Hsir Confederacy
Hsir City - Capital of Hsir Confederacy
Within government building the Speaker was busy at work. The message had gone out about Speaker Angor requesting a meeting. However even with word traveling fast it would take some time to gather everyone required for the meeting. The secretary had informed Angor that it would take at the very least a week to get everyone. In that time the Speaker Angor would look over economic records. While the Hsir Confederacy was still young it had kept extensive records so was a pile of paperwork for Angor to read. Since he couldn't take the records out of the building he would have to stay at a hotel in the capital. The guard assigned to him would escort him each day on his walk from hotel to capital building.

As the week would go by various officials outside the capital would slowly arrive one after another. Most officials had arrived though were a few delays as some trains were delayed by weather. While most of the train network was kept underground when possible there was still a amount above ground where expanding tunnels in a timely manner was unrealistic and thus those tracks were susceptible to snow fall. Thankfully the delay was only a few days. As it came closer to the meeting one of the officials would enter the office of Speaker Angor while he was busy finalizing some notes on records he had read. The official from one of southern regions of Hsir Confederacy and used a cane to walk. He was far older then Angor and had to use a cane to help himself walk.

Official Khor "Speaker, I hope this sudden meeting is warranted."
Speaker Angor "Of course it is, why are you concerned Khor? And you can call be Angor."
Official Khor "Very well Angor. Meetings are scheduled regularly to address issues to arise."
Speaker Angor "I know this but I thought it best to not wait this time."
Official Khor "Patience would do you well. Can you at least tell me why a meeting was so urgent?"
Speaker Angor "I am sorry but I cannot, you have to wait like everyone else."
Official Khor "Bah, very well."

With it clear to Khor that Speaker Angor wouldn't spoil any details of why he had arranged meeting the elderly gentlemen decided to leave the office. The old man was one of the oldest to be elected as a official and so had some sway. He had wanted to test the Speaker, see if he would spill the information. If Speaker Angor had told Khor what the meeting was about he would of used what sway he had to foil what plans Angor had but he admired the strict adherence to protocol. If he had found out about the meeting then Angor would of been in trouble as records could only be looked at one who had withdrawn them to read due to fear of record tampering. As far as Angor was concerned the speaker had just wanted to know the information early. In the coming days would be beginning of the great meeting of all high ranking officials within Hsir Confederacy before Speaker Angor.

=-=Year 444 - 445 Usoma
Arctic Silence=-=

Figures appeared on the arctic tundra, moving slowly across the wasteland in the cool winter air. The large figures were only stopped by the pending misty aura infront of them, a vast ever moving storm unnatural in its appearence which swirled infront of them, and coming to the front was Tubaj Bloodaxe of the group, gripping his axe. The Tusab were covered head to toe in seal skin, patches of fur from various animals making up their cloths. Their destination was beyond the winter vortex, and even the elite backbone of the Bloodaxe tribe feared to venture forward. Tubaj himself was nervous, for he knew full well what was beyond the vortex of winter snow and mists. Pulling their sleds and keeping their weapons tight, the Tusab ventured forth and felt the sudden rush of icy hell upon them.

Tubaj held onto his axe like a staff, guiding himself as the Tusab ventured from cave to cave, ridge to ridge, snow laden fjord to snow laden fjord. The damnable place was not natural by any standard, and temperatures dropped increasingly to a point which even made the Tusab freeze. Few if any creatures called this middle land their home, and only one creature had dared such a thing.

"Chieftain! Look! Wrad!" Yelled a scout, peering beyond the current camps. Tubaj had gotten up from the warm fire to look across the wasteland, noticing the barely visible black figures of the Wrad moving about. Tubaj grunted as the scout held tight to his weapons in fear.

"Calm yourself, fool. They will not attack us."

"My chieftain, how do you know this? They are undead, for all we--"

"If they planned to harm us, they would have done so by now. Now keep your weapon close. We approach Tara'suga soon."

The Tusab worryingly packed their sleds and moved onwards through the increasing winter hellscape, some warriors before even reaching the first signs of the Wrad civilization had simply dropped to their knees and died, their companions leaving them as they shivered and froze. When the Tusab warriors arrived, they saw the massive blackened walls and crumbled spires, countless and huge. Vast was the ruins of middle Usoma, and no creature knew much of its history except the Wrad themselves. As the Tusab grew closer, the ice storm ceased, but warmth did not come. The warriors camped from ruin to ruin, and came across the scattered remains of the Wrad who dwelled in that land, avoiding the Tusab as they camped.

The closer the Tusab came closer to their quarry, the more disheartened they had become. Tubaj and his warriors had gotten lost for a time wandering in the ruins, having to turn back around and hike across a vast bridge just to get to the other side of some massive canyon. When the Tusab had gone by a local settlement of Wrad, seemingly wandering aimlessly on some stone manor which was better preserved then others, the warriors found members of their own kind as revenants, slavishly working away at random and pointless tasks. Tubaj wondered as he witnessed a revenant seemingly 'plowing' some ice ridden field what it all meant. The warriors debated to attack the Tusab and free their brethren of this fate, but Tubaj silenced the group and forcefully marched them onwards.

At long last however, the Tusab were at the gates of Taga’suga. The land of Taga'suga resembled a great stone library, massive in scale compared to all the buildings around, almost like a palace dedicated to some long begotten education crumbled in time. The gates were guarded by Wrad dressed much like medieval knights, but their armor was very silverish and their swords ornate. The Tusab, running low on food and having no other source, decided to attack the settlement from the rear entrence, guarded by armored Revenants. Tubaj and his warriors attacked a side entrance and carried away the revenants after a fierce battle, and ate the frozen corpses, drawing the attention of the necrotic populace.

The next day, the rear entrance was fortified with several more revenants and a Wrad commander, and Tubaj and his warriors again smashed into the city again, but abeit with less success. The revenants were much more easily downed, but the Tusab lost a warrior and the Wrad commander successfully retreated, and injured several other warriors. Tubaj was inside Taga’suga and camped within a long forgotten reading area. The Tusab barricaded the entrances by piling books, but in doing so, they had grievously angered the Wrad inside. The Wrad refused to attack the barricades, but instead picked away at it by collecting the downed books and retreating, followed by armed revenants who kept the Tusab at bay. Skirmishes soon turned into all out fighting, as Tubaj was personally challenged by Taga’suga's horned Herald. A powerful wraith crashed into the camp by jumping from a higher balcony and slammed into the ground, causing a mass of ice and snow to swirl around him. Tubaj and this wraith dueled for some time, but magic got the better of the chieftain and was nearly killed. Only the timely intervention of one of his warriors prevented him from being killed, and Tubaj was soon tearing apart of the ghostly enemy by ripping away his cloak and armor.

Just as Tubaj was about to deliver the killing blow, his massive fist felt a sudden crack of pain, his hand going numb and his began to feel extreme cold. His warriors began to drop to their knees in pain as the Herald got upon it's 'feet' and collected itself. Tubaj turned to a new figure who entered into his barricaded room, a more formal wraith with a silver crown, and who's robes were silver lined. Tubaj tried to go for his axe, but his pain did not cede and he collapsed.

Tubaj awoke hours later, he had opened his eyes to find nothing but darkness. He blinked a few more times and scratched at his face, but he felt weight and a freezing pain upon his arms. Tubaj realized quickly he was in darkness and felt the bindings of his hand, feeling what felt like ice, linked like chain, to some surroundings. He heard faint whispers and a distant whimper as he got up, hearing the shackle of his bondage to realize he was bound by arm, leg, and neck. He peered around the darkened room.

"Call out, how many of you are still alive." He had assumed at least most of his warriors were still alive. Several loud grunts and yelps confirmed he was surrounded by his warriors. Tubaj wandered in this dungeon, waiting and waiting, until he heard a door open. Tubaj peered into the sudden introduction of light and felt more blinded by it then the darkness. A number of Wrad entered the room, and in doing so, Tubaj's freezing shackles began to become much more colder then before. He nearly fell to his knees, barely able to move as the Wrad simply prodded him along with their weapons.

As Tubaj walked up into the library, he noticed how darkly lit the place was. He was annoyed by this, but understood the Wrad in some sense. Being of the most fanatical warrior, he understood undeath and its limitations to some degree, and as he was led to the inner chambers, he began to realize just how foolish he had been. He had assumed the city of Taga’suga was little more then a ruin, a library, a easy victory for him. However, he was shocked to find countless Wrad wandering in the courtyard of some place ruin, much of it being suspiciously rebuilt by a small army of Revenants who worked around the clock to restore the monuments and structure long since abandoned to time. The wraiths had repurposed much of the land it seems, which was unusual, due to the Wrad being religiously conservative. As Tubaj was brought into the main hall of this library palace, he winced at the opening of black doors and was forced to enter a dark room.

Upon entering, he found himself in the darkness, surrounded by the nothingness as the Wrad forced him to kneel. He didn't realize until a glimmer of light had shone through the door being closed that there was a throne in front of him, occupied by the wraith who had appeared at the end his failed skirmish. More strange, the wraith, likely a powerful king of sorts spoke, its voice filling his mind and the room with lonesome horror.

"I admire your zeal, beastfolk, but your bravery is little more then foolish vigor." It began. Tubaj was shocked it spoke his language at all and squinted at the creature.

"Pray tell, what manner of madness brought you to attack my people, injure my slaves, and nearly kill my lords."

Tubaj spat upon the ground in defiance "I answer to no creature but Zuuldrick, fallen thing! My god brought me here to listen, and you dare stand in the way of the gods chosen!"

There was a pause as Tubaj heard the wraith get up and walk forward, coming clearer into his view.

"Barberous and foolish. I am aware of your mission. You know who I am?"

Tubaj looked up, curious but still angry.

"I am Olam'per, King of Julania, Emperor of what you creatures call Usoma. Before you were but servants of your gods, my people walked this world. Now you are here and I have you message for you, but you have also earned my eternal spite." It calmly said

Tubaj listened, but refused to believe it. "You have been called, for the time has come to make this land the home of the gods once again, and you will be my herald upon which shall trumpet my coming."

"I shall play music only for the gods, not your wretched kind!" Tubaj replied. "Kill me or free me, I shall plunder this library ti--"

"You will be silent" The wraith replied, Tubaj paused but began trying to speak again. Only this time, not words came out. He began to scream, but only produced silenced. The wraith came closer, kneeling to him till Tubaj peered into the dark king's cloak. He saw a frozen body of some ancient being, eyeless and dry, inside. It was warped far beyond compare, but it was definitely not beastfolk he had known, it almost looked elvish. Olam'per's hand touched the left side of Tubaj, and again he felt pain in his body. Tendrils of dark blue shot out across his face, covering him. Tubaj continued to scream, but again no words came out. This continued for a time, before long the wraith retracted its hand and stood back up. Tubaj winced, and the guards prepared to bring him back outside. Yet, in a sudden jolt of energy, refusing to be treated in such a manner, Tubaj knocked aside the wraith guards and tackled them. He grabbed one of the guard silver halberds, and attempted to skewer the dark being in front of him.

Instead, Tubaj's heart fell and his face turned to terror and confusion. He tried stabbing forward towards the wraithm but he couldn't. He tried in difficulty to harm the dark king, but his arms stopped him. He realized perhaps a bit late that the torture was not for cruelty's sake. He tried to slam his weapon upon the dark king who only looked him with a emotionless glare from his black hooded form. With a flick of the Olam'per's fingers, Tubaj suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to kneel, and did so. Angry and furious, heated with burning hatred, the Bloodaxe chieftain knelt before the dark king and his frozen shackles began melting away.
_______________________________________

Usoman politics could be very brutal if not handled correctly, but this wasn't exactly on the mind of those in the city of Ghustbov. Ghustbov was the southern most city near Greater Talania and its overseer was always deeply worried. Not by the aggressive policies of the southern most neighbor, but by groups of wandering Okan around the city. The Okan, while a slave race under Usoman law, held a much more comfortable position then even the Kevian second class. Race tensions between Kevians and Neusians in Ghustbov reached a boiling point when a Neusian teenager who had strong connections with the local militia had accidentally killed a Kevian boy in a brawling accident at the local pub. The incident had caused tensions to boil over, but the Okan seemed utterly fine with this since it was very obvious they were profiting off the situation.

Being small and simple slaves, along with being annoying pacifists in their politics, Okan were not above smuggling weapons and helping the sale of weapons. Kevian and Neusians bought weapons in bulk from weapon smiths in other cities, and used Okan to distribute them since they were so close. The overseer knew the Okan had secret markets across the city, and he cracked down with no success in breaking them. He didn't wish to challenge the social and economic hierarchy of Usoma, but neither could he avoid a full blown riot. The Okan, being dispersed across the city's sectors in good housing, could quite easily make their sales and hide their caches. Having had enough of this foolishness, the overseer dedicated a segregation policy was needed to clean up the black markets.

The Okan were placed into camps outside the city and placed under heavy guard, but a couple Neusian militia used this recent event for their own selfish ends. A Militia commander of the city put in charge of the Okan placed huge ration token taxes on the slaves just to have the 'privilege' of living in their own tents rather then sanctioned (and much more warmer and insulated) homes of humans they were assigned to. Complaints ran high, and the Militia commanders demanded more and more of the Okan. Eventually, the Ghustbov overseer heard the pleas and tried to replace the commander, but the complaints only grew, as the new commander was 'shipped off and swiftly replaced' by the previous commander. The Militia commander soon held the Okan ransom, demanding higher rations and smaller schedules, or the Okan would face brutality. The Overseer, pressured by angry fisher guilds, agreed.

However, the troubles in Ghustbov has created a unstable environment for spies and agents to make their home, including amongst the corrupt militia commander Yolban Hue who organized the operation. Personal animosity between the militia and the overseer only grew further, when the Okan returned to their holding malnourished, tortured, and sick, inadvertently spreading disease into the city and the race were again placed into quarantine. Okan, demanding vengeance, refused to fish for the Militia and actively stepped up their support for the Kevians. Tensions runs high in the city, with only bloodshed seemingly what is ahead unless something is actively done.

---

---

Fenizia, the radiant capital of the Fenician Dominion. Built on the ishtmus connecting Falcola and Albator. It's a maritime megalopolis where waterway transport through intricate channels is considered a regular form to commute. As a maritime trade and overall economical powerhouse Fenizia is the thriving place. Skyscrapers and similar giants are a rare sight, though. Most places lack solid foundation, restricting buildings to light construction. As a consequence population density is relatively low, mostly offering homes for the rich and influential. In contrast Fenizia has twelve "slum cities" right at their borders, offering homes for workers, secondary docks and of course the warehouse space for storing goods. Not including them would be unfair thus the so-called "Greater Fenizia" has the total population exceeding 10 million. A galaxy of shining stars during the night, the city of Fenizia often felt like a gigantic lighthouse for sailors. Yet today the radiant capital is covered in near complete darkness.

Fenizia was far from empty, not yet anyways. While the eruption of Monte Vesvia lead to the rapid evacuation of the entire Falcola Island it was determined that the capital situated at a safe enough distance. Being the commercial and economical keystone of the entire Dominion the city could not stop either way. Normally Fenizia would shine in the radiant light of millions of solarite bulbs yet at the present time such feat is beyond them. Unlike electric lightbulb, solarite based light works through re-emitting the sunrays absorbed during the day. With dense volcanic ash covering the skies solarite bulbs are practically useless, only a limited number of them are maintained through alternative means like direct mana transfer. It's been exactly a month since the catastrophe. Thousands of miners died within an instant, entire settlements flooded in lava. Without the slightest warning Vesvius blew its mountaintop into the stratosphere. Thanks to its odd vertical pattern the collateral damage was minimal yet the gigantic mountain threatens the entirety of Falcola. Furthermore the explosion sent many million tons of dust and volcanic rubble into the high atmosphere, throwing a literal shade over the glorious Sunrealm. Experts say the dust should eventually disperse, slightly weakening its effect yet also covering most of the globe. If it's true this might effect not just Fenice but the entire world. Fenizia was considered a frail city made secure through the naval superiority of Fenice. It would not fall to any invasion. Yet it appears the city might just fold under nature's might.

---

Like a sole star in the vastness of dark space, the royal estate of Albaminissare shines brilliantly, defying all odds. Several tons of magic crystals are consumed for a singular event, a statement of the royalty's excess. Yet today's occasion is a bit special. Instead of the standard niceties the Imperator called upon the royal family to discuss a grave emergency. The crisis of Vesvius' eruption provides a yet unparalleled challenge to Fenice. Depopulating Falcola and persistent night over the homeland obviously hit the economy, changing the value of lands dramatically. Aristocrafts and royalty alike have their very lifeblood put in these lands and as such the catastrophe is risking their financial security. In order to remedy this the Imperator plans to reshuffle holdings and reaffirm the status quo. Discussing frivolities like the fate of commoners is something better left to the Parliament, that's what they're for.

Leonello IX Fontana di Alberinis, reigning Imperator of the Fenician Dominion oversaw this celebration from a distance, sitting solemnly on the throne. A hero for many people, his rule brought forth a golden age of Fenice with territorial expanse unlike any before. Being in his 80s, his magical affliction began to show and his bones creaked with pain and an uncomfortable chill. Rumors say he could barely stand for an hour and even taking a short lap around the palace could drain his stamina. That was his official excuse. In truth he felt no connection to his own lineage anymore. Greedy nobles and spoiled heirs, that's all he saw beneath him. Using the lure of re-allocating mainland ownership he had hoped to gather the once mighty elite of Fenice to discuss grave times. This past month had been the worst of his life. He was an ambitious leader, proud emperor and pious Dionist. All three were squashed by the eruption of Vesvius. Seeing his efforts crumbling by a literal act of God shook his entire existence. It broke him. For all he knew God may had forsaken this entire world. It might not happen today, not even in ten years. In all likelihood he'd die before this divine punishment is fulfilled. He may had officially gathered these people to reassign lands and riches. In reality he was desperately looking for a successor, somebody to lead his people through these desperate times. For this purpose he planted agents everywhere in the palace, acting like his eyes and ears. Nothing. This charade has been going on for all day yet he found nobody to inherit his will. The former giant who carried the entire Dominion on his shoulders realized the harsh truth. In his anguish he silently recited a plea for God.



His prayers seemingly answered the entire palace shook. The sky lit up as Monte Vesvia erupted for a second time. No, calling it an eruption would be inaccurate, it was an explosion. The gigantic mountain held back overwhelming pressure until it reached critical phase and monumental mass of rocks transformed into a pillar of orange fire. That was just the beginning. Masked by the perpetual darkness a wave of rocks and volcanic ash swept over the area, not just the capital but almost the entire mainland of Fenice if not beyond. Unlike the previous eruption this wave propagated horizontally at a more modest velocity. Royalty and the remaining citizens of Fenizia cried in panic yet they barely had a chance. A particular spike of ejecta headed right in their direction, destroying almost all in its path. That was the last day of Fenicia and the day when 80% of mainland Fenice transformed into a realm of ash.

---

Albator, Trieste
on route to the Paesedione region
~ 47 hours after the Catastrophe

Endless seas of grey snow. Ashen ruins. Desolated plains. Yet when observed from bird's view one could see a tiny convoy escorted by 8 riders spewing up dust in the distance. Many would doubt their eyes over the unusual sight yet they'd be outright maddened to hear this rundown and shoddy looking vehicle is transporting royalty. Being in the last month of her pregnancy, Princess Celeste Dietto di Alberinis remained in her mansion in Arizia when the volcano had erupted for a second time. Though only hit by rock showers and a seemingly neverending cloud of ash, such environment was unfit for a frail pregnant woman. Grabbing a military halftrack and a small entourage of knights from the Phoenix Order they chose to undertake the risky journey for the health of both mother and the child. This small yet elite team was lead by Vettorio da Vigo Contarini, grandmaster of the Phoenix Knights. How such a prestigious person ended up leading such a small band during grave times is a long story but mostly can be explained by unique circumstances. Vettorio would normally be attending the royal meeting in Fenizia yet excused for personal matters, namely the birth of his daughter. Unfortunately, her wife Isabetta caught a strange affliction related to unrefined solarite and currently she's fighting for her life. With their home situated in Arizia he wanted to do something to draw his attention away. And now they're on the run with two pregnant women. The situation is grave and if telegraph messages were to be beleived, it's far worse than anyone could imagine. Almost the entirety of Fenice is under volcanic ash save for a relatively small portion situated southeast, often referred as Paesedione due to the proximity of the Dionist holy land and the sacred city of Torredios.

The landscape underwent a dramatic change since the last two days and there's no guarantee they could navigate safely to the south. Yet they must, this environment is poisonous and while ordinarily the sun elves were tough enough to survive, they couldn't risk the health of the Princess. Isabetta also needed medical attention and unfortunately the only solution was to travel southward and at least reach the nearest city in Paesedione untouched by this blight. Vettorio could bet it was either Armas or Ostias. On their way, they met numerous refugees who likely had a similar idea to them. Vettorio and his men occasionally requested goods and supplies albeit most often the refugee caravans were stringently packed just as them. By Vettorio's calculations it'd take another day to escape the ashen wastes and his men were exhausted. He ordered them to set up camps and rest. Yet he could've never imagined what happened next.

They woke up to shrieking and thundering noises. Rockets. The impacts were random and inaccurate, meaning whoever was using them either lacked skill or used them from extreme distances, or both. The rattling noise of water cooled machineguns and constant rifle fire could be heard. "Signore Vettorio, it's an ambush!" Shouted one of his paiges. The experienced knight leader tried to supress his shock before turning towards the youth. "Calm down and raise the alarm! Run to the servants and tell them prepare to move!" Only a few words, no encouraging speeches. Nothing to add, just telling him what to do. The enemy were surely inexperienced, unlikely to be regular soldiers. Yet they owned rocket projectors that had yet to be adopted by even the military. Vettorio wished to know more but for the time being he was preoccupied with assessing the situation. His troops of elite knights were already engaging in combat, their experience and skills allowing them to act prior to any orders. That was fine, mere rabble shouldn't even faze the bests of the Fenice. Numbers don't mean anything if they lack discipline and proper direction. On the other hand something just felt off and he didn't like this one bit.

Without a second thought Vettorio ran towards the medical tent. The close noises of gunshots unfortunately confirmed his fears. Without even confirming who's inside the knight leader weaved a wind spell in a hurry, literally blowing the assailant away. With the assassination foiled the figure in back faded into the shadows, unwilling to challenge the seasoned veteran in a single combat. Or just fearing his identity might be discovered? Whoever planned this intended to keep everything under wraps. Vettorio of course had no luxury to linger because one of the servants got grievously wounded. His name was Bonaccorso Albergati. His vigilance, bravery and ultimately sacrifice saved the princess who might be now considered candidate to become the Imperatrix. Listening to his final words the servant Bonaccorso passed away in contentment, immortalized by his deed. Vettorio felt almost envious yet he understood there's something far greater for him to do. Meanwhile the Phoenix Knights were busy halting the enemy forces. They bad no time to waste as the servants resumed the preparations for their escape...

They were no longer safe. Hunted by an unknown group and isolated from the rest of the Order or even the military, Vettorio had to avoid more predictable routes and lose yet another day for it. He originally intended to treat Princess Celeste and his wife at one of the more prestigious hospitals in a big city but the threat of assassins made this impossible on the short term. Yet the clock was tickling and they had to risk a backwater clinic with barely two rooms. On that day two lives were saved and the face of the Dominion irrevocably changed.

---

The tenth anniversary of the Catastrophe is approaching. Preparations are long underway but currently regent lord Vettorio Da Vigo Contarini spends his well-deserved rest at his personal estate. In spite of effectively becoming the ruler of Fenice the regent's residence is hardly out of the ordinary by the standards of nobility. If anything his preferences may even seem simple or puritan in nature but that came with cultural shift. The glory days of the Dominion are over yet the country still exists. 80% of the mainland are uninhabitable ashlands while the rest struggle with massive overpopulation. Industry consolidated yet their current output is merely 30% of what it's used to be before. Emigration is still an issue, even if the country is no longer bleeding its loyal subjects by the millions. Yet they still hinge on. In spite of all expectations Fenice is far from finished. And thanks to a borderline miracle the last member of the royal family survived. Registered as Bonaccorso Dietto de Alberinis, the youth is less than 10 years old, nearly a decade away from becoming a proper adult. In his stead rules Vettorio Da Vigo Contarini, grandmaster of the Phoenix Order, witness of Princess Celeste's death and last will and practically one of the most powerful aristocrats left after the volcanic disaster. Being a true military man it's a miracle he could adopt to the life of politics.

But matters of the country currently enjoy the backseat as Vettorio spends his free time catching up with his favorite books. This pastime is interrupted by the calm and measured steps of one of the housemaids. Even though she's out in the corridors and at least 30 paces away Vettorio possesses ears and senses honed by decades of training. The next minute is spent by regent guessing exactly which refined lady's steps he's listening to. Turns out to be Stella, a young maiden and one of the more recent hires. She's still learning the ropes and this inexperience shows in the uneven steps she makes. "Stella, come in." Vettorio exclaimed before she even had an opportunity to knock. "Lord Contarini, your daughter Celeste's practice is about to start." "Thank you Stella, I would never miss it." Vettorio said as he jumped off his seat, letting Stella escort him to the courtyard.

N’zwasis, Saraya

A lone truck climbed a hill on a jungled two-lane concrete road. Its engine whirred and struggled, belching fumes from its tailpipe before a series of dull clunks indicated a gear change below the hood. It ran a little bit smoother now, but it still struggled up the steepness of the slope. The truck’s vibrancy stood in contrast to the dark shadows of the jungle. Rays of sunlight poking through the canopy illuminated the truck’s decorative art. A mural of a lion lounging atop a mesa-like flat hill adorned the rear doors of the cargo container. A landscape image on the side depicted the Battle of Osoika, where fighters from the rebelling Indaran tribe were routed by a noble, yet rebelliously independent, Padvian prince to end years of internal fighting in central Saraya. The other side of the container maintained a patterned, almost abstract depiction of a marketplace. Elaborate, bright bordering framed the art, featuring traditional patterns and zig-zags of the northeast. Pendants, chains, and beads all hung from the bumper, clacking against it as it drove.

Inside, the smell of cigarettes seemed to have been permanently taken hold in the worn leather of the bench seat. An AM radio, garbled with static, played a melodious tune. As the truck reached the top of the hill, the radio cleared up, but the signal was soon lost as the road wandered down towards the base again. The driver, a man of about fifty, referenced a folded-up map beside him in a neat olive-green map case that looked almost like military surplus. This was the last hill before the jungle thinned out and the suburban townships of N’zwasis crept into frame. He did a last-second check in the glovebox to make sure that he had his papers: an identification card, his trucking company registration, a cargo manifest, and his schedule. Armed police units conducting checkpoints were usually the case in the northern provinces, where bandits thought that they could evade the government, but lately threats from Istian border militias seemed to be front-page in all the regional newspapers.

Soon enough, as he approached the wooden and corrugated-metal box houses of an N’zwasis farming township, he saw a checkpoint guardbox along with several signs warning drivers to stop their vehicles for inspection. Two men in police blue uniforms stood at the road, orange sashes draped across their torsos and wearing wide-brimmed slouch hats. One carried a bolt-action carbine, standing back to the rear, while another wore a revolver around his hip: this one waved the driver down with one hand while he readied a clipboard in the other. The truck rolled to a stop on the road, pulling off to the packed-dirt inspection lot on the side of the road before turning off the engine.

The guard with the clipboard greeted the driver at his door. “Thanks for stopping,” he said. “Welcome to N’zwasis… Have you traveled this road before?”

The driver nodded. “I make the Voi-N’zwasis run quite frequently. This checkpoint is a new one, though.”

“It is, we just sprang this one up on Saturday. Governor’s orders.” The guard tapped his pen on the clipboard, which bore a typewritten memo and checklist for the inspection. The driver caught a glimpse of it, reading off that they were to do a quick sweep for guns and bombs in the cargo bed or trunk. He raised an eyebrow but handed over the manilla folder with his documents when the guard asked. His partner relaxed as the driver appeared compliant with the inspection. His grip on the rifle loosened and his shoulders dropped. He looked around again, breaking his intense eye contact with the truck.

“I suppose I should declare that I have a weapon then,” the driver said calmly. The guard’s eyes widened in curiosity. He ordered the driver to take it out slowly. He returned from the cabin with a sawed-off double-barrel, lever-action shotgun from the late 19th century that he kept underneath the dashboard and handed it down to the guard. Duly, the guard looked it over: it wasn’t an unusual weapon for truckers to have, especially in the northern jungles. He set it down on the ground, careful to lay it in a way that didn’t get dust in the action or barrel.

“A classic,” he mused as he inspected it. “My grandfather had the same model. He used it to keep the panthers off our coffee farm.”

The guard reviewed the driver’s license and information. Everything checked out: Azmat Sadari, aged thirty-nine, who had black hair and green eyes, appeared to stand the printed 1.74 meters tall with a noticeable beer belly bringing his weight to eighty kilograms. The guard nodded and reviewed the cargo manifest: consumer goods for a furniture outlet. Mostly disassembled wooden furniture components and screws, nuts, and bolts. He swung open the rear of the truck and was satisfied by the heaps of wooden tabletops and chair legs he saw inside. A sweep revealed no obvious traps or bombs. The guard scribbled off on his checklist as the driver waited, leaning against the hood of his truck smoking a cigarette.

“Looks like you’re good to go,” the guard said, stamping an approval on Azmat’s sheet before handing it back to him. “One last thing, however.”

The driver raised his eyebrow as he tossed the manilla folder up into his cab and retrieved the shotgun from the ground.

“The Governor has instituted a toll to help pay for the increased security measures. It’s forty tala per commercial vehicle.”

Again, Azmat appeared confused. He had never heard of a security toll before. He was no politician or military man, but that appeared to be something that the Kassaji government tried to control more tightly than the Padvians used to. The headlines said something about consolidating military budgeting and centralizing control over these things, and Azmat wasn’t sure if they were provincial police or regional militias. Their hair, dreadlocks pinned back into coiled buns behind their heads, looked very traditional, and elaborate tattoos peeked out from underneath the rolled sleeves of their blue uniforms. They had no familiar insignia like the Highway Patrolmen did.

He mulled if this was a fight he wanted to wage. He could easily ask them for the government order, or ask to pay a licensed treasurer. Handing cash over to a beat cop seemed unreliable at best. But at the end of the day, he could just grease the wheels and get it done with. While his company gave him money under the table to handle situations like bribes or even small ransoms for the average highwayman, he always just pocketed the extra money. The guard awaited his answer, looking him down in a way that, while he wasn’t posturing, looked like he could threaten Azmat if he wanted to. So Azmat reached into his pocket, opened up his wallet, and handed over four of the ten tala bills.

“Thank you,” the guard said, taking the money and stuffing it in his uniform breast pocket. “And nice truck, by the way. I like the art. Where’d you get it done?”

The driver told him about the auto shop he worked for in Voi, that a portion of his salary paid for some of the traditional decorations. Satisfied by the security measures in place at the checkpoint, the guard waved Azmat back into his truck and let his partner step aside. As the diesel engine thrummed back to life, he shifted gears and went along his way. A few kilometers later, he was heading into the outskirts of town. N’zwasis had an inner-city portion clustered around ancient temples and ruins that were once the castle of a noble tribal family. A ring of taller buildings surrounded it before the density dropped off and junctions of factories, warehouses, truck stops, and railway yards brushed up against the jungle. Azmat found his destination, the furniture store, and pulled into a warehouse parking lot in the back.

The owner greeted Azmat, gladly handed him a bill of sale and payment, and asked his help moving the goods out of the truck. Duly, Azmat accepted, and they spent the next hour moving the pieces of furniture into his storage unit with the help of a pair of teenaged laborers. He backed out at the completion of this, parked his truck by the entrance of the lot, locked up the doors for the night, and went on to find his way into the city. His hotel and maybe a beer or two to alleviate the hot and humid air of the jungle awaited him.

It was a windy morning in the port city of Vaisung. Many consider the city to be Ocreau’s gateway to the Verronto sea, which made it a hub for trade within the nation. Vaisung is the the largest city in the division of Mar, and was once the seat of power of an alliance of city states. Now it is the 4th largest city in all of Ocreau and home to a thriving trading industry. The residents here still remember the power their city once held, and some wish that their city had more impact on the politics of the nation.

A vessel belonging to one of these companies was docked in the harbour. Crates of Ocrese pepper and other spices were loaded, one by one, onto the back of the ship while the captain on the vessel supervised. One of the crew approached the captain, asking them to review the plotted course.

Captain Sari Coste, like many in her trade, was not happy about the recent suggestions by the Ocrese government. The extra distance they would have the travel would cost them both time and money. However, the concerns around the violence between Acrad and Hastur were understandable. Everyone knew that Ocreau wanted no part of that war.

The detour would add an extra 3 days to their journey to Lieria, one of the Verronto Confederation states. The captain approved the new course as the last crate was loaded onto the ship. They would leave in a few hours.

---

Concerns about trade disruption still echoed throughout the Ocrese government. The People’s House debated how best to minimise the impacts of the Acrad-Hasturian war. But, the major issue stopping any consensus from forming was the unknowns surrounding what Acrad intended to do.

“Perhaps then, we should contact Acrad about whether or not they intend to battle in the Verronto Sea?” said a member from the Druidic party, a minor party concerned with magic rights.

The suggestion was backed by the Democratic Unionist Party and their allies in coalition, the Labour Party. The People’s House called upon the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to draft a letter to the government of Acrad.

@Roby6Com


The letter was passed onto the Legislative Council where, after a few minor alterations and some extensive consultation with a translator, it was signed by Governor General Ira and handed off to a waiting diplomat to be sent to the nation of Acrad.

---

“... this morning the government sent a message to Acrad asking what its intentions are about the Verronto Sea. The uncertainty surrounding this issue has caused many trading companies to suffer losses in the stock market” said the familiar voice of the radio announcer

“We interviewed some of those affected by the latest recommendations by the government. One trading ship captain said, ‘I understand the danger, but the alterations to our route will delay the delivery by up to three days’.”

“A separatist group in Mar have protested the recommendations. More to come…”

Buunbergh, Anglonia, UKAE

The capitol building was on fire.

Like a great candle, larger than life, its embers licking the heavens themselves.

People streamed out of the structure, pouring out of every crevice. From afar, they were insects fleeing from a crushed anthill. Up close, the screams of unspeakable, unbelievable horror were heard. So many coworkers entrapped in what was for many an inescapable blaze, the rest left only to wonder if there was anything they could have done, and what they did to deserve such a wretched thing.

The people fanned out, fleeing each and every way, as long as it was away from the terror of the flames. But a thunderous roar of hooves and boots soon appeared to combat the lessening screams.

The fire brigade arrived, but few of them moved a muscle to save the building. They looked each other in the eyes, trying to calculate their opponents resolve. Instead of flying the standard UKAE Fire Brigade banner, some of them flew different flags and wore different symbols. They had all arrived to ensure that their faction's agenda with the fire was secured, no matter what.

Free Santeyla Collective: A growing underground faction, formed by the uniting of most of the UKAE's socialists. They want to tear any semblance of the current government down, and have surprisingly agreed to fight for syndicalism, it being one of the most different and 'practical' ideologies. They later claim that they set the fire, and that only those physically and mentally working in the core of the government and devoted to continuing the fail state called the UKAE died, and that they needed to stoke the fires of revolution. Their first bold move, the start of their emergence into the public.

Great Lakhher Khanate: A massively popular nationalist organization, it has a hand in much of the UKAE, not just indirectly like some mafia, but physically as well. They gained traction startlingly fast, much faster than Santeyla, and spiraled into becoming a beast of a faction. Members in government, in federal jobs, in factories. Increasingly vocal, increasingly nationalist for something that predates and essentially spits in the face of the medieval-formed Anglonia and Eirein, it has only been a matter of time before they grew out of control, a time that has already begun. They also claim to have started the fire, in order to purge what cements the concept of Anglonia, and to replace it with the superior Khanate.

United Kingdom of Gloutannia: The official solution to the temporary nature of the UKAE, the UKG advocates the creation of a united identity while preserving Anglonia and Eirein as sub-nations. The Anglonian royal line would continue, but its power would be halved, the rest going to a parliament that would have members from various parts of the Kingdom. The main problem people have with this as it as seen as a solution that is too little, too late, and petty arguments that too much power is given to or taken away from royalty. They claim to have tried to put out the fire.

However, these claims come later.

Now the factions fight.

The pseudo-fire brigade shatters, pistols emerge from pockets, rifles materialize out of the sheathe of night, and all hell breaks lose. The delirious neighing of horses and warcries of men slice through the darkness, moonlight and gunshots lighting up the scene. People are trampled, torn asunder, blood and guts, sorrows and angers, all bleed out on the grass and the concrete. Their steeds face the same fate lest they flee from their masters into the freedom of the night.

By the end of it, the two dozen brigade members end up either hospitalized or dead.

The rage of the flame continues far into the night, put out by no one, it extinguishes itself.

The capitol building was on fire, and now it is but a smoldering husk.

Though the UKAE continues, it drags itself forward with a single limb, the other three rebelling against itself. It is crawling towards its deathbed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Note: No civil war has started, there was the fire in the capitol and the ineffectiveness of the government to put it out.)

"My liege."

"Yes, Prime Minister?"

"We must establish ourselves now, before the other factions-"

"I know, but that is no longer entirely under my control."

"My liege, you are still king of the nation, and the parliament would like you to announce the regaining of order in the kingdom to establish trust in the king. They will make a separate announcement confirming their agreement of this move to satisfy those desperate for a balance of power."

"Very well, I shall use the speech Prepared for this circumstance," The king stood up with the help of an ornate staff of wood, gold, and jewels.

"Rule Gloutannia."

"Rule Gloutannia."

---

"Must we guard this old shell?"

"Everything has to be 'perfect' for the king of 'Gloutannia'."

"I hear you. I'm all for it of course, but I have to question the memorial for... for the fail state that we're trying to forget."

"But the 'great' king has to make his big speech right here."

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. Sarcasm. But how's he supposed to unite everyone when he's celebrating the building that no one wanted, eh? Isn't the new government supposed to be the one to tear it down once and for all."

A motor could be heard buzzing towards the eerie silence of the memorial site.

"Hey, you hear that?"

"Yeah, Mr. Sarcasm, it's the sound of trouble or whatever, I get it."

"No, I'm serious, look!

A lone fighter raced across the sky, dropping pamphlets at intervals. Once it had passed, the guards looked for a few to pick up.

"The Khanate... Reborn... a lot of this is scratched out."

"Flip it over."

"All ye oppressed, Anglonians and Eireinians, laborers of the factory and the fields, heed our call..." He opened the pamphlet only to see more scribbled out propaganda replaced by opposing text.

"Damn, it's getting more and more out of hand."

"You could say that again."

As if on cue, the Santeyla fighter, barely recognizable as a plane in the distnce, erupted in a burst of flame. It spiraled downwards, aiming towards its Lakhher attackers.

The guards did not know for sure yet, but they had just witnessed the first blows of the Civil War.

---

A message appeared on a scout's talisman soon after his mission-Kowalski, analysis

Lakhher, Santeyla are defectors. Gaining members via royal military and police. Some civs involved. Some PAC and fighter squadrons currently engaged. No royal forces currently engaged.

We will change that. Return to base.

Affirmative. Glory to Gloutannia.

The scout rode off toward his destiny.

---

Securing their strongholds near the main river and mountains, slowly releasing their armies to skirmish in the towns and the fields, the nationalists, syndicalists, and new royalists would spread their pleas for foreign help in securing their respective vixtories across the globe.

"Help us bring stability to our people," They said, as the blood was only just starting to be spilled.

[The southern lands of the Volsinii Empire]
[Yelnas]
[Centurion Sidonius, 5th Maniple, 12th Celeia legion]

For the men of the 5th Maniple it thankfully stopped raining a few hours early as the legionaries enter the outskirts of the town in the early morning light. Along with a paved road that made it easier for the convoy to reach their detestation. It was midday when the unit finally enter the town. Mud caked and exhausted as his unit dragged them into to the camp. As Sidonius was about the enter the command tent a familiar voice call his attention.

"You look like shit Sidonius," the Centurion turn to seethe grinning face of the orc Centurion. Leaning on one of the sign posts was the Centurion Durgash commander of the 12th assault Maniple.

“Blame it on those Virmar be damned knife-ears and that fucking mud.” Sidonius groaned to his fellow Centurion. Durgrash stood up and sauntering over to Sidonius.

“I have my marching orders I am taking my men west. To clear a supposed stronghold over there. Try to stay alive Sidonius.” With that the orc left Sidonius alone in front of the Legion Legate tent.

===========================================================================================================================================

The centurion Sidonius ducked as he enters the tent and came face to face with the Legion Legate Decius Aper. And aged man of about 65-year veteran of the imperial civil wars. Was sitting behind his field desk reading reports not even looked up at Sidonius.

“Why was your convoy delayed by three days Sidonius?” the Legate asked.

“My convoy was waylaid by severe rain and elven rebel raids.” Sidonius explain to the Legion Legate. Aper took his eyes off the report and fixed on the centurion. Examining Sidonius for any signs of to doubt in the younger officer body langue.

“Very well centurion. I have a new directive from high command. Once your men have rested and showered you will lead them into town and moves all elves into detention camps. They forfeit anything over thirty marks.” the legate explains to Sidonius.

“Once the elven population is moved to the camps. You well repeated the process over the next several towns. If they refuse they are to be treated as rebels. Dismiss.” Sidonius fire off a salute and left the Legion Legate tent to find the shower.

Once the men of the 5th Maniple was rest and recovered from their journey to Yelnas move into town. From there the legionaries went street to street elves that were found were forcible evicted from there properties. With only the cloths that they were able to quickly pack before they were shoved out the door by imperial legionaries. Everything else was confiscated by the imperial army. The evicted elves are sent on the road towards the small city of Colasa several miles to the north to be shipped out to the detention camps.

=============================================================================================================================================

For the people of the royalists faction within United Kingdoms there pleas were heard by the Volsinii empire. Emperor Messor was eager to maintain the status quo of the world sent them weaponry and ammo. At the same time Messor was organizing a group of volunteers to go aid the royalists faction in the fighting.

1931 Location Unknown
The sound of guns shooting far away could be heard in the streets of a city with dozens of bodies spread across the streets of a city, more than half of the dead bodies spread in the streets are from elves and with ashes falling from the skies the elf standing in the field looked up and said “This is how far we went?” watching the ashes falling from the sky he then began to hear a loud noise of a train and words saying “Sir sir are you awake?”

Imperial Capital 1937
He then raised from his bed in a train looking to his right seeing a man in a suit he said “Ah… what is it, we arrived?” the man smiled and bowed in respect saying “Yes Mr Pablo we arrived in the Capital” Pablo straighten his suit and hair raised from his bed and said “Is good to be back at Castello” he picked his overcoat and left the train saying to the man “Take my things and put them in my house understood” The man bowed and said “Yes sir... Also, my lord, your car is waiting down stairs”

Pablo would smile saying “Good” and exited the train in the early hours of the night he could see the lights of Castello the sun not more shined on the silver eagle that sited on top of the Grand Palace of the white rose that stood above all the city biggest building standing in 330 meters in height Pablo walked through the station that was emptied due to the presence of a council member as he walked down the stairs he saw one S.I.A soldier with a shield insignia made of metal attached to his uniform and a normal soldier that was utilizing a police uniform but was using in his arm a Bandana with red flower both men seeing him saluted he then hailed back the two men escorted him to his car.

As he got near his car he saw S.I.A and M.P soldiers blocking the road with people on the other side of then his driver opened the backdoor of the car Pablo get inside the car the driver then closed the door and goes around the car and when he entered and closed the door he said “Is good to see you again sir” Pablo smiled and said “Missed me, Igor?” the driver smiled and said “A little bit sir” he then began to drive to drive towards the palace with M.P escort as he passed through the city looking into the buildings seeing the Imperial flag displayed almost in every building as the car slowed down for a little time due to traffic he looked to his left seeing a government propaganda billboard with Bjergavjern and Helareu charging against Oswaria
Pablo looking at that was breathed in and out with a taste of disgust Igor noticing that said “Something wrong sir” Pablo looking at Igor through the rearview mirror said “There is no honor in propaganda, made to criminalize the innocent” Igor looked to the left and saw the billboard before it disappeared he then said “Well it's normal to find propaganda degrading the fascists” Pablo nodded and said “The Volkists are the least of my worries” the car drove in the streets for a while until he arrived in the Palace in the stairs it was awaiting a man as he exited the car the man walked down the stairs and said “My sir how was the visiting to the state of Mazonia.”

Pablo would smile and say “Well for a previous state that once raided all of its neighbors it wasn't that bad” the man smiled and said “The ministry is awaiting you sir also it appears that High Marshall Douglas seeks to talk with you” Pablo walked passed the man and said “Well job never ends especially for me” the man then walked next to him and said “Well your position truly gives you great responsibilities” Pablo looked at him and said “And also great threats” when climbing the stairs they passed through two giant statues of marble one being a lion and the other of a dragon and entering through the entrance marked by pillars holding the main entrance with some government man entering and exiting the building.

Inside the Palace they entered a elevator that is near the entrance taking them to their floor after walking a few minutes they opened door to the strategic committee office of the army encompassing navy, air force and land armies Pablo then said “How goes things while I was inspecting the divisions stationed at the border of Yerun?” as he said that the man walked beside him as Pablo walked to his office “Well nothing new just the average routine of training, planning and preparations the few abnormalities is the recent call from Marshall Douglas and well some small problems with S.I.A soldiers” as he walked to his private office a woman stepped near him but Pablo continued walking as she followed him saying “Ah sir I would like to inform you that...” Pablo interrupted her continuing to walk to his room “Don't need to worry I know about Marshal Douglas calling me just give me the number and I call it” The lady shaken her head negating the order saying “No sir is not about him by the way he said that he would call you but the real problem is…”

As he opened the door he saw a man in his young adult age with silver colored hair and wearing a suit with a necktie with a iron flower attached to it also holding a glass of wine the man then said “Lord Pablo Gutiérrez has been a long time how was your trip” Pablo would widen his eyes and say “Prince Nicolas what is the occasion for this unexpected visit” he turned around and closed the door saying to both who were following him “Give me a minute” Pablo turned around to see Nicolas he approached him and Nicolas said “Wine?” he extended his glass of wine to Pablo he waved his hand saying “No thank you” Nicolas then said “Shame I brought a bottle in case you wanted” the phone in the room so begun to ring next to the table.

Nicolas looked at the phone pointed at him and said “These phone ringed at least 2 times since i was here” Pablo bowed down and said with a noticeable tone of bitterness in his voice “If you excuse me my lord” he raised and walked towards the phone as he picked it up he heard the voice of High marshal Douglas saying “About goddamn time I need to say something to you is utter emergency here” Pablo only thinking in the current situation thought for a second and said back “Give me a minute friend I am with the prince right now so, I will call back in ten minutes” as he finished saying that he heard Douglas saying with a tone of anger “No wait this is serious...” before putting the phone back in place and blocking the phone.

Pablo dragged the chair from his desk sited on it and said “So what you want?” Nicolas took a sip of his wine and said “I need advice on two matters of importance for me” Pablo crossed his arms and said “I am hearing” Nicolas then said, “My first question is how do you flirt with an Elfic girl?” Pablo hearing that put his hand between his eyes and squeezing it he then said with a tone of irritation “Is this your utter Importance?” Nicolas then sited on top of the desk saying “Well yes I need to know how to talk with elves… with more charisma so to say” Pablo looked at him with eyes of disapproval and anger he then said “You are asking me for advice on that…” he then scoffed saying “You are literally called the most, high classing affiliated man by the people...” As he talked Nicolas raised his hand only capable of saying “Ah...” before Pablo interrupted him again saying “I haven't finished you are literally called the third most racist man on the court not of the country at least that you don't have. But from the court and i highly think that is very unlike” Nicolas once again tried to say “Well i…” but before he could say he was interrupted by Pablo again saying “I haven't finished yet the odds of you talking with an elf are seemingly non existing.” as Pablo finished Nicolas waited for a few seconds and then said “Can I speak now?” Pablo looked at him breathed in and out and said “yes” Nicolas then said “Well you can at least help me with some of that” Pablo looked to the left thought for a second he exhaled air from his lungs and said “No stereotypical jokes no racism and by the love of god don't make fun of our ears” Nicolas thought for a second and said “Jokes about humans would work” Pablo looked at him and said “Maybe” in straight form like he did not care, he then leaned back on his chair and said “So what is the second thing you wanted to talk?”

Nicolas hearing drank a little more of his wine and said “Ah… I need help with talking with Darcy” Pablo widen his eyes and said like he didn't believe “Darcy?” Nicolas said back with a positive tone “Yes Darcy Peres if I wasn't specific enough” Pablo coughed when he heard that saying “No I know that but why in the 9 Kingdoms you wanna talk with Darcy” he then said with the same positivity “I have some reasons that I can't tell... but can you help me with that” Pablo put himself on the thinker position looking worried and said leaving position “Well the only ones that were able to get close to her in emotional and catching her attention where either the Emperor, Your sister…” he then said the last name with notable irritation in his voice “And that kid that has been recently promoted I think his name is Alberto I guess”

Nicolas then said, “So how they can help me?” Pablo leaned back on his chair trying to relax and said “Well they can probably tell you what you need” Nicolas blew all the air in his lungs in frustration and said “Great now I need to talk with Sara I hope she is in good mood” Pablo then looked at him and said “Its not Sara I am talking about Tânia” Nicolas looked at Pablo with a face of disgust and said “Tânia?” Pablo then said “Yes Tânia” Nicolas begun to think for a minute and said “Now I need to find where she might be… she is possibly at a bar drinking until the sunrise” Pablo shakes his head in disapproval saying “Respect your family” Nicolas then replied “Well she doesn't care about us she disappeared without even saying anything and behaves wanting more to have self pleasure of herself” Pablo then replied to him as he finished saying “At Least act with respect she still is your sister” Nicolas then turned around facing the door with a face of disgust and said “Okay well I think I need to talk with Alberto then”

As he finished saying that the door opened appearing a woman in her twenties Nicolas widened his eyes and said “Lady Darcy” Pablo leaned to his left seeing Darcy standing in front of the door Nicolas smiling said “What brings you here my lady” Darcy with a neutral expression said “This is a private thing between me and Pablo Prince Nicolas you better leave right now” Nicolas raised his hand saying “But...” but as he was saying Darcy said in loud voice “Prince Nicolas Ventura Rosário would you like me to tell your father that you are disrupting governmental work” Nicolas continued smiling although with a noticeable discomfort he then began to walk to the door and said “Well I guess this is where I say good” he looked to Pablo and said “We talk later old man”

With Nicolas exiting the room Darcy looked at him and Nicolas saw in Darcy´s double colored eyes and felted a chill that seemed to rodiate her before she closed the door she then looked at Pablo that sitting on his chair he then said “Well what takes you to be here?” she then approached him saying “Well due to the incident at the border I need to tell you something” Pablo showed an expression of confusion and said “What incident?” Darcy looked confused as well and said “Haven't you talked with Douglas?” Pablo widened his eyes and picked the phone to his left saying “Oh god, i almost forgot” he begun to type the numbers meanwhile Darcy walked to the left of the room and sited on a chair that was there waiting to him to hear the news, as Pablo finished typing the numbers he then put the phone at his ear he then heard the voice of Marshall Douglas saying “Pablo is that you?” Pablo then replied “yes it is me” When he said that he heard Douglas saying in anger“Good then let me inform you that next time i gonna cut your Co…” hearing that Pablo lower the phone from his hand until the insults stopped he heard Darcy saying “He still is moody” Pablo replied looking at her emptied double colored eyes with a sensation of fear he then said“yes” approaching the phone to the back of his ear hearing Douglas saying “And that is it… Are you still there?” Pablo made a swallowed dry looking at Darcy he then looked to the left and said “yes I am still here what you wanted to say?”

He heard Douglas saying in a more calm voice but still worried “There happened serious incidents in the border with Helareu…” Pablo hearing that felted his blood getting cold as Douglas continued talking “Across the border it happened a series of raids against military radio towers, stationed divisions and many others we took some casualties but not so many…” Pablo raised from his chair thinking of what should be made in the current situation “the soldiers we killed used Helareu uniforms the situation is very bad right now the S.I.A forces already notified their leaders” Pablo when he heard of the words S.I.A he looked at Darcy remembering that she wanted to talk about this incident he then took a deep breath and said to Douglas “Put the army on full alert the situation is bad also notify the other Branch leaders” Douglas replied to him when he heard about notifying “Do I need to tell them? I am pretty sure they already know the drill” Pablo said back to him with anger on his tone “Yes you should that is an order” Douglas then said after a few seconds of silence “Yes sir” before turning off the phone.

Pablo then put the phone back on the place he then looked at Darcy and said “Is that what you wanted to discuss with me?” Darcy raised from her chair and said “Yes that is what I wanted to say” Pablo turned the back on her and walked to the window of his office while watching the Capital he said “So what the Emperor decided on this matter” Darcy then replied “He summoned the fourteen congress for the announcement of his decision” Pablo coughed with nervously thinking that the Emperor had made his mind already “So what is his decision” Darcy approached the desk and said “He decided to wage war...” Pablo when he heard that turned around with his eyes widened in shock he said “War? why?” Darcy then replied “You already know why he also asked you to initiate War plan 7 in exactly 8 hours”

Pablo noded by the order and said “I will warn then to initiate the plan at 0500 of the morning after tomorrow” Darcy nodded and said “Good” she then left the room leaving Pablo alone in the room while he contemplated he picked the phone and typed the number of the High marshall until Douglas answered the phone saying “Don't worry minister i already warned the others” Pablo then said “Then warn the others that Plan 7 will be executed in 8 Hours” Pablo heard a silence in the phone before hearing Douglas say “understood sir preparations will be ready by the sunsets” Douglas then turned off the phone, pablo hearing the phone getting cut sited on his chair to think for a minute of why Helareu soldiers would cross border raid Oswaria he then widened his eyes to the realisation of what possibly happened he raised from his chair and begun to walk one side of the room to the other thinking what to do then until his assistant opened the door saying “Sir I brought you some coffee since is gonna be a long night” Pablo looked at him and said “Where is the Emperor right now?” His assistant got confused with the question but he said “The Emperor is on the opera house right now”
Pablo ran to the exit of the palace once hearing about where the Emperor is while his assistant sees him leaving the ministry he is visibly confused when Pablo exited the palace he saw his driver reading a book he approached him opened the back door of the car and said “Igor I need you to take me to the opera house its an emergency” Igor nodded saying with a slight level of confusion “Okay sir” as Igor drove through the cities streets he looked at Pablo seeing him nervous biting his own finger.

As the car stopped in front of the opera house Pablo opened the door of the car and took the first steps of the stairs to the door he the middle of the stairs he stopped he took a deep breath trying to relax himself as he entered the opera house and made his way to the auditorium he noticed guards in all entrances to the auditorium as he approached then the guards said “Sir you are not allowed here” Pablo raised an eyebrow and said “What do you mean?... you know who I am?” The guard heard that saying “yes but the Emperor instructed us to…” Pablo irritated walked in front of then saying “get out of my way” the guards on the door hold him and said “Sir you better not do this or we have to use...” as they were talking a man opened the door behind them and seeing Pablo he said with surprise “Mr. Pablo what a surprise” he then waved to the guards and said “He can enter gentleman back to positions” the guards let go of his arms and Pablo entered the Auditorium the man that was inside smiled to Pablo and said “Mr. Pablo what brings you here Pablo looked at him and said “I need to talk with our majesty” the man then said “Oh, he is in the mid row of the Auditorium” Pablo said “Thank you” and entered the auditorium.

As Pablo stopped the middle auditorium he looked around he saw the place was empty and looking at the stage he saw the ballet dancing to the Dance of the swans noticing just a few seats away he saw a man smoking a cigar Pablo had a chill in his back and walked in the direction where the man was sitting until he was in the man's right side and when he saw the face of the Emperor he bowed saying “Your Majesty” Evandro looked at him and said “Pablo has been a while, take a seat son” Pablo took the seat next to him and the emperor said “So what brings you here” Pablo looked at him and said “I received the news about what happened at the border and I kinda that put one plus one together…” Evandro looked at him his expression seemed calm but behind the expression he was bleak Pablo continued to talk saying “Helareu would never do such daring attack your majesty” he turned to see him “Do you know what truly happened” Evandro looked back at the stage and said while he picked another cigar “Your view of this world is very noble Pablo, but in this world the only ones who succeed are the ones who keep fighting and conspiring to keep power…” Evandro offered a cigar to Pablo and said “In this world, you must be ready to do whatever it takes to achieve what you want” Pablo in his mind relucted for a while until he picked the cigar and light it up Evandro then said “Go rest kid you gonna need” Pablo noded with a little shake in his hands of fear.