[IC] Sword and Shields - Medieval Warfare

[HazmatMedic]

(Though I'd start on fairly neutral grounds.)

"Come on, you two, we'll be late"
The streets of Arakion were always teeming with people this time of year. Tourists filled every corner of every road, making it impossible to get anywhere. Unless, of course, you were Lady Faelen.
The word "Lady" was more than tinged with irony. Faelen was not "lady-like" at all. She was not refined, nor was she elegant. Don't get it wrong, she was polite and friendly, but she certainly wasn't "Lady" material. Instead, she was bouncy, cheerful and very active. She never walked, she skipped and hopped. She always had a smile on her face, and she had the sweetest giggle. No, Faelen was not what one would consider a "Lady" in any respect.
A little way behind her, Lady Pinkara and Lord Tailin followed the paths their companion seemed to cut through the crowded streets.
"Why does she have to go on ahead like that?" Pinkara sighed "We're going to end up losing her someday"
Tailin smiled and shook his head. "Not likely. She'd come running back if she realised we weren't behind her"
"Not to mention we could follow the smell." Pinkara took a sniff of the air. Other than the typical city smell, there was a distinctly sweet scent. She didn't know what it was Faelen used as a perfume, but it smelt faintly of sugar and cinnamon. Maybe it was some foreign stuff from the Stomian Empire or from Khaydah. Whatever it was, she liked it.
"Come on, slowpokes!" Faelen called, not even slowing down slightly. She was going to this dance and if the others didn't want to come, fine. They could go and sit in their boring old palace while everyone else was out having fun.
"I guess we'd best catch up" Tailin sighed, before breaking off into a sprint. Pinkara ran after him, praying she wouldn't lose both of them.

[gowia]

"And in the words of his lord, so sayeth the man who leads others unto his sin, I am their shepherd and their deeds are mine."

Lamps lit the White Palace up like a night sky, each one glittering and making the marble seem even more angelic than the sculpture and decoration did already. The red robes of the ten Marshals floated silently across the floor as they placed the monthly offerings onto the altar in the ceremonial way. Doge Rudun was supposed to be there however the ceremony was not public and so he felt no obligation to, he was busy dealing with the politics of the day so that the Emperor could carry out what was best for the nation and the church. The first order of business was of course the capitalist rebels. They had been hounding Empire since the split and they were becoming bolder in recent days. Farm houses and smithies were being burnt down weekly and it was costing the Empire deeply. The Inquisition had been given a vast sum of money in terms of their budget and they were requesting that more men be sent to assist in the 'recovery' of certain suspicious individuals. He signed the paper quickly and put in to one side, the Inquisition were good at their jobs and he knew they would find the ring leaders. The next was from the delegation in the Deauxerran League, Halosim had always been a tough pill for them to swallow, now it seemed their cities were beginning to taint it to suit their own needs and that was not acceptable to the Empire. The delegation was requesting that the Inquisitor present be allocated some funds to allow for the indirect control of their church. The Doge was never fond of this, he of course wanted to see Haloim in it's purist form however the Inquisitors were not known for their gentleness and business in other countries always had to be done as quietly as possible.Quickly looking over a budget report he pulled out funds for the job and allocated it to a trading caravan for the delegation to aid 'church renovation'. The money would really be paying for bribes and muscle to firstly isolate the churches that still follow a pure version of Haloism and then begin installing leaders of other churches that also follow the true version. Finally a Marshall arrived at his door beckoning for him, it was time for him to preach to the masses. He signed his last letter and left. The letter read as follows.

To: All nations of this world that follow the one true faith,
From: His Holiness, Doge Rudun of the Holy Stomian Empire and the Haloist Order.

His holiness has requested your presence of all of the leaders of those glorious nations that follow the one true faith in the Summer Festivat. A grand feast will be held at the White Palace before sermons will take place to thank the lord for his bounty. Finally the leaders will be blessed with holy water before talks with the Doge and the Emperor may begin about other topics that may come up.

[Innovative Engimas]

To: All nations of this world that follow the one true faith,
From: His Holiness, Doge Rudun of the Holy Stomian Empire and the Haloist Order.

His holiness has requested your presence of all of the leaders of those glorious nations that follow the one true faith in the Summer Festivat. A grand feast will be held at the White Palace before sermons will take place to thank the lord for his bounty. Finally the leaders will be blessed with holy water before talks with the Doge and the Emperor may begin about other topics that may come up.

--Imperial Castle--
Varik loosed smug smile as he read the invitation, more so amused than anything else, more at the talk with Doge and Emperor. Such a perverted religion. Committing such atrocities under the guises of peace and religion, it was laughable. Stroking his goatee it was simply too much, though the woman across the chess table looked at him slyly. A buxom beauty of forty that retain her youthful look from her twenties.

"Do tell dearest cousin what is find amusing."Emrie, spoke as she moved the high decorated knight onto a white square.

"The Stomians have sent this invitation to all those the follow the Hailost religion. Though I do suppose I will go considering I have a small sect of these helots in our country." Handing the invitation to Lady Emrie, afterward grasping a purple apple. One of the few thing they could grow, as he studied the board intently.

Lady Emrie loosed the same smug based smile she had witnessed on Varik's face. "I see your amusement cousin, it is laughable but what if they dare try to kill you?"

"They won't and if they do it's an excuse for war. Happening in their city under the guise of religion, all the world would see their shame for letting a leader perish in their good hands. Though I would be taking Mariet with me to see if I can procure some other allegiances in the south, that is if she finds herself a man with such a worth. I would leave the throne to you in my absence, my sons are playing there game, so I will let them for their own amusement." Kill all questions, her ladyship might have. Finishing the apple before tossing of the balcony.

" And our other interests?" Emrie spoke watching him move the rook to take the knight.

" Well The Deauxerran League is of no concern I found other means. Revoking iron and steel shipments from them and the Stomians, extra shipments are going out to others. The Judicai are proceeding a planned and the sixth legion is in a training exercise. That all dearest?" Varik asked.

"It is." Moving the king to take the rook. "Stalemate." Smirking as she got up passing by Varik but not before whispering something in his ear. "The door will be unlocked." Each loosing grins before departing each others company.

--Southern Borders--

Supreme Judicator Viktor Hicroat was not only a prominent lord but also a master of his work. A master zealot to the Borvan Dynasty, but also a ruthless and gruesome man. In his private abode outside Hokum, monitoring the spread of religion and incoming caravans from the Stomians. This time a priest, a little extreme but the offenses he piled up was more than the Judicator could abide by.

"This time you are charged with the following: Preaching in a public forum, Converting openly, Speaking against the Emperor, and Spitting open other peoples faiths. All of these are second offense and I won't bring you back a third time. How do you plead?" Seeing the man being ready for quartering. But all he received was a spit in the face.

"So be it." Nodding and as he did the Judicai whipped the horses to pull. The screaming hadn't started yet but it would soon enough. Muscles started tearing bone cracking. In a moments notice the legs and arms were torn, rivers of blood flood from the the arm and leg sockets.

"Give the body to the wolves."

[TheSovereignGrave]

---The Grand Malaky Palace, Amrah---

"His holiness? Bah, I pray for the day that pretender dies and suffers an eternity of torment for his perversion of Hamud's holy words," said an elderly ajar, dressed in little more than a simple white robe, with his equally white hair tied together in a braid. He was standing on a balcony overlooking the great city of Amrah, the beautiful stone buildings and the green of gardens visible even from the distance. In the distance one could even make out the massive stone wall encircling the entire city, creating a sharp divide between the vibrant life of the city and the scorching death of the desert. This man was Baha al-Batabi, a Haloist ascetic and Uncle of the current Malik. But he was also a heretic, belonging to a sect that viewed the Stomian beliefs as perversions of the Prophet Hamud's words and the Doge as nothing but a corrupt pretender with no claim to dominion over Haloism. Granted, he kept these views secret from everyone but his close family; while 'heretic' points of view were legal by Khaydahi law if the Stomians in his nephew's court discovered his beliefs it could strain relations.

Beside Baha was his nephew himself, shaking his head and chuckling at his Uncle's words. Malik Sa'ah Mee'ah al-Maseebi found his Uncle's religious fervor amusing, but there was no denying that the man was wise. Sa'ah Mee'ah was attractive, at least by the standards of the ajar populace; he had deep red eyes and pitch black hair that fell down to his shoulders. He also had a distinctly angular face, with prominent cheekbones and sunken eyes. While normally he would be dressed in extravagant and exquisite clothing, and laden with jewelry and a turban he was currently wearing nothing but a white robe and a deep red out-robe, open and draped around his shoulders. After all, he was alone and in private with a family member, there was no reason to get all dressed up.

"I still have to go, you know," Sa'ah Mee'ah replied, still chuckling, "After all, it would be rude to decline and you know how I enjoy a good festival."

"Yes, you do enjoy them," Baha replied dryly, "A bit too much, if you ask me."

At that Sa'ah laughed out loud and put his arm around his Uncle's shoulder. "You can live like a monk if you want, but that doesn't mean everyone has to," he replied, "Besides, I have to attend things like that anyway. So I might as well enjoy them."

Baha shook his head before looking back at Sa'ah Mee'ah, "So what exactly did you call me here for? You seem to have already made up your mind about this, and you know my opinion."

"You think I should send back a letter saying 'go die in a hole you heretic scum'?" the Malik replied playfully.

"No, I agree that you need to go. As much as I despise the Doge and the Stomians it would not do well to insult them unless necessary."

"Well, I'm glad we agree on that," Sa'ah Mee'ah replied, then his tone became serious, "No, I came here to ask you to serve as regent while I am off in Stomia."

Baha began to protest, but Sa'ah Mee'ah cut him off. "Don't protest, I've already made my choice," he said, "You know I would trust you with anything, and you know as well as I do that people respect you. And just because you're serving as my regent doesn't mean you have to live like me."

Then the Malik laughed, and his previous jovial attitude returned, "Eat all the bread and water you want, it just leaves more meat and wine for me when I return."

Baha sighed and shook his head, knowing that arguing with his nephew was utterly pointless, "As you wish."

"Good, now come in and have a seat," Sa'ah Mee'ah said, gesturing to the archway leading back to his bedroom, "We haven't sat and just talked in forever."

Baha looked up into the sky, closing his eyes and murmuring a prayer before looking back at his nephew. "I am sorry, but I need time to prepare and think this over," he replied, "I may not have to make a choice, but I still need to prepare. You are planning on leaving as soon as you can, are you not?"

"Ha, you know me all too well," Sa'ah Mee'ah replied, "But I guess that makes sense. Stop by anytime, you may be a humourless old man but I enjoy talking."

Baha simply nodded his head before saying his farewells and heading back inside. Sa'ah Mee'ah stood there, looking out over his city thinking of the days to come. There would be the preparations for the journey of course, choosing who he would take with him, informing everyone that Baha al-Batabi was to be serving as regent whilst he was gone, packing his things, and the like. He had no qualms against the Doge, though he accepted him as his ruler as much as any Haloist in Khaydah might. Yes, he was the head of the Haloist Church, and thus a holy emissary, but here in the deserts of Khaydah he held little power. And the Malik was definitely looking forward to the feast more than the sermon or blessing. He just hoped it could compare to the feasts he held here in Amrah.

[Mista Slaya]

The Hold of Grimmanar
The King's Palace

King Thordrek Foesword finished reading the letter aloud and set it on the side table to his right. He strode over to the window overlooking Armgaudr's central plaza. He gently massaged his temples and contemplated the festivat. The oldest Dwarf present, a General named Dogthen Axeheart, rose and addressed his King. "My lord, if I may speak my opinion, I believe-" Thordrek quickly turned to the General and barked, "You may not give your opinion, as I did not ask for it!" The echoing silence that followed created enough tension that the Council Chamber Guards in the hallway shifted their footing. Thordrek snatched the letter back off the table and read again, " 'To all nations that follow the one true religion'," he snarled. "My father told these men that we would continue to worship our own, true Gods. They mean to mock us! I won't stand for it!" The King looked to Falan Orcspike, his friend and advisor. "What do you believe this means?" Falan, having a sly tongue, smoothly slid from his chair and moved to examine the letter, which the King had crumpled and thrown to the ground in his rage. As he restored the paper to legible condition, he read over the brief message. "Sire, perhaps they simply wish to conduct a conference, and wouldn't want a thief or pickpocket to get hold of this and know your personal business." Falan strode to the window. "I believe, your Majesty, that we should send in a politician and a guard detail, to see what the fuss is about." Thordrek nodded slowly. "Now, has anyone another say on the matter?" No one in the Council breathed a word. "Now then, let us put it to a vote. All those in favor of Politician Orcspike's plane, say aye." The entirety of the Council chorused 'Aye', and the meeting was dismissed.

In the wilderness, near the border of Aethinia

Baerya Metalworker sat in her home, looking over different smelting recipes given to her by one of her friends of Armgaudr's forging center. The recipe was for a shortsword. Baerya was quite fond of the short blades, getting up close and personal with those she had to fight. Her last sword broke, when she tried to prove to Jorn Firehammer, the governer of Gornae, that her swings could shatter stone. This was not the case. Now, required to forge her own blade, she had been pouring over different schematics for forging blades and settled on this one. As she was about to stand, there was an urgent knock on her door. Living alone amongst the mountains, no one ever came to visit her. When she opened the door, a Royal Messenger stood to attention and saluted. "Baerya Metalworker, Representative of the Outlying Villages, the King has requested your assistance," The Messenger held out a letter, and Baerya took the letter and opened it. As she did, a small paper fell out of the letter. She read over the request to come to the festivat, then looked at the King's request.

To: Baerya Metalworker, Representative of the Outlying Villages
From: King Thordrek Foesword

The Doge is once again requesting us to 'kindly' accept his religion as our own. I must ask you to go to the festivat and remind him of the deal made between my father, King Gornak Foesword, and himself. Please deal with this matter quickly. there will be a guard for your journey and stay in Calxus. Report to the Palace at your earliest convenience.
~Thordrek Duili Foesword

Baerya sighed. She had hoped that her days of being the ambassador for the King's every whim were over. She looked at the Messenger, who had stepped inside and closed the door. "Let me grab my things. I'll be going back to the palace with you." The Messenger nodded and stepped outside. Baerya put on her armor, which consisted of a leather tunic and leather greaves, chainmail gauntlets, and iron shoulder pauldrons and boots. She placed her cloak around her and strapped her replacement shortsword on her belt, and her arrow quiver and bow along her back. On her way out the dor, Baerya grabbed her Thranarum purse and stepped into the chilly air. As she mounted her horse, she nodded to the Messenger. "Let's go."

[Faulty]

The Most Serene City of Deauxerr
Deauxerr Proper
The Flamenois Palace

King Stefan II was, above all, a reticent and kindly man, as jovial as he was portly – and, indeed, the king was extremely portly. He was the type of monarch who would have been altogether too happy to neglect his duties and wile away his time in a garden, and to the extent it was there, in a small and floral courtyard of his palace, nose deep in the biting smells and bursting colours of a well-tended garden, that a knock on the door drew the careless king from his hobby and planted him most firmly in the world of reality. Only half turning to the door, he gave only a half wave, and went back to plucking with tender, if stubby, fingers at the thorns of a particularly vibrant flower, gently removing each green knife with a soft “och” and “ah” of appreciation as the de-thorning continued.

It was only on a second knock that it hit Stefan that, actually, doors are most certainly not transparent, and his distracted wave had been about as noticeable as an invisible fish swimming through an invisible lake shouting “I’m invisible” over and over again. With this newly discovered knowledge, then, Stefan diverted his whole attention to the heavy wooden door and adopted his regal voice, a slow and deliberate one which tickled his throat to use, and called out “You are recognised”, before quickly picking a rather noticeable piece of dirt from his walrus moustache.

Into the room strode a finely dressed man, one whose entire form seemed to battle with the shabby and dirty king. It would not be incorrect to say that this tall and angular man, with an expression so reminiscent of a hawk it would make you feel no more than a mouse, was a person of great warmth. Instead, he devoured the warmth and colour of any room he entered; he was a great vacuum, a colossal sponge, a prim and proper prick whose humour was only one level above terminal illness in its propensity for being utterly dull and completely unwanted. There was nothing about the pale pallor of his skin, or the rigidly styled black mess of his hair and goatee which could ever suggest to even the kindest of people that this was a person with whom you would want to be friends, and as the king unconsciously sucked in his gut and squirmed beneath the penetrating glare of the man’s eyes, Stefan suddenly considered that his life would be far easier if he were a hermit. Standing up then, to better meet the man, Stefan wobbled over to the far taller man, and, smiling broadly, clapped his hands together in a messy clasp that sent a small plume of dirt into the air, while also dirtying the man’s pristine white gloves.

“Dubois! Come in, man, come in! What’re you doing here? No, don’t say a word yet, you old sausage, what- what- what- have you seen Eleanor yet? She’s sung your praises for hours since your last visit,” a partial lie. In fact, Queen Eleanor had spent several hours vomiting after a poorly cooked meal during Archbishop Matthieu Dubois’ last arrival; Stefan was never quite sure the visit and the vomiting were totally unrelated.

For his part, Matthieu was quite ready to be dragged around the small enclosed garden of the palace, being pushed and pulled from one ornate marble pillar to the next with all the cold formality that the Archbishop of Deauxerr could muster. Eventually, however, with his white robes thoroughly soiled by the king’s grubby hands and his red stole rather crinkled, the king stopped parading his archbishop through his white-walled gardens and smiled regally. “Go on, then, Dubois, tell us what you came here for.”

“Your Majesty,” he said in his piercing tone, coupled with a deep bow, “a message came from the Holy Stomian Empire. The Consul of the League received the missive and had copies sent to you and the Kings of Aden. I’m sure that the other cities have received a copy also, though I struggle to see any of them responding.

The letter given to us is from Doge Rudun, and it is calling for a council of leaders of the Haloist faith.”

Passing the letter towards the king, Stefan read the message with a worried expression. He gave his round head a soft shake, scattering from his short blond hair a loose film of dust. “Oh dear… This sounds remarkable, doesn’t it? As head of the League’s faith, I suppose I should go, shouldn’t I? Oh dear oh dear, oh dear oh dear… Thank you archbishop, that- that- that- would you send a reply? I’ll write it, I just need you to send it. Excellent, wait outside my door, I’ll have it with you in a jiffy.”

With an apprehensive twirl, the king strode away to a small corner of the garden, where stood a large canopy under which there was a writing desk covered with paintings he had done. Pushing them aside, he took a quill and a blank sheet of paper, and, writing in the Deauxerran dialect of Stomian, engineered his reply, not eager to begin the preparations for his trip to the Empire.

Dear Doge Rudun;
It is a delight to be invited to your feast, and, standing as the Princep of the Deauxerran League, as well as King of Deauxerr, it is with great privilege and honour that I would very much like to accept your invitation with all grace.

Hoping this letter finds you in good health,
His Royal Highness, Defender of the Faith, by the Grace of Our Lord Atos, King of Deauxerr
Stefan II

[HazmatMedic]

Arakion Royal Palace

The sun rose over Arakion Royal Palace, highlighting the intricate carvings and tall columns that made up the marble wonder. There were doubtlessly taller buildings in Elkheim, hell, there were taller buildings in Arakion, but this was the one the commanded the most attention. Whether it was the proud flags that adorned the building or the gargoyles at the gates, no-one could pass the Palace without stopping for a moment to admire it.

High Lord Andohar sat on his balcony near the top of this stone marvel. Despite how early it was, he was already washed and dressed, and was presently leafing through an old book. In an hour or so, he would have to listen to some inane rambling about 'democracy' and 'freedom' that several members of the court had mystically got into their heads. For now though, he was content to bask in the sunlight.

"M-my Lord?"

Andohar didn't even raise his head "Good morning, Tailin. I trust last night was... eventful?"

Lord Tailin cursed. Last night certainly was eventful, but not in a good way. Nothing happened to him - he didn't really like alcohol and he was far too shy to hit on anyone - but Pinkara and Faelen were completely different stories. Fae had enough wine to sink a boat, and Pinkara must have seduced every man there, and a few women. It was all in good fun, of course, but nonetheless it wasn't how the Royal 'Family' should behave.

"Yes, sir, it was. I believe the Ladies are still in bed." he spluttered nervously.

"Indeed," Andohar nodded his head solemnly "and at what time did you get home?"

Tailin muttered so quietly, Andohar struggled to hear "I don't know, sir"

"So tell me, Lord Tailin," Andohar said menacingly, looking him straight in the eyes "Did you have fun?"

The younger Lord almost hit his superior "You swine! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Andohar chuckled loudly "All in good humour, Tail, all in good humour. I wanted to join you, but I had some things to look over here. Pink and Fae are still in bed, are they not?"

Tailin grimaced at the mention of his nickname "Yes, my lord. I don't think they have recovered from last night's festivities"

Andohar, still smiling, put his book to the side. "Ok, to business. You wouldn't normally enter my quarters unless you have something to say. So..."

"Of course, my lord. Brother-Captain Tarkin has informed me that the new recruits have arrived."

"Well, that's good. Do you have any news of our caravan?"

"I recieved a message before I went out last night that it has arrived safely and with no damage to its goods"

"Excellent. Our allies have made a wise trade. Is there anything else"

"Yes. We have intercepted this." Tailin handed the High Lord a letter "Well, intercept isn't quite the right word..."

Andohar opened the letter. Inside, it read

To: All nations of this world that follow the one true faith,
From: His Holiness, Doge Rudun of the Holy Stomian Empire and the Haloist Order

His holiness has requested your presence of all of the leaders of those glorious nations that follow the one true faith in the Summer Festival. A grand feast will be held at the White Palace before sermons will take place to thank the lord for his bounty. Finally the leaders will be blessed with holy water before talks with the Doge and the Emperor may begin about other topics that may come up

"What is this, Tailin? The one true faith? Haloist Order? Is this some kind of insult?"

"I don't know, my lord. It seems to be an invitation."

"And what of the messenger? Has he said anything?"

"My lord, the messenger had eaten a Taint plant. That's the only reason our men could recover the letter"

The Taint was a strange plant. It imitated a large, juicy red fruit, but to devour it was deadly. Many of the Enclave's warriors are those sent crazy by eating the unusual fruit.

"So one invite isn't going to reach its destination..." Andohar stroke his black goatee slowly, a million different things going on in his head. To go without invitation could be dangerous, but there was no better chance to study his neighbours over the border in their home territory.

"Thank you, Tailin. If there is nothing else..."

"No sir, there is not"

"Then may I respectfully ask you to leave? I have lots to think about."

"Of course." Tailin stood and bowed "I guess I'll see you later." And with that, the young lord left the room.

To: Doge Rudun of the most Holy Stomian Empire
From: High Lord Andohar of Elkheim

My apoligies at my somewhat unexpected response. I wish to ask you a few questions, however, pertaining to the meeting over Summer Festival. I was wondering whether it is acceptable for myself to appear, as I currently know little about Haloism. I believe if anyone can teach me about such a prominent religion, or indeed, even convert an Agnostic such s myself, it will be you. If I was to be converted, I believe this will improve my relations with both your own nation, which will surely aid us both, and the others that will appear.
Also, is it acceptable if I bring a close ally of mine?
With blessings from my house to yours
High Lord Andohar of Elkheim

[Titanic]

To: All nations of this world that follow the one true faith,
From: His Holiness, Doge Rudun of the Holy Stomian Empire and the Haloist Order.

His holiness has requested your presence of all of the leaders of those glorious nations that follow the one true faith in the Summer Festivat. A grand feast will be held at the White Palace before sermons will take place to thank the lord for his bounty. Finally the leaders will be blessed with holy water before talks with the Doge and the Emperor may begin about other topics that may come up.

The Miranli Palace looked over the city of Miranli. Even in the early morning, it was bustling with life. Creatures of all kinds but mostly humans roamed the streets, either heading for work or shopping at the markets. It was the heart of the Mirand Island Region, home of the humans of the Mirandil Dynasty. The city rested in a seemingly endless field, surrounded by farms. While at the heart, the palace stood high above the marble buildings. King Mirand was having breakfast with his family when a guard whispered to him "My King, a messenger has arrived with news from the Holy Stomian Empire."

"Can't this wait till I finish breakfast with my family?" says King Mirand XIII.

The guard heads back to the grand doors that were the entrance to the dining hall, it peeked open and there was a lot of bustling noise until it was closed and the guard came back. "My King, the messenger said this is urgent but I managed to convince him to wait till it's done."

Life was so much simpler when I was a young lad, thought the king to himself. "If it is so important then I shall meet with the messenger." Getting up, he says to his family "Would you please excuse me for a minute, I got a small matter to attend to." The guard follows him to the door, pushing it open for him.

"I sent him to wait in the courtyard." says the guard, looking to direct me to where he had left him, I say "I know the way, you can and shall go back to your regular duty."

When I arrive at the courtyard, I see a man dressed in a white robe. He doesn't say anything, just hands me a letter. After reading it I say "Thank you for delivering this um urgent letter. I shall address it with my council right away." The man doesn't say anything, he just heads away.

Meanwhile, in a small seduced building in the treetops of Vaja Island. King Aiden had already received the message and was discussing it with the head of his council, Eli.

"So Eli, what do you think this?" asks King Aiden.

"I think that little smug human who calls himself holiness of a fake religion should be ignored." says Eli.

"Why, my friend. you have always had a way with words. But I think, you should reconsider this. It would probably be better for the whole nation if I attended."

"Aiden, you should remember the reason why you picked me as your council head?"

"Saving my life and being a friend?" Aiden says jokingly.

"That and you learned that my instinct was never wrong. And I'm telling you that this is against my instincts and it's even worse with the common knowledge that the nation is racist against all non-human races."

"I still must go my friend. You know I must." Aiden tells Eli.

"But-"

"No buts, I have to go and thats the end of the matter."

While the elven and human king were discussing this matter with their own councils, on a mountain jutting out of the ocean that was called a Island, rested a tower. The tower was the mere tip of a palace as most of it was built into the mountain. The Queen of the Nesian Islands and most of the dwarf population had already read the response and was writing a message back.

To: Doge Rudun of the most Holy Stomian Empire
From: Queen Amanda of the Nesian Islands in the Kingdom of Mirandil

I would be delighted to attend this festival of yours as queen of the Nesian Islands. This is a great honor and privilege, I cannot wait.

The queen knew that she shouldn't attend this meeting but her husband had convinced her to, saying "It's for the good of the nation"

[So Boerd]

Roglagardr, Kjalmar

The message came as father and son were locked in a game of chess. Favored by sailors such as they for its complexity and length of game, chess offered them the best diversion when in the castle in the center of the city. Haakon and Karl were both cut of the same, martial cloth; each would rather be out in the herviki, the large complex outside of town where the soldiers up for training were to go. Each would rather drill and ever improve the military readiness of their beloved kingdom; Kjalmar had never known a foreign master and neither had any intention of being the weak link to allow that nightmare to materialize. Or else they’d be fishing on the Slagskepp, the four-masted flagship of the kingdom, while travelling between ports and overseeing the trade.

But, chess would have to do, that is, until this particular bit of excitement arose. The letter, intercepted by a pirate of the Victual Brothers, copied and the original re-sealed, spoke of an invitation to a summer festival, followed by sermons and a holy water blessing. The actual goings on were unimportant to the King, however the invited guests were the interesting element. Not “dignitaries”, not “ambassadors”, but the actual leaders of countries. The capture of any of them would yield enormous profit; it wasn’t called a “king’s ransom” nothing. He showed the letter to Karl, who read it and had an intrigued look upon his face.

“Son, you’ve been an excellent military mind, let’s see how you do at politics. I’m growing old; you will be king shortly. Tell me what you would do, were you me.”

Karl chuckled and tossed the letter on the table with his index and middle fingers. “I’d call the Captain-General of the Victual Brothers to the palace discreetly, inform him of this turn of events and instruct him to redirect all piracy around the most likely sea routes to the White Palace from several Haloist countries. Admittedly, it’s a wide net, but the sailors of Kjalmar are top-notch and a royal departure, particularly on religious grounds, is probably not going to happen without fanfare, so likely the Captain-General will have, leading his squadrons, trusted captains to intercept our own trade ships and interrogate them about departures without showing our hand. The sea’s the thing, where we shall catch the foolish kings. I would even give the Captain-General implicit authority, the authority of force, to impress smaller raiding parties into service for a period of time. ”

The King tapped the table “Exactly! You’ll make a fine leader of men. By God, last time we got a king, we were able to charge them 12 and a half tons of gold. That’s enough to buy a whole new fleet!” He opened the door and called the Captain-General in. Karl was bewildered.

“You knew about this the whole time?”

“Of course. It was night when I received the message, and I didn’t want to disturb you, and there wasn't time to wait. Nevertheless, you have passed.” Haakon gestured to the Captain-General, who despite carrying himself very soldierly, was also a bit perplexed at the situation. “Oh yes, I told the Captain-General the orders came from you.”

“I carried out your orders, Prince Karl sire…erm…before you issued them? Our fastest ships are being sent to the probable locations of our squadrons to give them new orders. Any raiding parties from the Kingdom are to be convinced with the promise of an unspecified big score, otherwise compelled. I am sure most would jump at the opportunity to work with us professionals. ”

Karl regained his composure, and smiled. “Excellent.” He turned back to the board. “Your move, father.”

[Innovative Engimas]

--Imperial Castle--
Emperor Varik arose from his chambers early riding out early was the best option but for now several letter needed the raven's wings. Keeping to an old tradition of mail instead of courier. So no detours would be made and its destination would be assured. First would be to the Czar Alik of Motova, he knew his father briefly for a time but never encouraged any further association for what ever reason of that time. A young monarch of a country much like his own, he felt like a hand should be extended to him. The burden of ruling at a young age proves taxing something he knew of all too well. Sealing the message before it was given to the flock master.

Imperial Emperor Varik Borvan VI
Czar Alik, this Varik Borvan VI it is a shame of your fathers passing I knew him in life though not as much as I'd like my sympathies for your grief. Soon if you have not already received a letter from the Stomians will be coming about Haloism and the summer festivals and I think it would deem it benefical we shared wine at the celebration. For after all we both live in the north and the north breeds hard men for it is a harsh living condition. I extended to you my hand in that you take it so I may lay my wisdom upon you in return for my condolences and absense of your fathers death.

Gracious Sympathies Borvan Emperor Varik Borvan VI

The inevitable was going to come between Borvan and Stomian and if he could persuade the young ruler to lend his fleet in that time it would considerably aide his efforts. Though nothing was certain people of climate tend to stick to each other most of the time in hopes for a better opportunity. It wasn't the only message to be sent, next was to Andohar of Elkheim. It was past time his sons had spouses and Andohar had two daughter but one pried his eye open more than the other for his son Carvat, a bold and cunning young man needing a spouse of equal cunning to insure the empire would survive and that its legacy would live on.

High Lord Andohar of Elkheim
Emperor Varik Borvan VI
I trust all is well in your section of the world and though this is sudden I think it would benefit the both of us. As you know my sons have no spouses and are in need of one. Carvat my heir is not only a bold, cunning and intelligent man but also very eligible and suave. I suggest that a meeting between my son and your daughter Pinkara. Perhaps of the Stomian festival as you've no doubt heard. From there you should venture north we can hunt and then see if the products of our seed are eligible for one another.
Emperor Varik Borvan VI

Now that the days business was done and preparations were nearly complete to venture south to Stom he would prepare himself with a slight breakfast. Proteins for the most part the exception of one of last shipments of grain to come in came in the form of bread a delicacy almost. "Here" handing it to one of his protectors, his legion. The young man devoured it almost instantaneously and had bowed. Varik nodded, it was enlightening to see such enthusiastic youth besides those of his own loins.

Finishing he returned outside and dawned a vest of chainmail overlapped with rugged leathers, trailing at his back was a cloak of bear fur seeing as a light snow was falling. Exhaling a breath before setting foot in the stirup and pulled himself atop his horse. Beside the retinue of 50 of his guards was a light clop, Mariet his daughter the only child with hair of the heavens (Bleach Blonde). She was born with luck have such locks of hair. Though her attire was far from lady like, heavy leathers with a wolf pelt cloak. Letting out a chuckle.

"You do know that once we get closer you will have to wear the dress." He spoke riding out leading them out of the city. Smiling seeing her disgust since she was the tomboy and was known to best her brothers in the sword from time to time.

"Once we get closer, practicaly in the palace you know." Mariet retorted quickly. "You think its safe for you to go anyways?" A bit perplexed on why her father would go considering the state of conditions between the two empires.

"You know how I am and I do need to get out of the castle once and a while your aunt does try my patience sometimes. But if they do try something you know what to do. Also no god can help them if I do fall, your brother Carvat is as smart as they come you know that and Fredrick is a damnable mountain. I had to spend a weeks worth of taxes just for his armor alone. So don't worry." Leaving it at that enjoying the ride the light snows Fredrick he couldn't conceive how he was so tall and strong yet he didn't complain having two strong powers come from him.

--Trading Hub Hokum--
The brothel was always busy and it was the perfect place to conduct business while Fredrick was conducting his own business with Marie up stairs it killed some time. Carvat waited with a a heft sack of blank gold coins at his side awaiting the arrival of his contact. It would be suicide to venture across the border in their territory and just for being who he is the inquisition would take him, here they had no power and the Judaci would make sure of that point. Fredrick finished first, usually he went threw all the wenches before coming out. Honestly Carvat didn't know whether to be amazed or disgusted by him sometimes yet he was his brother.

The corner of his eyes caught his contact, imitating a bird whistle to signal his attention. Not only the contact but Fredrick who reeked of the opposite gender sat at the table. Looking at him, then his brother then back to him.

"Fine season summer is isn't." He spoke

"Yes, but I like winter is better." The shadowed man spoke, it was still him and not an impostor.

Eyeing the room double and triple checking noticing only some of Judicator's Hoat Judaci in the room but other words it was clear. Tossing the sack on the table, couple of the blank coins fell out. People knew what happened but with Fredrick there no one glanced over to see. The man smiled greedily.

"Just keep doing what you are doing. I want chaos." Carvat spoke quietly with dead stare eyes.

"Of course, anything...." Leaving off taking the small fortune with him to conduct his own discreet business else where.

"You think that the old man is really going to Stom?" Fredrick spoke out after loosing a large belch after dowing a large ale.

"Of course he is. He wants to see if his presence can scare Emperor Sad III Doge Rudun into a comma or death. I swear if some that muscle went to your head, you'd be amazed at yourself." Agitated at the question his brother posed but after staring a while the duo started laughing.