The Prime Minister nodded sullenly, the offer was well received, if there was any cure out there then Falworth would grasp for it and damn the cost. "I thank you, Gentlemen" he nodded approvingly before taking up a quill and writing something down, upon finishing he scribbled a hasty signature and offered it out to the Akarastle ambassador. "Ensure your esteemed leader receives this, won't you?" he states quietly, before leaning back in his chair and sighing. However just then the doors slammed open to admit a rather brutish looking fellow, adorned in what could only be described as "Rags" even then that's pushing it.
And before he can get out the words "What the hell has happened here?" the hidden guards stationed around the room sprung into action, drawing weapons from seemingly out of nowhere, they circled the latest arrival. "No sir..." spoke Falworth... "I'm afraid I must ask... what are -you- doing here?". A lone rumble of thunder sounded out across the sky, causing the chandelier above to shake.
It had spent many weeks of travelling to get here. Through trackless deserts and clustered forests Abler Chester had rode with his cohort, a unit of armed soldiers. And arriving in this new country was a relief in itself. The dispatch concealed in his waistcoat had - while bearing the brunt of the elemental forces - lasted magnificently. Prime-Minister Falworth had sent them out two months hence, to make contact with such far-eastern nations, and they had achieved this, and was very clear that there was to be, as he termed it "No Dallying, you confounded imbecile." which... from the Prime-Minister was a compliment.
The nation of Vera'Corein had many distinctions, it was a sunny and somewhat green land. Far in distinction from the deserts and forests, even of his own turgid homeland of Arvale, which had made sitting in to shield from the rain a national pass-time. But of course all rides have to come to an end. Abler Chester was a thin man, even that was an understatement, his hooked nose sported upon it a pair of half-moon spectacles, which looked... most out of place in most nations.
The party had already passed through several hamlets and small towns, nothing to warrant too much attention, however, differences were noticed immediately here: While many of the locals gave the newcomers sideways glances, the Arvalians were notoriously pale of skin, their grey eyes roved across the scene taking in everything.
The cohorts' armour was also something of a oddity to the natives, it gleamed brightly in the sun, however was adorned in such ostentatious livery it had been rendered unfeasible to be a capable form of protection. Whereas the Arvalians - having never met these people before - had seen that the natives... where all male - not a single female had been seen among them, even the children, this was of much concern to the Arvalian party, but they didn't voice their opinion to each other, long scouring sands had taught them to keep their mouths shut.
The roads were seemingly endless as the party searched for the most convenient and closest city to present themselves to, and soon their was was granted, a city loomed over the horizon and to the Arvalians was a welcoming sight.... - but then after living in the smog and dingy alley-ways of Averham for most of his life, any city looked friendly, especially when one has lived on the banks of the Aver, a polluted river that run through Averham.
Abler's horse by this point was on the brink of collapse, more-so for the battle-destriers the guards rode, their added weight impractical for the animals, but soon they reached the gates, only to be greeted by the guards, who regarded the strangers cautiously.