---

...Six months Earth-time. Six whole months had already gone by in a flash after the operation's true purpose had begun in earnest. It would take this long to really settle the colonies, that was something they had already anticipated, but even so it was hard to process it had been this long. It felt almost like two months ago that they had finally opened The Gate, and the various groups had funneled in with their pre-approved colonization groups and supplies. Since then regular check-ins were undergone according to procedure, and likewise they had been busy themselves. Infrastructure building, resource harvesting operations, research and development programs to study and understand this world better, and of course keeping the gateway secure as they monitored the rate of Earthside atmospheric decay.

As of today, all the colonists had been given the communication that the planet had only six months left before the atmospheric decay reached the 'critical point' where super-rapid collapse was inevitable. Faster than the original timetable had calculated, but all the same a trivial matter at this point. Finally the channel to funnel in more supplies was being opened to the colonists, at least now that Phase One of the colonization process was complete. Of course it would take time to get other things through, and at a reasonable cost due to the ever-deteriorating situation Earthside, to get more things through...but that was the price to pay for survival. Nothing came for free.

Even so...

*Knock knock*

"V-Vice Director Callahan, I have the compiled scouting and research reports you asked for!"

Near the top of the New World side's Gate, a man in a well-tailored black suit sat at his desk. In his mouth was a vintage cigar propped in, its lit tip emitting only a faint trail of smoke at this point. His face had moments ago seemed to be at a point between exhaustion and some sense of momentary morning peace, though as the rap on the metal door rang in his ears his look changed to one of mild irritation and a little bit of resignation.

After a moment, and another timid knock, he would take his legs down...before snuffing out the cigar in an ash-filled metal tray next to the keyboard and projector for a sleek holographic computer that he'd become intimately familiar with using in the past few months and before. Too intimate and too familiar, really.

"Roberts, go ahead and come in already." the man grumbled, rolling his eyes and letting out an exasperated sigh.

After a moment, the metal door slid open with a futuristic 'whoosh' as a thin and lanky man in virtually generic white-collar attire stumbled into the room. He seemed to be a bit nervous, though as 'Roberts' looked up as Callahan beckoned him over. Quickly nodding in return, the smaller man brought over the papers and folders that were clutched tightly to his chest and set them on the desk proper.

"...Zimmer been running you ragged again carrying crap to the department heads?"

Roberts seemed to tense up an instant, though after looking back at the closed door he returned his gaze to the Vice Director and gave a quiet nod.

"Jesus. Last messenger Zimmer sent had a nervous breakdown, and that was the third one this month. Had to call in the Director on it. Might step down there myself at this rate," Callahan said, speaking to the more timid man as he picked up the folders and papers and began to thumb through, his eyes tightly scanning each page for key words, until eventually his eyebrows perked up on a particular page, "Ah...so they already have 'it' coming in soon. Gonna take a hell of a shot to get it up there, but the guys at the observatory are going to have a field day with this.

...Roberts, get yourself some synthetic coffee, take a second to breathe, and then go tell Astrology Chief Hansen I need to see him right now. The timetable for 'that' has moved up."

"Y-Yes sir!"

After making a hasty salute, Roberts beat a quick retreat out of the office without so much as another word.

Even so, the moment he was gone Callahan leaned back a bit more in his chair once more, eyes staring at the ceiling for a moment before giving a light shake of his head. For a moment he leaned over, then, cracking open a metal desk drawer and pulling out a smaller cigarette out of the open pack in there. He'd had the 'big cig', as he so called them, now he just needed something to take the edge off somewhat more gently. This stuff had been made from grown stuff on a patch here in the New World, bit of turf brought in to test out crops and plants and all of that. Was a small experiment, but one that had given him a few others some packs that no one else here was going to have already.

"Can't blame em', gotta have insurance in case things get a bit too spicy for the Director's tastes," he said, talking into thin air as he moved to light the cigarette...a faint purple smoke rising into the air this time as it began to burn, "Well, not like anyone has much time to get stuff in here anywho."

---

Throngs of people seemed to push through the cobblestone streets and the air above, whether it was men headed to work, mothers heading to market, or even merchants pulling through carts loaded to the brim with exotic wares. Whether it was the dauntingly-sized minotaur, flutter of a flying Drakki, or even the slight wet slap of a merfolk's feet, however, it was a kind of noise that wasn't uncommon here by far. Every day people went to work, or came back from it, or otherwise went about their business in this port city. Even those from beyond Grenacie were a common enough sight here as they came to trade or peddle goods or get about other business, and it wasn't uncommon to see humans and elves and the like around the place who either now lived here or were just staying for a time.

...Despite it all, Mialana felt a light nervous tingle run down her back as she rode along on her familiar. Even with her traveling cloak fastened tight about her, it was hard to avoid the stares from the locals and visitors as she moved along. She'd just arrived here last night, and frankly the journey here had been tiring enough as it was! Find a ship willing to take her, blow some of her allotted money on getting good passage, and then after the long days at sea simply getting a bed and some hot food at a local inn had been a welcome sight.

Even so she had a mission to get done here in Grenacie. Or rather, she had something to do to the south of it. Initial about that strange archway of iron and steel seeming to float on the water of the ocean itself was odd enough...but since then other word had gotten around. Humans, but not ones that anyone else seemed to know, in rumored ships of giant metal that moved over the water faster than any vessel should be able to. Then there had been the sight of the fleeing Qalyxhian Elves, fleeing of all things, and passing along stories of 'barbarians destroying the capital in one fell swoop with abominable magics the like none had ever seen before' along the way. Not to mention those that sat right off of Astrya's own shores, clustered there and seeming to do trade with the Empire at least. It was a very jarring thought that such alien magics and humans from another plane could arrive here, and be so potent despite them being so few (or many depending on the story) and yet it was all the same something she had come to confirm to the south of Grenacie.

A few were prepared to go beyond Astrya's borders and investigate the 'newcomers', perhaps see what they were about if possible. Yet among this group she and some others more were being sent to investigate other reported sightings of 'similar' foreign humans. Not many Battlemages to spare for this, but all the same it seemed to wise to not try to 'spook' the newcomers after a naval power like Qalyxh was shaken so terribly and forcefully.

"...Hanya, what do you think?" the younger Astryan Battlemage softly muttered to herself quietly, looking up at the semi-cloudy with a pondering look in her light-purple-colored eyes.

Most might not think such a hulking beast a being capable of thought, and for the most part she and Hanya had to roll with it when traveling unless they truly had to prove a point. The top and front of his head had three sets of curved, blade-like horns, sharp as much as they were 'stabby' as another fellow traveler had recently put it. His skin was orange-colored and his body fleshy like unto a human...albeit without light hairs on said skin. Or any hair really. Also he was admittedly far more densely muscled. His jaws were as strong as hardened steel, and she'd seen him bite with such power through an enemy knight once it was like they were a fragile twig! Even his four bright green eyes with vertically slitted black pupils in them, two on either side of his head, were something normally menacing to those not familiar with the existence of Astrya's Battlemages. In fact, his hunched-over body, razor-sharp clawed feet and four-fingered hands, and large Indajah-tier height was something to behold even among other familiars by far! Definitely an outlier, but not very rare either among Battlemage familiars.

However, Hanya was most definitely abnormally intelligent for a monster. Plus he was the one who had become her familiar in her youth at one of the Astrayan Battlemage Academies. Plus as mage and familiar they shared a-

'Mmm, if they become your foes then they will become mine. That is all I care for, little mage. Even so, if they are as mighty as you've heard then perhaps I might find a challenge to make against one there to pass the time.'

-...a mental link. One which Hanya had often shared his thoughts and the like most unprompted and at his leisure.

Mialana suddenly looked down at Hanya, a light pout on the black-haired female human's own face as she hit her familiar's back with her right hand balled up into a fist. To Hanya, however, that might as well be a light tap.

'We're not going there to pick a fight, you know. We're just meeting our merchant contact on the edge of the city as planned, and then he'll lead us close enough to the settlement that we can make it ourselves. Then we see what the truth behind all of this is.'

'Suit yourself,' the familiar communicated back, giving a huff aloud otherwise the sent a few of the more timid locals almost leaping to get out of his way, '...Heh.'

---

None could hear the screams of agony beyond those thick, stone-lined walls so deep underground...and yet that was so much part of the fun! Not as splendid and glorious as the voice of the Great One, oh not even close, and yet he could oh-so abide his time among those that had been condemned for the greatest treason. Yes, to fall away from the Great One's vision and the true path was something abhorrent, dastardly, oh it made him want to faint simply to imagine such a concept! It could not be abided, and so it further brought forth an indescribable rage from within him! Hot like the branding iron! Hot like the metal-spiked prison some were placed in over great bonfires in his humble little dungeons, even! No, it could only ever be as hot as his passion for the Great One's will that rang like a siren's song throughout his whole being!

Of course, today's flesh-puppet for him to use was a fun specimen that had been taken away in the night from a small village. His family had reported him after his tries to sway them, and oh how sweet their rewards would be to the gaze of the Great One! Yes indeed. However, this man's musculature was something best put to use grinding the limbs of some foolish fools among fools. His self had been lost long ago, eaten up like a snack before his fleshy form was made use of. Ah, but those screams as his very soul was devoured bit by bit had been like the sweet sound of a child's peals of joyous laughter.

"Master Azael! Master Azael!"

Ah. Finally, the remaining news from the scouts he had sent out. The human messenger, adorned in black bloody-red robes with a crimson slitted pupil and eye on the back, approached him with a sense of reverent haste. Azael turned from his position at the grinding rack, a tool of his own invention he was proud to say, watching the man take a knee in his presence. It was enough to make him remember his own devotion to great Kyros and smile even wider and wider, oh blessed be the Great One's revered name!

"What is the news? Yes? Have the others returned as well? Hmm?"

The man looked up at him, a great smile on his face in turn as the scars drawn back along his cheeks on either side of his mouth seemed to turn upwards with the corners of his mouth.

"It is as the Great One said to you, my divine lord! They have settled in those places spoken of in your glorious communion with His Voice! We have sent a most detailed report of their ships and what we could discover to the Great Palace, just as requested!"

"Ah, it is as He said! Oh indeed, I shall delved into your minds later to pull out the information for myself of course. I must ensure all has been send in exact detail to the Great One! But yes, my child, you may rest for now. May the True Path guide your footsteps!"

"Glory to Kyrosia! Glory to the Great One!"

For a moment, the follower's eyes seemed to turn pitch black entirely, no pupils or the like to be seen, before he rose up and ran off in haste. Yes indeed, a fitting sign for his children that had been created to follow him along this eternal path! He could do such to them, make it manifest...even so he would freely admit it was lesser to what the Great One had done to him personally. And yet how bright that darkness writhed within him even now! Oh, he could almost hear that blessed voice again it made him so ecstatic!

But...hmmm, yes in time the Great One's vision for these newcomers would be made manifest to them. It was the truth of the matter, and none could deny it. And if they tried to, he would be there to set it right. Ah. But for now he would need to return to his current subject. Yes, these spiked rollers were not going to shred the flesh from the rest of this arm anytime soon, and the magic was only going to keep the unbeliever alive and awake for so long!

Eventually more word would come, and he would act on it with all his might and power. The will of the Great One be done!

Joe Ruth woke up on a Monday, a bit hungover from the drinking of last night - a special occasion, an annual anniversary with his husband. Ruth twists and turns inside his own blanket for a few good minutes before his body and mind demands him to properly wake. With heavy eyelids and a throbbing head, Ruth steps outside of his bed and looks around the bedroom. It’s a roomy space, enough for a bed, single tv, bookshelf, and wardrobe (plus a few other knick-knacks here and there). Steve has an early work schedule, much earlier than his. Ruth starts his day at eight while his husband has to get up at the dusk of five for his logging job. Ruth’s stomach gurgles, a series of internal sounds that he can only hear, demanding food. Before he could even get to thinking about cooking or not, Joe has to release waste from his body first. Once relieved, hands and face washed, Ruth heads out to his living room and then onwards to the kitchen - where the stink is and where he would get his first drink of the day from. Next up is getting dressed properly for his work, which he was running a bit late on. A set of denim boilersuit, a pair of heavy duty work boots and gloves, a half-respirator, and a hard helmet, is the get-up as per regulation for the concerns of a maintenance factory-worker in a prefab factory.

Joe Ruth normally avoids the kitchen since he barely cooks for himself, but his husband does all the cooking in the relationship. Sadly, given Steve’s need to wake early and get to work fast, he can’t cook in the morning for Joe. Lucky for Ruth, he does not need to worry about cooking for himself, since all work-facilities have good ol’ dineries nearby or directly inside the work-place. All menu items are also all free, which is very nice. Joe’s work is not too far either with his factory only a few minutes walk from his current apartment. The man opens his door and finds himself in the apartment hallway, a tight corridor with a blue titleset. He heads towards the elevator, entering it as the door opens, and exiting it after he arrives at the ground level. He passess throught the main lobby and onto the stone pavement of the outside. The small stroll afforded to Joe everyday allowed him to think on a few things before his mental focus had to shift to his maintenance work.

It's only been a few months but everything seems to be going so fast. A few months ago, Joe Ruth was living in a hellhole known as the New York metro in the aftermath of a nuclear war - where the threat of food shortages, bandits, lack of medical supply, and much much more was very common and a part of reality. Now it is very different. He has fresh air to breathe, instead of that good ol’ New York underground smell of dead rats and god knows what else. No more cramped spaces, since there is actually an outside, one without the danger of nuclear winter. Food is not much else of an issue now, although there is news of light rationing coming as the Department of Agriculture has published its findings on the current challenges facing the various farm-collectives, and ther-

*BANG*

“There it is,” Joe Ruth whispered to himself. Those active construction sites can be pretty damn loud from time to time, never minding the constant noise that emits from their building. Lincoln has sure come a long way from what it is now. What was a big ol’ cruise ship is now a sprawling urban city bearing the name of the 16th U.S. President. There is no other place like Lincoln since there is no other urban city but Lincoln so far, but there should be future plans for more cities as the population grows, Ruth thinks to himself.

“Enjoying your walk?” a man said to Ruth, evidently his co-worker John Lewis, or just Lewis.

“Oh hey Lewis. I am. You?” Ruth responds as the two men start to walk side by side, eganing in friendly talk.

“I would, but my leg is killing me. I can’t even get painkillers yet.” Lewis complained, walking in somewhat of a restricted manner because of it.

“Factory number six, the pharmaceutical one, right? I heard that the production conductor has a real pole up his ass, and didn't follow proper regulation for the piping. Now the factory is undergoing some heavy repairs.” Ruth noted as Lewis carefully listened.

“A relative of mine that works there told me that the emergency meeting was short. The old conductor was voted out as quickly as he went in. The workers elected a new lad named Clarke. Let’s hope that this Clarke guy does better or else the workers will have to get a new conductor in.” Lewis said as the two men get closer to their designation.

“I hope you feel better, Lewis. What are you going to get at the diner today?” Ruth wonders since Lewis normally orders sometime new everyday.

“Ah, I'm gonna eat all the soy-meat that I can. Have you read the new edition of Lincoln Post yet? Lincoln’s railways are getting quite the attention from those magical beasts. They keep delaying iron shipments to our integrated steel mills here, from number one to three. The tractor factories are not producing enough spare parts and the collective farms are not getting their spares for their tractors.” Lewis pauses for a bit before continuing.

“Now the Lincoln Municipal has to stop the production of meat because soybeans are lower on the list of priorities.” Lewis finishes.

“Quite the detailed reader as you are. I’ll get caught up with the news after tonight, hopefully. Say, you still plan to get that new computer after you reach your work-hours to get it?” Ruth inquired.

“I do. It should be at the end of next week, if the electronic center still has them in stock. But I don’t think they’ll be in stock since all the hardware is being directed towards the refurbishing of that fusion plant back in the Autumn.” Lewis noted.

“Hhm. Come on, we’ll talk some more in the diner,” Ruth pointed out as the two men quickly turn the corner and then walk a few more steps to get into their work-place - navigating to the diner located in their factory.

T.P.A.
Fleet Log of Diplomatic Specialist Robert Flynn

Month 1: Exited gate. Scouted for suitable landing area. Observed sentient life with culture, class-based racial order with roughly medieval level of development. Fish a staple of sentient lizards, top of the pecking order.

Month 2: Dropped off sizable catches of deep sea fish at a border territorial island. Presumably harder to catch with lizard’s primitive boats. Came back to the same island spot a week later to make first contact with our linguist and two emissaries.

Month 3: Contact went as well as we could have hoped. These lizard folk are willing to make some form of trade with us and I believe they are appreciative of the sea-food we have acquired for them. Perhaps we can gain workers to help build our bases up.

Month 4: Entered presumed capital of lizard empire. Reminiscent of ancient Rome in certain respects. They were not altogether surprised at our arrival. Began work with resident linguists to begin communications between our people and establish trade.

Month 5: We have exchanged rough spoken language between ourselves. At this point, our linguists are able to understand and speak their language at a base level. They have proven excellent at learning our own as well. The long “ssss” are notable and hard to replicate. Trade has been agreed upon between the Lizard Emperor and Admiral Hayward. 300 guaranteed workers per month for quantities of deep sea fish. They are quite the specimens. Wolf like people and actual centaurs! They should make excellent workers. The short creatures and main lizard race we declined due to their limitations on stamina and size. I am returning home with 300 workers now to one of our claimed islands.

Month 6: More workers have been bartered for to be spread between our various holdings. If we can keep their numbers no higher than our own, perhaps we can better acclimate them to our ways and culture. Time will tell.

Administrator Meeting

Joseph Black finally takes his seat at the head of the meeting. "Ladies and gentlemen. It has been six months since our arrival, I know there have been many meetings between each of you and myself but I think it is a time to get an assessment of our overall progress." he says casting his eyes around the assembly. "Security, lets begin."

The Security administrator, and head of the Trade Alliance Infantry clears his throat, "mmm, Yes. Construction of the base fortification is nearly complete and we have had little trouble with the... locals." Says the administrator in a gruff an military bearing. "However the, well, I don't think we have an official name for them yet. Anyway we have been calling them goblins, are little more than a nuisance. Every night we have been finding a few flint tipped spears imbedded into the walls no injuries or deaths yet."

The flight Commander of the Reaver wing speaks up "We did some recon in the hills north of us, seems like there are tribes of the goblins up there. I'm not sure on the structure, if they are one tribe or several separate groups, but there are a dozen groups of them each several hundred strong. Oh, and we noticed many more campfires further north as the sun went down. There are thousands of the little buggers."

One of the elected officials spoke up, "Are they a concern?"

"No, not really. if they came in force we may have trouble with them but the wooden palisade is enough to keep them out. Once concrete is an option they won't have the technology to get through the walls."

the meeting falls quiet a moment absorbing the information. "very good" says Joseph, "How about agriculture?"

The elderly woman glances down at her notes for a brief moment checking that the figures she has been working with every day for months are still correct "It seems we are at 80% to sustainably feeding the population on shore based farms but people are getting upset, they expected land to begin their own cultivation and trade."

Joseph nods, "Well that takes us to Economics, How is the plan on that front?"

Several people begin to shift to speak before most of them realize their version of economics was not being addressed. The local economics admin adjusted his glasses and recited the plan "we should parcel out land totaling an equal to the state controlled land to people and allow them to clear and cultivate it, once that harvest is rolling in the current state land should be parceled out to those who want land but did not get any in the first round. Probably months before this is complete and will require monitoring but should keep most citizens happy."

Joseph smiles, things are going well on all fronts so far, but there remained one that was critical. "Foreign administrator?"

The woman simply nodded, "No news on that front, all vessels except the survey ship, have been in the cape. we are awaiting the colony to be well established and an internal economy in motion before establishing any concrete relationships. However the possibility of trade deals are being discussed but there have been no formal arrangements."

again the congregation nods absorbing the information "Speaking of, How are the surveys going?"

The bookish lady frowns slightly, "In terms of base resources such as Iron, various components of concrete, copper, even some coal, we have enough to start a simple but robust economy in manufactured goods, building materials and simple fuel. However some of the more precious resources have not been found yet such as gold, uranium or oil. The survey ship has been gone about a week now, so they may have found something new but we will not know until their return"

"Alight, Industry?"

A man covered in grit and grime smiles "Yeah, like the lady said, plenty of base materials to work with, and that Gaea corp tech is pretty awesome. We almost have a full industrial base, if we play our cards right we should have a large scale industrial forge by the end of the month, and some machine shops making various small parts. All by hand unfortunately, don't have the population to support large scale mass production of much of anything.. except bullets you know, just in case. But I Think these should stay state operated and people can build out that level of infrastructure as our economy can support it. Especially once trade with the others begins in earnest. Oh, and some of the lads are talking about getting another A-1R plane together probably take a few months doing it by hand though."

"This is all sounding very promising" he says looking at the clock "I think its time for a little break, thank you lets all return after lunch"

The morning haze had yet to burn off in the capital of Taxipelermico, leaving the city wreathed in an intimidating cloak of mist. In the delta areas, emaciated, long-legged figures stalked, twisted legs plucking through the silt and mud to make their way towards the freshwater gardens, and further out, where the river could not overcome and the water was brackish and unpalatable, the bloated forms of living, floating cultivators tended to the bounties of edible plantlife there. As the sun rose higher and higher into the sky, its rays would grace the tips of the great temples and the rivulets of blood running down their sides, each river another offering. The last of the broken, mutilated bodies would finally topple down the steps of the smallest of the pyramids until finally it had ended its descent, not a drop left in its veins.

This, however, was all normal for those in the city. What was not was the topic of discussion going on in the tallest and widest of the temples, its multiple tiers uniquely designed to host government as well as ritual. Standing outside its pillars, the last of the blood finishing its route down past them, masked and armed freemen stood, still and silent sentinels stopping any who would interfere with the great works being carried out behind them.

Inside, several intricately-adorned figures spoke.

"We know that they are not the only newcomers." The first figure that spoke was the only one sitting. Noticably older than the rest, his damp skin was crinkled like well-used paper and far more gold hung onto his frail form than on any of the others. He croaked out a feeble breath, fingers gripping his staff with surprising force for his seeming invalidity. "This changes what we thought. They may well be more powerful than us, when all united. As allies, they could amplify Telczan's power greatly."

"Or, we could simply be letting them know of our power and prime them to destroy us. You have seen their great sea-crafts, can you imagine what the weaponry on that might do when brought to bear against us?" In constrast, this figure was broad-shouldered and could almost avoid being considered as 'frail.' His crown bore an intricately marked series of deep red symbols that had been cut into his flesh, the designs totally circling his elongated skull.

"Your youth makes you suspicious." The third figure analysed the youngest among them with suspicion. "There is nothing to be lost with talk, and much to be gained. I know you have come from weaving battlefields, but blood and spoilt flesh is not the only thing we must work with when we rule our people."

"Exactly." The oldest figure's mouth contorted into a thin smile. "All in favour of a proper envoy." He held his hand up as he spoke, and the veins would begin to emanate a soft blue glow. Around him, other figures raised up their own hands, arms lit up in hues of blues and oranges to show their approval or dissaproval. Looking about, the older figure would nod, slowly, before levering himself to his feet. In one corner, a short, many legged figure squatted, and the fleshcrafter's hand would come down onto his forehead, the blue light flowing out and into this lesser being's cranium. With a bestial chatter it acknowledged its orders, before scurrying out and down the steps of the temple, single-minded in carrying out the will of its masters.

As written in a letter carried by a small galley journeying to Addacius

To the attention of His Majesty Menesthios, Emperor of the Addacians.

I have been warned by the commander of the garrison on Thassox of the arrival of barbarian ships near a fishing village. As his report indicated, their purpose did not appear to be a raid or attack of any kind; indeed, they appeared to be peaceful, if armed. They are humans, although their language does not resemble any known human language, nor any other for that matter. They have ships unlike any others, made of metal and moving without oars nor sails. These vessels also produce a loud, continuous noise as they move, like the sound of distant thunder. Their clothes are equally strange: obviously made with fine cloth of which the individual strands cannot be seen from a few paces away, not unlike silk or the finest linen fabrics; yet despite this they do not wear much in the way of jewelry, if any. These clothes also lack the vibrant colors and ornaments one would expect on such refined pieces.

Their weapons brought yet further confusion to my mind. I can only speculate that they are some sort of hand cannon, but look almost nothing alike. The barrel is long and narrow, coming out of a case that seems to house an inexplicably complex trigger mechanism. Neither myself, nor any of the officers present could figure out how they could possibly function and for what purpose. By contrast, the armor worn by their warriors seems to be quite primitive by comparison, seemingly made of thick plates of cloth sewn together as some sort of breastplate. Their helmets are similarly thick and padded.

It seems that the barbarians had left a large quantity of fish meant to be a gift. Based on what limited exchanges we could make, although I could not understand where they came from exactly, it is probable that they seek some kind of trade. Their craftsmanship is evidently unlike any in the Empire, to the point that their methods cannot even be guessed at. I shall maintain regular contact with this tribe awaiting for your instructions and send further reports to inform Your Majesty of any developments.

Thus are my words,
Theramenes, Warden of the Northern Coast and devoted servant of the Empire.

The Light of Rome clashed with the great waves of the oceans, defiant against the elements that would seek to drag the island under so that those Romans might now know peace in this new world. It’s beacon shown weakly on the shore, barely hidden in a small bay where the waves could not reach it so easily and where the settlers had built up their new city. It was within this Beacon of Rome that the Italian culture began to take root in the New World as the people had built up classical italian homes and that one might have seen while walking through the older streets of the ancient city that these colonizers had come from. This could not have been done without the help of the technology from the Gaia Corporation, able to fabricate what was needed for the city to properly begin to take root.

It was within this city that the two consuls, Taide and Ciro, looked out to that calm bay as the Romulus and Remus stayed anchored in the newly built docks. The two men were in a silent bliss as the moon kissed the earth, enjoying a night where they did not have to take turns truly managing the city from dawn to dawn. As it stood, the Beacon of Rome would be able to operate for some time on its own, allowing the farmers to claim their lands from the wilderness and sow their seeds. Perhaps, life would not be as bad as what many would have believed for the italian people took the day to make celebration as they had survived for half of a year and now, they had power.

“I hope to God that we won’t have to live without power for that long again,” Taide laughed, earning a snort from Ciro as the silence was disrupted.

Ciro gave the other consul a look, “You should be more worried that those lizards don’t become pests. You know the senate motions that we drive them from our lands, right?” He took a step forward, looking back out to the bay and loosing a sigh. “They’re smarter than the lizards I’m used to,” Ciro stated in a light annoyance, “And much bigger.”

“Yes, yes. I know your concern,” Taide started, “But you know that we cannot afford to go to war yet. Plus, we don’t even know if those things are even capable of speaking. Guns will scare them off plenty.”

“And what about when our guns don’t scare them anymore?” Ciro countered, not bothering to meet the gaze of his other consul, “Sure, the city is set up, but you know as well as I do that we don’t know what other people might be on this island. For all we know, we are just invaders to them and they could have allies.” Ciro finally turned to look at Taide, concern in his eyes as he brushed his hair back and closed his eyes to take a moment to breathe.

“We need to proceed with caution, Taide. Tomorrow, the Senate will meet and I’m going to be talking with the Legion to make sure they know not to just kill the lizards. That means that you need to convince the Senate that we can’t push our boundaries too far just yet,” Ciro ordered, meeting the glare from Taide as both consuls silently battled each other.

“No. The Senate is right, this is our land now. Those things will need to understand that this land is our land. With Rome itself gone, we will need the space for our people and our farms and whatever it is that we will need,” Taide countered, the joy on his face slowly going away as the two began to bicker. He watched as Ciro let out a groan and ran a hand over his face before offending Taide’s ears with a response.

“Okay, fine. But at least do me the favor to try and have the senate motion for a more diplomatic approach. I don’t want to go against them and have the populace at our throat if I try to steer clear of conflict,” Ciro sighed as he stepped away from the other consul.

“Very well, Ciro. You have my word that I’ll attempt to steer the council away from an aggressive war,” Taide said with an equal sigh, turning away from Ciro and storming off to allow the other man to bask in the light of the moon for the moment. The two had always been at odds on how to handle the native population of the island, the verminous kobolds that had since been of little issue to them. The senate had been on the heels of the consuls to deal with them, but only Ciro stood between Rome and the natives, much to the ire of the senate.

It did not help that the Legion would not act without both of the consuls approving of a military action against the kobold tribes, that they had since merely been scaring away from the lands claimed by the new republic. The senate had no authority to command them and the commander of the First Legion sided with Ciro in that the Republic should not overstep its boundaries and should focus more on developing the land it already had with the people that had just now been able to establish a sense of normalcy after so long. This act angered the Senate who continued to rail against Ciro, calling him and the commander of the First both cowards who did not care for Rome's interests. The Legion would always counter this by saying that the Senate acted as warmongers who would rather see their own interests furthered rather than the safety of Rome itself.

Such was the ways of politics.

Within the bridge, Admiral Hayward scanned the seas from their carrier flagship, P.A.S. Jackson. The single most advanced, and capable carrier from the former United States navy before the war. Parts were salvaged, weapons repurposed, and supplies were scrounged up to make this hopefully historic voyage. Other numerous ships dotted the waves of all types and styles. They were all there for the grand opening of one thing. The Gate. It took the collaborative efforts of every capable nation to construct a theoretical portal into another world. It would now be time to see if all the sacrifices would pay off. Not that it would matter if it did not. They collectively only had about 6 months of life left on earth. If those supposed scientific masterminds with Gaea Corp. were correct, it could be their time to begin again.

The Autumn, flagship of the ‘Red U.S’, is seen out in the distance - also awaiting the Gaea corridor to open its floodgates into the new world. Flying high on the cruise ship is the United States eagle holding a hammer in its right claw and a sickle in its left claw. A red star is above the eagle with a banner hanging in between the two entities - eagle and star - with the words, E Pluribus Unum. Of course no one can actually read those words as every ship is hundreds of meters apart from each other, but it is unmistakably their red cousins from the New York metro. The whole family is here for a good ol’ reunion, albeit two distant relatives.

Before the assembled ships and fleets and peoples waiting to get in, however, the Admiral’s eyes would ultimately fall on the truly titanic structure before them all. Indeed, the gigantic structure that was “The Gate” stood like a great arch out of the ocean, its hull of gleaming metal plates, windows from various facilities actually built into it all over, and otherwise sat almost glowing in the morning sun. Yet its terrible size spoke of a level of status that it seemed to carry, a certain reverence and grand majesty that would bring so many to awe. It was a veritable and literal behemoth in structure, and in the cruel reality for Earth the final great monument to the advancements of mankind.

Yet once opened it would be suitably well defended by the Gaea Corporation at the very least, as it already had been by the simply large fleet that had been assembled about it before the other had arrived. It would be the “last shining hope of mankind” that it had been advertised as. Only some time ago they had announced the date of the ‘grand opening’, leaving time for those who had contributed to get ready to send in their initial fleets as the Gaea Corporation prepared for the start-up. Even the prepared rules of the project had been sent, informing the ‘participants’ of the gist of how things would go down. Especially regarding the company’s neutrality and neutral zones on both sides. Even a docket of potential livable locations had been sent!



A sudden hum would cut the air, breaching the very tension that seemed to build after the announcement had been made over a grand external loudspeaker system that all should prepare to go ahead as soon as it opened. No fanfare, no grand countdown, nothing of it was had. Yet before the eyes of all assembled, they would see the air under the gate’s arch begin to twist and bend and warp, before eventually a spark of light akin to that of the sun would begin to shine at the center of this spatial vortex. Slowly the light would grow, however, before suddenly collapsing outwards in a rapid spread and unleashing a blinding light.

...When said light settled, the seemingly impossible would have opened up before the Admiral and other fleets before The Gate. For what they saw was not the crisp sea air of Earth, but a different blue sky filled with clouds and seas that seemed to suddenly begin to mix within the portal and connect to Earth’s own. Even a pack of strange avians, bearing three sets of wings and long black beaks and four eyes, seemed to zip through the portal to Earth’s side with a strange spooked squawking.

Admiral Hayward's eyes widened in amazement at the colossal structure. He mouthed to himself quietly, "They were right.."

The old world nations made their way through the gate group by group. Overseen by the gatekeepers. A new day had dawned in a new world. Promises of resources, habitability and new beginnings beckoned them. What adventures would await, and could they let old rivalries lie? Only time would tell...

‘Dear High Priest,’ the Queen intoned imperiously, ‘perhaps I have not explained the urgency of my people’s situation thoroughly enough?’

‘Your majesty, I assure you, we are all thoroughly aware of the need to manage your people’s plight in swift order,’ Pema Faham assured her, again, for the fourth day in a row. ‘That cannot happen without-’

‘It can readily happen, High Priest, if you would but persuade your people of the necessity of helping those in need by taking back what has been wrongfully stolen! Do you not value such things?’ she interrupted, leading Pema to stroke his trunk with one hand. Family, but she was trying, and apparently she had it in mind that his position as a “mere” High Priest put him beneath her in status. Technically, this might be true, if one considered the Ruling Council the highest authority. That, however, would be like claiming one individual could know all - they were leaders politically, he and his fellow High Priests were religiously-inclined experts, and they had plenty of other roles to fill in besides. A modicum of respect would be appreciated, regardless.

‘Once again, I must be clear that war is not my decision to pursue,’ he stated, firmly enough to ascertain his position without offending her - and yet, offended she was, by the curl of her lip. ‘I could certainly rile indaj and kobold alike, bring them to match your mindset of war against those occupying your kingdom and so persuade the Council. However, your majesty, doing so would be effortful and over-costly on too many avenues, not least discussions with other nearby human colonies; it would be an overreach of my authority as High Priest of Strength; and moreover, it would be a gross violation of the Family’s principles.’

‘A gross violation!’ she cried dramatically, practically false-fainting in her chair. ‘It isn’t considered gross that those, those, invasive humans would dare slaughter our people like chattel!’ He was quite glad she at least took the courtesy of meeting him privately rather than publicly - his sanctum was not too decorated, certainly more ascetic than the temple proper, of red and grey cloth representing blood and people as it had long before even the arrival of the little dragons. Moreover, it was well away from prying eyes and over-sensitive ears.

‘We... do not approve of their attacks, if they are indeed unprovoked,’ he stated, raising a hand to keep her from continuing her rant, ‘but it has never been our way to fight when other options are available. If a misunderstanding was reached, then a diplomatic solution would be far more helpful, for your people and for mine. I ask you again to consider: if we sent an invasion force, limited as our naval capacity is, their magics, or weapons, or whatever forces they bring to bear, could easily destroy your capital outright, long before we could help. How many more elves would perish, consequently?’

‘Too-! Ahem. Too many.’

‘Indeed, your majesty. But a smaller team, a few indajah Priests and a number of kobolds and the finest elven diplomats you can offer, could approach them peaceably, and set out suitable... what’s the word, payback? Repayment? Forgive me, my mind is not the trap it used to be, but you know well that is the course we have been pursuing.’ Age was a terrible thing. Physically, Pema Faham was as fit and strong as he’d ever been in his youth, if rather more wrinkled, courtesy of Brother Strength. Mentally, though, he knew he was degrading somewhat. It was natural, but it was not welcome per se.

‘Ah, I see what you mean,’ the Queen stated sagely, nodding as if she’d known all along even as she gesticulated her apparent understanding. ‘You’ve sent these diplomats in, they’ll engage in these peace talks... and when the leaders have their guard down, the assassinations will happen, and we’ll strike whilst the humans are in chaos.’

Now Pema Faham lost his composure, even if it was as simple as burying his face in his hands and allowing a faint, trumpeting sigh to escape him. ‘No, your majesty,’ he corrected, looking down at her sternly, once more struck by how incredibly extravagant her outfit was. A dress of blue silks and bright gemstones clung to a lightly-tanned frame, far more restrictive than might be considered reasonable for ruling purposes, let alone sailing purposes. But then, her people were accomplished sailors... ‘They’ll engage in peace talks to come to an agreement, one that can be approved by all sides. The humans who have invaded you may choose to accept or decline the terms, and if the talks break down and they refuse all terms, then perhaps you may sway the Ruling Council or myself on the matter of counter-invasion. Until then,’ he concluded, ‘it is out of my hands.’

‘Hmph. Strength, indeed,’ Leinani scoffed, her arms folded. Ever so gently, Pema rested one hand on her shoulder in compassion, dainty as it was; she immediately shrugged him off and stood to leave, but he hoped the point to come would be clear.

‘Strength comes in many forms,’ he offered, his tone a balm of sorts. ‘The strength to fight is but one aspect; strength of heart is another, as is the strength to forgive one’s enemies for their failings.’

‘Psh. I cannot forgive my kin’s murder.’ And that was the crux, ultimately, the High Priest reckoned as Queen Leinani strode out in her strange and semi-ethereal fashion. Her child had passed, undeniably at the hands of La Flotille Atlantique; she, her husband the King, and in a way her whole nation grieved for him still. It was the impenetrable scale, as kobolds often said, the single issue they wouldn’t strike around - and it had to be factored into any and all such talks. He could only hope the envoys sent would find a way to render all parties suitably appeased on their side, and that the offended parties would eventually accept on his.

A co-write between @Dog and @Willy Vereb

“We’re here,” States one of the casually dressed men as he stops the supply truck. He’s Gary Hobbs, an intelligence agent working for the Union of Socialist American States. His partner is Justin Brown. Their destination is the major town of Lindow just a few miles away. They hop out of their seat and onto the dirt ground, they should walk from here. The two take a few good minutes to stare out into the distance, into the vast farm fields and night. Justin goes ahead into the back of the supply truck, grabbing a large black backpack filled with all sorts of modern goodies, along with waving to the team of seven soldiers that rode in the back. Three of the seven armed soldiers got out of the truck while the others opted to stay behind to guard the truck and its inventory. Gary takes a quick look at his watch as he waits for Justin. It is just about the start of midnight, 11:43 AM. Justin walks ahead of his partner’s position as Gary chuckles for the odd situation and world that he found himself in, following Justin and their details.

“Nice field farms, eh?” Justin notes, gazing at the landscape of crops and the occasional farmer that would stare back at the odd band of individuals striding closer to the town.

“Reminds me of good ol’ Kansas. Too bad my home-state wouldn't exist for long.” Gary responds, stuffing his right hand into his jean pocket and letting loose his left hand. The walk towards the town was not a long one, 20 minutes as Gary timed. The men and their security detail chattered about their lives, home, foods, news, and what else that they could as they walked. Once reaching the town, their talkative nature stops as they refocus on the mission at hand.

According to hearsay Lindow’s most famous tavern is Dewhurst, named after the local wine hills. Yet tasting wine is the least of their concern. Reports state that the captain of the free mercenary group Naporia visits this tavern fairly often. Finding the place was trivial but perhaps the agents should’ve picked a more inconspicuous attire. It is not everyday that you see two men wearing t-shirts and jeans escorted by a trio of stiff faced men in combat fatigues. They drew a lot of stares from the townsfolk.

Entering into Dewhurst, the tavern is loud, filled, and has the smell of wine, ale and whatever else that they have here to sell as drinks and food. The patrons paid little attention to the newcomers, either giving off a simple stare or minding their own business. Justin scans the area before spotting a humanoid with equine or rather goat-like lower body. Member of the zeignon race, a goat-taur. Since zeignons are rare around these lands it must be a mercenary from Naporia, almost assuredly their captain. Justin signals Gary and the rest to follow. A larger bunch of the patrons start to give off more glazes towards the agents and their guards, as they go deeper into Dewhurst - something more exciting then their usual day at the Dewhurst since no one with that kind of modern clothing is ever seen until today.

The agents walk up to the captain’s table. He's a tall and surprisingly well-built middle aged man. Some rumors say goattaurs are more muscular at average and it may not be a lie. He has a large scar over the left side of his face and blind to one eye. His facial features alone could tell a pretty colorful tale.

“I’d like to speak with the captain of Naporia,” Gary demands, shifting the weight of his left leg to his right. The goattaur mercenary stops staring at his cup and looks over the agents. He’s already drunk so it takes a few seconds for him to realize what’s going on.

“You’re already doing that. I am Gwer Siegfried, at your service. And who you’d be?” He answers in almost a casual tone.

“Is your company looking for work?” Gary asks before coughing into his sleeve as whiffs of beer and the sweat of men and women goes into his throat.

“They always do. Sometimes with less luck. It’s past harvest so work isn’t just falling into our lap. Make no mistake, Sire. Our pouches have more gold than needed to last through the winter. If you want to make an offer better make it worth our time!” Drunk or not, Gwer was the leader of an entire mercenary group, he never sold himself cheap.

“Ain't you a bit drunk to talk about official business, but then again we’re the ones who went to you at this time,” Gary notes.

“This is the best mood you find me here. Normally I wouldn’t just stand and listen when a group of strangers try funny questions without even giving their names. But it isn’t every time I’m sought out without knowing them in return. So color me interested.”

“Ah, where’s my manners? Name’s Martin and my friend here is Ryan,” Gary points to Justin. “Why don’t we talk outside? It’s too loud in here for my likes.”

“Certainly not from this place, eh? Consider my interest piqued. Allow me to finish my drink in private and I’ll rejoin you outside the ol’ Dewhurst, okay?”

Gary nods as the foreign agents leave Gwer to his own devices, waiting at the tavern’s entrance. Few minutes passed and the supposed captain of the mercenaries met the agents again.

“Gentlemen, you wanted me to talk business. I’d happily guide you to a nice room in private but I have a hunch that wouldn’t really suit this occasion. I know a woodland clearing just outside Lindow. Nice, tranquil view. Not a single soul visits there. Shall we go?”

“Sounds lovely to us. Shall we?” Justin gives a big smile towards Gwer.

Following the goattaur’s guide the agents walked through the whole town until they reached the western gate. Curiously they got even more stares than before. Some were seen whispering. The Americans were on alert, keeping hands close to where they concealed their guns. Shortly after walking past the gate their suspicions were seemingly confirmed. A group of a dozen armed goattaurs showed up.

“At ease! We’re meeting friends here!” Gwer raised his hand, ordering the mercenaries to stand down. If he were just a few seconds late this could’ve easily turned into a bloodbath. “Pardon my men for their rudeness, they expected only me. Okay, so I might’ve been a little vague. No common folk visits this place because they know they aren’t welcome. We chose this forest as our hangout of sorts, you see. I can’t tell you where our camp lies but I can guarantee nobody will disturb us here.” Gwer went to explain the full circumstances of the meeting. The tables were seemingly turned but given the double stacked magazines of the service pistols it’s fairly likely that Americans could control the situation the same.

“So let’s get to business, Ryan and Martin. It’s rare to meet the famed Outlanders in person. I don’t know who you are, what you want or even why you are here. But I heard enough rumors to put the pieces together. I am aware that recently a bunch of strangers were straddling at the shores. You must’ve been part of whichever group is the closest. I don’t know why you need me and Naporia but I’m all ears. What? Did you expect me to be angry? We’re all mercenaries here. Money talks and we remain silent. So tell us, what you’d like us to do?”

“Our military is in need of more soldiers in light of our critical shortage of manpower. We need you to bolster our forces at the frontier. Clear out bandits, magical beasts, and whatever else that the wilds has to offer,” Justin briefly says.

“A somewhat tense guard post, eh? Doesn’t sound bad at all. I guess even the mighty Outlanders need more hands they can move. I’d gladly ask about more details but there’s something very important to know. What’s in for us? Since I know what you want I assume you also know what my men want, right? We are mercenaries, afterall.”

“How many luxuries do you and your company enjoy?” Gary asks.

“Less than we want, more than what we deserve. It’s within the nature of the mercenary to be greedy, there’s no spender more magnanimous than the merc who just got paid. Given your tone I assume you are confident you can provide us a live comfier than we do now. That’s a brave stance to hold! I like it! I have my own reservations about whether you can hold your end of the bargain but I guess we’ll see.”

“Before that though, I’d like to be certain. Your attire, your names, your manner of speech. My instincts scream that you’re the rumored Outlanders but I want to be confident beyond any doubt. Whenever you hear tales about the Outlanders these never miss a beat to describe their lightning wands. Sorcerous tools that could spew unseen bolts like lightning yet with the rapidity of a storm. Assortment of boxes and tubes that can fell a lance of fully armored knights within an instant. I’m no fool, I know you wouldn’t walk a step outside your confines without wielding those. Show them to me!”

“Our pistols are not magic whatsoever, but we rather not take up time in explaining the inner workings of them,” Justin nods to one of the guards. The soldier nods back, unholstering his Beretta M9 before aiming down a random nearby tree with no-one around it, and quickly shots off a few rounds before clicking his pistol to safety and pointing the muzzle down to the ground.

The dozen or so goattaur mercenaries present were in complete awe, it all happened before they could realize what’s going on. Many were frightened, others confused. Gwer was just smiling. He had a hard time containing his excitement. The gears in his head were visibly turning. “You say it’s a type of pistola?...” He was gleeful. That night Gwer and his trusted bodyguards agreed to follow the strangers back to the concealed truck. He had a lot of questions and even more things he’d like to know but he’d keep that to himself. This day marked the start when the free company of Naporia joined hands with the Union.

Deep in the mountains, living in borderline isolation from the rest of the world there's Nilberg. Beautiful landscape ranging from snowy mountaintops, green valleys to unforgiving deserts. The home of Zeignons, also known as goattaurs. Though the Confederacy outwardly seems like a single ruling body in effect it's little more than just a strong alliance of nineteen cantons, each with their own autonomy and sovereignty. These cantons can be vary from de-facto kingdoms to democratic city states. Yet they share similar culture, beliefs and a strong historical bond. They are a modest sized country with scarce resources. This made forming connections with a wide range of other nations simple, nobody saw them as a rival or a potential target of conquest anymore. Combine this with the natural curiosity and wandering spirit of Zeignons and Nilbergians were prospering massively during the last two centuries.

Yet their almost two hundred years without military threat might be coming to a swift end. The last few months were tense for the Nilbergians even though they weren't directly effected. This is actually the fifth time the Federal Diet talks of the so-called "Outlanders" as its main topic. With thousands of Nilbergians leaving the mountains and almost as many returning every day it isn't surprising they got news about these mysterious strangers rather early. At first they viewed them with curious wonder but after the swift fall of multiple countries they realized the full dread of the Outlanders. A party rose which urged action against these strangers while many appealed to their historical neutrality and impartiality to offer their mercenary services.

"Fellow representatives, you should be all aware by now that the Qalyxh Isles were overrun by these Outlanders. What you may not know that these savages murdered Crown Prince Keaon in cold blood and ruined the wondrous city of Ocia. They currently hold the First Princess and the Third Prince hostage. They're slaves within their own country! This is nothing but a short glimpse into what awaits all of us if we don't act now!" Vito Liggenstorfer concluded his short speech. He advocates for a massive continent wide coalition against the Outlander threat.

"Need I remind the Diet that this splinter force of the Outlanders completely demolished the single greatest naval power in the world? If we-" Agata Iller, supporter of the moderates and one of the many representatives opposing Vito was already making her counterpoint when Vito interjected.

"Pardon to interrupt but we don't know what sorts of foul trickery the Outlanders used. Given the swiftness of their victory they might've used a divine artifact or called upon the favor of the sea gods. This is why I call for the urgency of this alliance. Strike them while they're weak!" Vito tried to reinforce his argument at all costs.

"I am sure you're aware that Nilberg is a landlocked region without any access to the great seas. What do you suppose we'd even do, Herr Liggenstorfer?" Nils Kölliker spoke up in objection.

"We can thwart their intrusion to the continent. We'd be the shield of civilization, warding off the viles of barbarism! The enemy may have some underhanded means of triumphing on water but we have the advantage on the surface!" Vito continued his defense.

"That sounds so grand and brave, Herr Liggenstorfer. Did you happen to forget the Outlanders' personal might? They carry magic rods and stormboxes, unleashing invisible lightning which slaughters dozens in a mere flash. How do you even fight an opponent like that?" Agata didn't let go, either.

"Those are just empty rumors at best. Even if they do possess such artifacts the amount of magic needed would only allow the best spellcasters to operate these. If we take them out we-" Vito continued his retort but this time he got interrupted, instead.

"Herr Liggenstorfer, your spirited belief is admirable but I'm afraid we need something of more substance than just mere theories." Leon Denzler suddenly spoke up.

"What do you mean? How can you prove any of these baseless rumors?" Vito retorted.

"I contacted a group of mercenaries from the free company of Naporia. They managed to acquire the Outlanders' stormboxes and have been using them for a while. Let me just say their findings were... extraordinary. Leon continued with a wide grin.

"Wait, what do you mea-" Vito was at loss of words.

"Let them in!" Leon declared and the guards opened the front door, revealing a quartett of deertaurs. One of them was Isak Gasser, Naporia's mercenary. He carried a strange boxy object with various protrusions on it. He was accompanied by three of Leon's adjucants carrying a suit of plate armor, a pig carcass and a stand. The overwhelming majority of the Diet were surprised, others had a knowing smile. Isak and the servants bowed down in respect before the Diet, expressing their courtesy. Following that Leon just said this: "I think an actual demonstration is in order. Herr Gasser, please?"

The servants set up the target. It consisted of a pig carcass on a stand, with a plate cuirass put over it and further decorated by something seemingly taken from a scarecrow. Then Isak inserted a smaller box into the larger boxy contraption, raised the object and something surprising happened.

Though very distinct from everything they heard before the Diet definitely heard the sound of a gunshot. From where? The noise seemingly originated from the front, where Isak stood. Yet they saw no signature smoke, although the more observant could see a bright flash. With the attention of the entire diet on him Isak continued the demonstration. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Leaving barely a second of rest he kept pulling the trigger. After that he put down the weapon, giving the audience time to see the results.

"As you can see this is a type of gonne which the Outlanders use. There's no magic involved as far as we know, just expert craftsmanship. According to our information from Naporia this is the rumored Stormbox used by the Outlanders. A gun of unthinkable quality. Now observe the results! I know you all recognize the crest of the maker, yes, this is a famed Desiderian Armor. In spite of that the Stormbox punched clean through it. You could also see the rapidity of the shots. This weapon can fire thirty times in a row! Yet you haven't seen the true terror of this type of weapon yet!" Leon proceeded to explain it to the Diet. Things were about to get crazy!

RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA! *CLICK* *SLIDE*
RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA! *CLICK* *SLIDE*
RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA! *CLICK* *SLIDE*
RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA! *CLICK* *SLIDE*

If the crowd wasn't shocked before they absolutely were after exhibiting the gun's rapid fire capabilities. Isak unloaded 115 rounds within less than half a minute, swiftly exchanging magazines while all bullets hitting the target. Of course after withstanding over a hundred shots the entire dummy turned into scrap and mincemeat, plainly demonstrating the weapon's awesome power. "This is what they call a Sturmgewehr, common for all Outlander warriors. As you can see this weapon has firepower superior to our volley guns while it's actually lighter than even a Grond. Each Outlander effectively carries a portable artillery which can decimate entire companies of our own warriors. Terrifying, isn't it?"

"Don't believe him! This is a trick! It must be a trick! It's just a-" Vito was in complete disbelief, desperately trying to deny what he saw. Yet his words got deafened by the noise of another gunshot, this time aimed at him. To be precise at his finely decorated hat. Just one shot, swiftly aimed 2 inches above his head. The bullet hit the golden crest, punching a hole clean through it.

"It is no trick, I'm afraid. Now, let's talk about our next plan of action..." Leon casually continued, knowing full well he just saved Nilberg from a terrible fate.

XX / XX / XXXX

It has been six months since we've arrived, and I've yet to get a good night's sleep. Its funny how the soothing breeze of the sea and the calm swaying of trees unsettle me, compared to the desolate chimes of the air and desperate wailings back on Earth. It still feels surreal; phantasmal even, that the images I've seen only in my tablet growing up, are now what comprises the scenery that I wake up to each day. If only Lyla was still alive to see it.

To be honest, I'm still not sold to the idea of writing this diary, but Thaddeus insists I do it. "For the sake of human sanity and history!" he said. I'm sure this is just one of his experiments, or one of his ways to get back to me after he lost that bet. Though I may not be onboard with the whole idea, I do find solace that I can share my thoughts without the fear of judgement. I just have to make sure I hide this well from Thaddeus.

Tomorrow's a big day for the R&D department, they've apparently found new flora that are safe to consume for us "Earth-worlders". They've planned on cultivating them on Isle 4 once they've finished running all of the tests. I'm happy that hope for us to rebuild glimmers each passing day. The road is long, but we're getting there.

Page 3

---

User: Franz Thorsten
Designation: Chief Director


[2.1] New World - Month 0
- Resupplied in Singapore. All ammunition reserved for the supposed assault operation on Perth's oil platform was loaded into The Pearl. Protectorate bases will reduce to 25% of their original manpower as all personnel will be funneled to the port in Manila for their eventual trip to the New World. All Protectorate subjects are given full autonomy; expecting raider groups to take hold of these territories after three months.
- Forward Fleet: The Pearl, 2 Transport Ships, 4 Fishing Ships
_{Entry submitted by: F. Thorsten (04/23/XXXX)}

[2.2] New World - Month 1
- Arrival was met with unfavorable weather. Fleet ventured northeast as a mysterious fog blockaded the southern seas. Fleet made land on an island in the middle of a bay; crew called it New Manila, and established foundations for a temporary HQ. Architects and engineers were given the order to map out plans for a permanent base setup.
- Island turned out to be settled by a local population of "humans". These humans are technologically inferior and doesn't speak any of our known language, but seems to have the speech patterns with ours. Communication and relations are being established while forward patrols map out the surrounding area.
_{Entry submitted by: F. Thorsten (05/29/XXXX)}

[2.3] New World - Month 2
- Protectorate made hostile contact. Patrols returning to the island were followed by a collection humanoid species affiliating themselves the "Dominion". Attempts to de-escalate the situation failed as one of the crew in the wooden ships fired an arrow that struck window of the patrol boat. Carrier guns were given clearance to fire, sinking five ships while letting the sixth escape, only to be followed. Sentinel squads were left on the island to protect the natives and the base, while The Pearl followed the escaping ship to port.
- The Pearl arrived on a port city south of the island. The settlement appeared rich and well fortified - in medieval standards. As soon as the carrier positioned to blockade the port, wooden ships were sent counterattack. This effort failed as Directress Guevarra sent out the Apaches to respond. Ships were neutralized in less than ten minutes, while the port city was blockaded.
- [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] team were covertly sent to the city to do recon and sabotage. Efforts were highly successful as the enemy barracks and armory were destroyed. Strange rock formations that appeared humanoid were seen entering the city while extracting the covert forces.
- Dominion casualties numbered into hundreds after another attempt to drive the carrier out of the bay ended with Protectorate forces laying fire on a Dominion fleet carrying military forces for boarding purposes.
_{Entry submitted by: F. Thorsten (06/30/XXXX)}

[2.4] New World - Month 3
- Protectorate establishes a foothold in the city, securing a compound near the commercial sector of the city. Construction teams were sent to fortify the position while being escorted by six sentinel fire teams. Armor support were transported as well in response to the arrival of sizeable military forces entering the city.
- Breakthrough in communication is achieved after learning the advanced native speech from the native human settlers in New Manila. This led to a ceasefire between Dominion and Protectorate forces.
- Both parties sign the "Protectorate Accord" - an agreement that lifts the blockade of the port city, cessation of armed encounters, and grants the safety and freedom of Protectorate forces in Dominion territory. Captured territory will remain in Protectorate control, in exchange for a monthly portion of the Protectorate's yield in fishing.
_{Entry submitted by: F. Thorsten (07/29/XXXX)}

[2.5] New World - Month 4
- Access to purified water and better cooking methods garnered the favor of the local human population. Some expressed to "follow" the Protectorate, but are kept in an arms length, until their language is understood better.
- Six striders were sent on missions in the mainland to map out the surrounding area, along with some locals serving as guides.
- Educators in the Protectorate's ranks expressed their intent on teaching some of the locals basic education, to help improve relations and as reparation for the damages done. Idea was presented to Dominion representatives, and was approved. Dominion dedicated an establishment near the Protectorate compound as a public learning center. First participants to the program were Dominion intellectuals who also wanted to learn more of Earth culture.
- Petition to teach "meme culture" was denied.
_{Entry submitted by: F. Thorsten (08/29/XXXX)}

[2.6] New World - Month 5
- Island fortifications were completed, thanks to the supplies gained from the exchange with Dominion merchants. Island settlers are now being trained to act as reserve militia in the event the island is attacked. Irrigation was also introduced, helping some of the settlers grow food efficiently.
(Note: R&D department to study local flora for consumption compatibility)
- Port city compound reinforced. Protectorate presence on the mainland increases as tension between the Protectorate and Dominion dissipates thanks to trade and the education program.
_{Entry submitted by: F. Thorsten (09/28/XXXX)}

[2.7] New World - Month 6
- Four out of the six striders reported in, giving the Protectorate a detailed view of the surrounding lands. Information about the existence of other nations were also provided.
- Increased number of citizen enrollees have flocked the learning center. Merchants have shown positive support to Protectorate actions that more resources are now readily available for trade.
- Protectorate acquires Stone Golems from the Dominion. These constructs are now being studied alongside Dominion artificers who are keen on learning ways to further improve their creations.
- Final stage of the migration from Earth to the New World is reached. Awaiting the arrival of the last batch of Protectorate personnel and assets.
_{Entry submitted by: F. Thorsten (10/30/XXXX)}

---

The last two months have been something of a mixed bag, and in more ways than one. The 2 destroyers you wanted are approved to have come through the gate in the 2 months, but won't exist IC until we get the details worked out.

Despite continuing trade with Addacia, a small group of the slavers you have been trading with by this point have become a bit too wary of you and your people over time. Tales of the devastation of the capital of the Qalyxhian Elves has by this point well spread to them, and your attempts to build up rapidly have not gone unnoticed. Thus a few have begun to hike prices for less slaves (if not stop trading with you) due to these things and other unsavory rumors. At the moment your trade of slaves has been reduced to about 75% of what it once was. The short-wave radio you gave Addacia was also accidentally dropped in the water and lost in the depths amidst all of this by a frightened flunkie.

Likewise, your hauls of fish are distinctly below average. Not enough for your people to starve, but you are notably tighter on how much you can viably trade with Addacia at this point in time.

Your harvest of tropical crops has not exactly gone ‘as planned’, as a minor plague seems to have begun to sweep over the edible plantlife in the area you live in. Strange, black, almost goopy-looking fungal material can be found growing on the plants and decaying the edible fruits and plants locally. It is a rather localized thing at least, and as other nearby locals assure it will only last for a minor time period...though they warn you to not try to eat the fungus either.

Seems it comes out and grows in great bursts every so many years, messing up a local area but eventually going away naturally. This means fishing is the more viable food-gathering option, and trading for food from other land areas is feasible, but anything you ‘might’ attempt to harvest from the land at this time will not be seen as acceptable in New World Markets due to the risk the fungus on it poses.

Whilst work on constructing bases of operations both major and minor have laid their foundations and begun to build up somewhat, though are a good ways from complete, which is a good start to expanding operations at least.

Yet your attempts to bulldoze the jungles to get more farmland have ground down to a temporary halt as issues from these operations are brought up. Dangerous animals, stirred up by your work, have begun to steal food from your people in the night. They avoid the fungus-infected local fruits and such, however, and more so like to slither and mull and sneak about your docks at night to try to get into food containers for something to find anything they can eat. Some try to rest in the nooks and crannies of wherever you might be storing food. Some are poisonous, others venomous, and most are overall a bit too dangerous and hungry to just shoo away like a harmless pest. It is a problem you now face, and if allowed to continue could potentially spread to the population if these creatures are not handled well.

However, you have also managed to announce to the rest of the nations here from Earth that you basically are guaranteeing Addacia against other Earth-sider nations and any of their negative actions against Addacia. However you also notice Addacia seems to be preparing for...something? Either way they seem to be making naval preparations and reinforcements that aren’t entirely settling or unsettling either direction. More of their ships sails on patrol and more of their troops patrols the shores for sure. Their trade with you remains in place overall, but how will you handle this?

Yet on the other hand the nation of Rumayana has, as of late, sent a diplomatic envoy to discuss potential relations with you!

---

Your efforts to establish a military base away from your ‘city’ in order to store vehicles, house soldiers, and contain military supplies has gone splendidly well! In record time you have managed to build up most of a facility and get many supplies and personnel and the like put there. Whilst not fully-fleshed out, the basic structure and security measures ensure it is a fortified position at the very least. A nice local advantage.

Further, a merchant from Astrya has come to your people to try to make a bargain. He comes with an offer to sell some seemingly live fish from a few water-filled wagons he carries! The name it has locally is “Kireetak”, a very gamey and salty/mineral-y fish due to being a bottom-feeder in the shallows of the saltwater ocean ‘peninsula’ of water that juts into the lower Astryan lands. Apparently some local from that particular area of coast, such as the merchant’s family, have farmed and fed this type of fish on food scraps and such to fatten them up as reliable water-dwelling livestock. If you bought these, then over time you’d surely be able to supplant some land farming with this and better make use of the ocean space around much of your border.

But despite the friendliness of this merchant and his deal, the Kingdom of Astrya has blocked you from further land expansion. Any farther to the south and you would immediately barge outright into Astryan lands! Their people seem wary enough of you and other “Outlanders” thus far, given the stories and rumors about other Outlanders thus far, and an armed border has been formed with your people to maintain security. They don’t seem to be more than standard feudal-type troops, but they have begun to slowly build some kind of wooden-stake palisade and simply-made watch tower on the border to mark where their own territory begins. Some of your people find this...uncomfortable, and the warhawks of your government seemed to gain a little traction and increased ferocity from this. However, the Astryans do not seem to be preparing for any sort of offensive war at all...rather just building up a general manner of increased defenses as if they actually fear being attacked.

The Romulus has managed to, however, make contact with the Addacians and Astryans. The latter are willing to...begin talks of negotiation, but you can tell they are nervous about you regardless due to activities on your land border. You also find some loose unaffiliated groups and tribes and villages and towns and the like in the land between Rumayana (who has sent a diplomat to try to forge relations with you), Addacia, and the Nilberg Confederacy. Some along that line of coast are outright hostile to you, others are willing to do a rather small amount of trade to avoid getting the ‘look’ from their own neighbors, and a few simply handed over a small tribute of supplies for you to leave them in peace. You haven't seen deeper inland in that particular area, but at least you know what is there and have a better idea of how not everyone hates you at least.

---

Over the last two months, your people have found themselves sitting upon a future bountiful harvest indeed! Initial farmland distribution and sowing efforts have begun to show rather exceptional potential, proving that the grounds you are on are very fertile and cultivate-able indeed. However, unless a small bit was initially planted on first arrival it will take time for all the new land crops and farms to grow food in proper enough amounts. However, the promise of a superb later harvest this year seems very much certain at this point in time. All you have to do is wait for it. However, this has led in some part to some civilians scrambling to become farmers...and one or two areas of illegal planting that have been discovered outside of any designated places by overexcited people among other such little issues now trying to squirm out of the woodwork after the news of the fertility of the land got out. It isn’t too much problem with these small ones, but if left to their own devices it could spiral further perhaps. However, you also find a great abundance of edible fish living in great schools off of your shores to boot! What luck!

Likewise, one day you found that several great ships were sailing up to your ports! Upon them were not soldiers, however, but missionaries from the nearby Kyrosian Empire preaching about the “Great Will of Kyros” and trying to spread their religion to the people. They also brought several gifts for you people and government, including a bit of food and even several artistic items or fancy jars for storing things and ornate religious depictions otherwise. While their ships are reminiscent of iron/bronze age sailing vessels, and their art at least similar to such artifacts of Earth’s ancient history, it seems to be a friendly welcome nonetheless. A religious welcoming, but a warmer one! A few of these missionaries have even petitioned to stay among your people to help educate and teach more about the land you are on.

However, your presence has angered a rather large gathering of tribes just beyond your northern border. Where you live was once the sacred grounds of their also-tribal ancestors, and beyond that was seen as an area they could migrate to in times of famine or great danger. With some kind of local tribal war having seemingly occurred near them, your people settling in the lands they have has cut this confederation of tribes off from a safe haven. Whether you want to attempt diplomacy or not, they and your own population have begun to get very very heated on your borders and the issue is beginning to rapidly spiral. Some on either side have stolen food, burnt homes down, and even killed a few of each other in the process. None know who first incited the violence, however, but it isn’t looking good. Even a few living on your side of the border have also fallen suddenly and very strangely ill, and no medical means can seem to pin down or stop the cause beyond treating symptoms to some extent...there seems to be no scientific means to explain it really.

If war were to kick off, you would naturally have the superior weapons...but the number of these tribes confederated together just beyond your border is deep in at least the 10’s of thousands.

---

Your 1 whaling and 1 transport ship have arrived after these two months, and a canning facility has been just barely brought into a basic ‘operational’ capacity at the least...but that is perhaps the one good thing that has happened in these last two months.

Your attempts to improve existing facilities continue to just drag out longer than planned, remaining in-progress as a mixture of terrible weather, a misallocation of resources, unpredictable spots of terrain or wildlife, and other little troubles plague efforts like a disease. You can see hope in the distance for it to get better, but the start in these regards is still rough even if it WILL still be finished at some point in the future.

However, one big problem has opened up right on your doorstep to boot. On your northernmost island, a strange rippling portal tore open in the air. It happened out of the blue and in the middle of the night, and out of it came streaming crimson red hellish-ooze and a stream of demons. In other words, that island is now the source of a small but very real demon incursion into the New World. That isn’t very good. The numbers of demons would come to overwhelm even your modern weapons as they died by the droves, but in the end the island would be unable to be held. A few hours later anyone left from that island, armed or otherwise, would soon come fleeing back to your main base of operations on ship and in a messy/wounded hurry. Any locals there and citizens left behind have been most likely slaughtered or worse by this point.

On the bright side, you will eventually finish improvement of the facilities, and your fishing capacity has been increased alongside transport capacity as of most recently. You seem to have some decent relations with the Dominion, but for the most part locals living on your islands have basically turned their attention wholly to the demon inclusion...and for a good reason. A few demons have begun to adapt to the water that you can see from long-distance observation, but not many. Yet if the portal on that island is not taken care of and these things and ooze keep streaming out things could become that much WORSE. It is a major problem even New World nations can’t abide, as it will become a threat to more and more as the incursion expands...albeit much more slowly than it ‘could’ have due to its size.

So in this silver lining you will find some temporary allies who would be more than happy to take on the demon inclusion to help stop it. The Gatekeepers have even already sent word that a ship will be coming within the month to provide bombardment support, and sent out a small bounty of 2 free medium-sized ocean-sailing troller fishing vessels each to all human nations that send support to this event. You simply have to hold on for dear life until reinforcements or non-enemies come to fight the incursion.

---

Whilst attempting to deal with the issues surrounding the King of Qalyxh and the elves, you have managed to send a diplomatic party to approach the humans now occupying the capital (will be posted in collab). However, back home there is a mixed bag of events that have been going down among your people.

Your people have managed to produce a minor food surplus, whether it was through fishing, farms have an abnormally higher output of crops, or even harvesting efforts in some areas going just a little beyond the normal. It isn’t much of a surplus at all, but it is one that at least actually somewhat helps much with the refugee situation and feeding your own people. The price of food has become lower in your lands somewhat for the moment being as well among merchants, which has further pushed just a small few farms out there to plant more crops slightly late or at the last second with hope for an even better harvest later on this year.

However, on the other hand some of the elven refugees have begun to create…’issues’ within Rumayana’s population. Whilst many have been trying to participate or work with things, some groups of others have begun to pop up with rage in their hearts. “Down with the humans” some cry, “We need to go to war against the barbarians!” cries others. It has created a moderate, but not major, bit of social unrest coursing among some populations of the immigrants. It isn’t a major movement, but the risk to your own people is apparent as the unrest of a number of immigrants rises and rises even now.

---

Your move to send merchants and diplomats and envoys to contact the Outlanders in the occupied Qalyxhian Elf capital of Ocia has been sent...but the result have yet to be seen and the fleet yet to come back (aka: ping me and we’ll do a collab of that event for this turn).

Likewise, your attempts to reinforce the coast by bolstering naval defenses and ports and making fortifications and towers and stockpiling food and other resources in limited ‘war’ preparations has been going along very well by this time. Being so large-scale the process isn’t yet totally complete, but it has definitely had some rather good effect and is very much visible by now. Some citizens have increased fears or reassurances based on what you are doing, and the issues with any slavers (see Spiff’s events at the top of this post) have come to your attention to boot.

This doesn’t help as you find yourself in a below average status in fishing and food harvest at this point in time...not enough to endanger the population in any notable way food-wise, but enough to make them even more wary and nervous alongside the war preparations and the Outlander rumors and the like. The price of food has also gone up some locally to boot. However, a few independent villages to your north have begun to open up more for trade and have an abundance of food. It won’t solve all of the below average harvesting/fishing results, but it will ease it a bit more moving into the future.

---

Over the last two months your people have managed to avoid their government declaring war on the Outlanders so far, and that alongside your fears have somehow become a boon to you. A small number of the more fearful independent villages and tribes and such just beyond your western border have banded together and desperately petitioned for incorporation and protection after they got word of Outlanders searching along the coast to the West. It would add some more revenue and potential supplies/resources to Nilberg’s coffers to be sure, and a small increase to population and potential recruits for mercenary companies, though the new land would have to be sorted out to one party or another and the like.

Regardless, how you make of this boon is left to you. But to shake away such a great potential to lightly expand without deterrent or war in such times as these is a tempting one for many and that very few could ever hope to get.

Likewise, your attempts to gather intelligence have initially turned out somewhat generally successful! You can generally tell where the Outlander nations to your west are, and generally recognize they aren’t necessarily all working together, and likewise news of an Outlander colony to the north of the Dominion (along with the small demon incursion there) has reached your ears before it got to some of your southern neighbors. Likewise, you can just barely figure it out that the nation of Telczan is preparing for war (or just getting read for a potential war, you don't know for sure).

---

You have managed to send out messengers to several of the Outlander nations in order to meet the newcomers to this world (@Sophrus@Spiffy@Dog). Whether this will establish friendly relations or lead to more negative consequences is ultimately up to those parties, however, and how you’ve approached them. (Aka: You all decide how that first contact with each other went down.) As such it can’t be said it was a distinct failure nor a distinct success, being a very neutral type of event overall.

Likewise, your efforts in preparing for war have gone exceptionally well thus far! The prepping and creation of a new batch of fleshcrafter creatures has gone better than expected, increasing the amount produced! Likewise the gathering of resources and channeling of supplies in preparation for potential war has gone very smoothly and efficiently. Your efforts haven’t gone highly noticed by nations far from you as of yet, as far as you know at the very least, though some of your closest neighbors can at least tell that you are building up to some end or another.

---

Your work at making a “five year plan” for future development and growth has been generally successful, laying out some generally good ideas for how your colony will expand as it grows. Though beyond this, you one day find that a small traveling merchant caravan from the neighboring Republic has decided to come set up on your doorstep! He and his people offer some general services at least, ranging from smithing to selling locally-produced food to you, and sometimes on more rare occasions bring in some goods brought to the ports of Grenacie from afar. It isn’t a massive boon, but if you are willing to pay them to stay and treat them well they seem inclined to stay and do consistent business with you! Definitely is something to think about.

Likewise, a “Battlemage” of Astrya has arrived at your camp during this two month period! She is attempting to seemingly gather information, though through magic translation you can understand that her nation is a bit nervous with other Outlanders having settled just to their north. She comes across as professional, though the seemingly tame great beast she has with her (see first GM post) is a new and frightening sight to your people for sure. Whether you allow her more or less access or let her gather more information or try to kick her out is up to you, but she has made it clear she is a formal envoy from a nation to the north of Grenacie.

However, late in the night you do notice something else altogether going on. Little creatures are seen sneaking about your food stores at night, bat-lemur-like creatures locals call ‘Tribbit’. They generally eat fruits and plant seeds and a small omnivorous diet, and it seems this particular colony has started living near you and has been sneaking into your food stores to get a bite to eat! They are harmless creatures for the most part, could be chased off if caught in the act, but if you get near their vulnerable young they do get very defensive. Some seem to find their appearance ‘adorable’ to boot.

The Principal Admiralty of Maine is stationed on and around a nearby archipelago, so the boat sent to them as a diplomatic party consists of one indaj and a few kobolds, with no elves present as part of the part.

The diplomats are escorted to the Admiralty's flagship the P.A.S. Jackson to meet with a linguist and and the Vice Admiral Barnabas.
Once the envoy is present, they attempt to reach basic understanding of Rumanayan language.

All Rumanayans are impressed with the ship and how it floats despite being metal, especially at least one kobold who can't get enough of all the technology. That's a given, of course.
Once they're in the room and visual greetings have been offered, the indaj, a Priest of Peace, drops to one knee and begins what seems to be a prayer, whilst the kobolds work on helping transcribe all three languages once they figure out what is happening. Some time later, the Priest begins to apparently speak in the Admiralty's tongue fluently, despite the obvious initial issues. Writing remains relatively incoherent, but talking with them and sorting those things out is now much simpler, even if the humans still need to go through the indaj to communicate with the kobolds.



The vice admiral will offer a military salute and inquire their intentions.

Their intent is simply to extend a hand of friendship, as a starting point. It's certainly unusual to have new groups in the area, especially humans bearing what seem to be vessels and equipment of... the phrase that comes out is "unusual potency", but it's fairly obvious the concept of modern technology is slightly difficult for the Priest to comprehend.

Barnabas accepts the hand of friendship, and offers an official naval ballpoint black pen to the priest.
He asks afterward if his nation would be kind enough to help deal with their fungus problem on their various islands regarding their crops. It has been decimating their viability. Not to mention the pests eating their own stores of food, some dangerous and poisonous.

The pen is much too small for the indaj to use effectively, and a little large for the kobolds; still, it's handed to one of the more excited kobolds, who immediately gets to work examining it in as much detail as possible with a big toothy grin.
As for the fungus and pest issue, the Priest says they can't make any promises, but that they could certainly petition a Priest of Nature or two to come and examine the issue and see what can be done, if anything.

The vice admiral seems a little skeptical of the idea that a priest could somehow solve the issue. However, with the recent demonstration of language discernment he accepts. Then he inquires what the Republic of Rumanaya would like in return.

When the Priest mentions the idea of an exchange to his allies- notably addressing them with much different vocalisations than he uses toward the Vice Admiral, in reality a different tongue outright for the discerning- there's immediately a lot of chatter from the kobolds, especially the couple who have taken apart the pen. Shortly, the Priest suggests that whilst they'd be happy to help either way, perhaps some of their people- kobolds, specifically- might be permitted to examine certain aspects of their technology with supervision, and perhaps be granted an explanation of what, exactly, brings the Admiralty and others like them to their lands?
There is not, to wit, necessarily an understanding yet that the modern humans are literally off-worlders, at least from this Priest, but the request for what brings them there isn't conveyed with suspicion in the phrasing.

Barnabas discusses for a few minutes with advisors and begins speaking into some kind of box. Faint sounds come from it, but not discernable at their distance. After another few minutes he turns away from it. Then he addresses his guests:
"The Admiral wishes for the fungal and pest problems to be neutralized. In exchange for your assistance he offers you the chance to examine our fishing craft top down. In addition, we offer you a "communication box" or as we call "radio." With it we can contact you from a distance." A female naval officer steps into the room with a brown box, with a metal line sticking from the top. She places it on the table in front of your group. Then she begins basic instructions on how to use it - it is a short wave radio, designed to send and receive messages from a short distance.
"In regards to our origin, we would rather build trust between our nations before we reveal anything. The alternative is to simply make something up. However, our people do not tolerate deception. You understand, don't you?"

The Priest nods affably. They aren't a people who like to deceive others, themselves; one of the cores of a solid family is to ensure everybody is on the same page, after all. In any case, they thank the Vice Admiral and his crew for the gift and the opportunity, and agree to do what they can to help end the issues they're having with fungus and pest alike.

T.P.A.
Fleet Log of Cpt. Jackari Coleson

We began began work in cleansing the crop yields of our island holdings. The fungal problem was sprayed with chemicals to limit the spread. Even emissaries from Rumanaya were petitioned to help aid in the removal of it by a priest. The priest would not arrive for some time if at all. It seems like a bunch of bunk to me. Talking elephants? But sure enough they exist.

As for the pest problem, our "indentured workers" or whatever sanitized name we give them were tasked with clearing out the deadly pests with primitive weapons and nets. The larger threats were taken down by human weaponry. Rumanaya was likewise asked for help as well in this area. We'll see if it bears fruit.

The supposed demonic portal that opened on the Protectorate’s island did not go unnoticed either. The Principal Admiralty and The Protectorate were doing joint exercises at the time of the intrusion. A single destroyer with 100 regular soldiers, and 50 gene modified ones were in the vicinity. The flagship carrier the P.A.S. Jackson was called to provide aid in closing the portal. It would take time to arrive, but when it did it would unleash a hell of its own with it’s powerful cannons. Demonic or not I would not want to be on the receiving end of the 406mm cannons.