield and fails to stand on his own legs? This is no man worthy to rule over the strong folk of Camelone!" Lucius bellowed out soon followed by laughter as Frederick forced himself to his feet leaning heavily on his sword "Ah I see the good king has some fight within his heart still, perhaps this is what the spirits tell me is your strength for it is not your physicality or athleticism." Gripping his ax once more within a blink of an eye Frederick's sword went clattering across the stone and he fell hard, attempting to rise once more Lucius swiftly kicked him in the ribs sending him back to the ground once more and tumbling. Again the king attempted to arise and he was reminded of the feeling of the boot of Lucius coughing up blood as once more Frederick tried to push himself upright. With a frustrated growl Lucius bent down and gripped Frederick by his neck, lifting him up from the ground and holding him high before swiftly slamming him up again a standing stone, all Frederick could do was try and feebly break the grip of the beast that held him. "Tonight is the end of House Krieger!"

All Cameloneans held faces of grim resignation and the silence was only interrupted by the quietest of prayers by the more pious of the group. Tonight it truly did seem that House Krieger would be coming to an end.

"You are nothing proud king. You shall be forgotten bones soon enough with none but the worms to keep you company." Lucius gloated as he dropped Frederick to the ground and walked to grab his ax, lifting it high he brought it rushing down towards Frederick but instead of the ax head embedding itself in the king it found itself stopped by a strong arm holding the wood.

"I am Frederick, son of Ludwig, a mere servant of Christ." Frederick said emotionless as he rose to his feet staring down Lucius with a renewed ferocity before delivering a hard knee to his stomach followed swiftly by a fist across his face sending the Great Heathen stumbling backward without his great ax. Grabbing Frederick's sword Lucius stood armed once more looking at Frederick, who tossed the ax to him. Gripping his ax Lucius returned the sword to Frederick and lowered his head in respect, to which Frederick returned the gesture.

"Three against one appears to be a tad unfair do you not think last of the Krieger?" Lucius said with a grin as Frederick stared at him making Lucius chuckle and shake his head. "Then let us make our deaths good." Prompting a nod from Frederick who gripped his blade with both hands and the two combatants rushed at each other. With a deflection Frederick sliced Lucius' stomach and spun his sword around plunging it into his back right through as both men fell to their knees.

"I shall have you buried in a place of honor Lucius, you shall rest within the walls of your ancestral burial hill great warrior." Frederick told him prompting Lucius to smile a peaceful smile as the bloodshot nature of his eyes faded.

"I thank you for your mercy good king." Was all Lucius could muster before he began coughing up blood. Removing his sword Frederick whirled it around and removed Lucius' head from his shoulders with one swing before he himself leaned heavily on his sword before collapsing to a knee breathing heavily. Whispering thanks to his father and the other who stood alongside him he felt himself falling to the ground.

Useless theatrics., Aurelia thought, as she watched the duel unfold.
Indeed, at first it looked like Camelone would be without a High King for a bit longer, Freddy getting beaten handily by the axeman, but instead of making it short and simple, the idiot had to gloat, squandering his chance of victory.
Something in the back of Aurelia's head began to form theories immediately, amongst them one, which stated, that this all was staged, that this was all a pre-arranged little game, with which Freddy assumed to be able to secure his position in the inner-political sphere by a show of his 'strength' and 'grace', by a given definition of the terms.
Still, Freddy won, Schola lost, but Freddy was, apparently, wounded as well, falling over himself.
As they were unsure about the proceedings and what would come now, the Prince and his daughter did not move. Both were trained in First Aid and basic medical care, but they did not have materials on them, as well as there might be paramedics soon to rush in... or both men would be left lying there in their own puddles of their own blood. Also, maybe this ceremony called for some special appelation to be made before medical aid could be given, thus they would disrupt it by giving said aid, which could have very negative diplomatic implications.
All important concerns, despite the fact, that there were two men currently in their own blood.
Her father bowed down to her, whispering into her ear almost inaudible even to her and in Kyrenaian: "Didn't go as planned, I'd say... well, they'll have to delay the honeymoon." Aurelia nodded in a minimal gesture, which was almost not to be noticed. "Also, you owe me money."
Aurelia hesitated, then nodded in the same minimal way. Payment would come later, in the hotel room.

[The Frozen Forest]

The battle unfolded before the eyes of three Bjorks and a newly minted Krieger. While Freja was certainly worried that her husband could be killed, the eldest Bjork didn't wear even a shred of concern. His eyes were not ones watching a son in law fight for his life and crown, but of a businessman sizing up risk and plotting a means by which a loss could be turned back to profit. Was it obvious that he cared only for his own blood's survival and not their feelings? Was it not the job of an old man to care about his son in law, the man who wed his daughter? He didn't indicate that Frederick meant anything to him as the High King was chased back into the standing stone. Judging by his level of concern, Ari would have expected him to turn around and offer Lucius the hand of a widowed Freja if the Krieger Dynasty was eliminated. Such was the opportunistic nature that had made Alvor such a potent diplomat in his youth.

Ari was growing concerned as Frederick fell into the stones and was weakened considerably. He was not unlike his father, though he had more sympathy for his family, new and old. He leaned forwards to the annoyance of others in the crowd, thoughts racing through his head. If things went badly would they still be welcome in Camelone? He didn't see how since they would no longer have ties, the wedding, all of it would be for nothing. Absolutely a waste of time and effort and they would have to console a grieving princess for months if not years. Not to mention she might refuse to remarry or take years to get over the Camelonean High King. He watched as the fight came to its closing, what could have very easily been the end, end death of Frederick Krieger, King of Camelone.

Ari jumped as Frederick rebounded and took control of the situation with lighting strength and skill. He realized for the first time that despite his own training, he would he killed in a fight with Frederick, it wouldn't be a fair contest. He was reminded of the Viking Settlers that had formed The Frozen Forest over seven-hundred years ago, Frederick would have fit neatly if not for his religion.

Freja continued to watch alongside her brother. The blonde-haired girl gasping as though she had been to the one hitting the standing stone, as Frederick was overtaken by his opponent. Her breath quickened, it was almost uncharacteristic how weak she felt. Her body demanded that she race to her husbands aid, to slit the throat of lucius and end the bloody business of the day. In truth she had neither the skill nor the strength to intervene, her leg feeling like stones, weighing her body to the spot. Lucius brought the ax down and she lost her breath, her heart skipping a beat as Frederick reacted. The Game was up but she felt as though she had been horribly beaten, watching as Frederick punched then sliced and stabbed Lucius.

Life was but a walking shadow, Lucius had strutted and fretted his hour upon the stage and then he was heard no more. It was a tale told by a barbarian, full of sound and fury, yet it signified something. Freja was unfazed as Frederick tore the head of Lucius from his body. Such a bloody spectacle was nothing compared to the prospect of losing him, she was relieved and horrified to find that she was feeling better because a man had died. It was a confusing mess of emotions which only became more complicated as Frederick began to fall to the ground. This time she moved despite any outcry it might have from the crowd. Screw Tradition, Screw Rules.

Her feet carried her but she wouldn't make it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her brother break forth, crossing the distance in a short sprint. Ivan was softhearted, but he wouldn't have put himself out there for anyone but Freja. He understood that a great martial contest had just taken place, a man had been vanquished. He caught Frederick ungraciously, setting the man on the ground just as Freja reached his side and Frederick. He saw something wet in her eyes when he looked over, unsurprising to see that she was crying, though she wouldn't admit it later. Frederick was breathing, that was a relief. He turned to look at the crowd, surely even tradition didn't dictate that they leave him be on the ground?