NationStates Jolt Archive

A senior Roanian diplomat gestures with his hand. One of the servants walking behind Joseph *trips* ((A Roanian foot was in the way)). A bowl of cereal flies up and onto Joseph.

((All's fair in love and war... and Joseph has no witnesses.))

Joseph is momentarily stunned. He brushes cereal off his jacket. Then, as he reaches for a cloth to dab at the milk, he spots the servant on the floor trying to gather the tray back together. He reaches down and extends a hand to servant.

"Are you OK?" Joseph asks as he helps the servant to his feet.

As breakfast ended and the guest began moving about the hall, Joseph went to look for Princess Anna. When he found her (OOC: whenever that might fit with everyone else's posts), a smile broke across his face. "Anna," he said warmly, "I just wanted to see you and let you know that I meant every word I said. I think you truly are a special person and that God has a great calling for you." The young prince's face blushes. "And I would enjoy having the opportunity to see you meet that calling from close at hand. I... um..." Joseph pulls at his collar. "What I mean to say is that I've come to... like you very much, Anna. I know your Aunt, the new Chancellor, doesn't approve of me because I'm a protestant, but I hope that you and your father won't let that stand in the way of your decision and," Joseph cautiously reaches for Anna's hand, "how you feel about me."

Princess Anna looks touched by Prince Joseph's words.

"Joseph... I... I don't know what to say." she says, breathlessly. "None of that matters to me, my aunt I mean. I don't care what she thinks. You're so... sweet and kind to say such things!"

She takes Joseph's hand and squeezes it affectionately.

Theodora bites her lower-lip and a wide smile spreads across her face.

"Of cou..." she says excitedly, before hushing her voice. "...of course I can, Your Highness! When can I visit your encampment?"

"Why, whenever is convenient for you, your Highness. The only things I really have to which I must attend are at the Encampment anyway, so as far as I know any time is convenient for me..."
Then, with a laugh: You know, I have just realised that, since we met, we have each been calling the other "Your Highness"! I apologise, but that just struck me as a little funny... and I'd be honoured if you'd call me "Tharn"...

Bastianel leaves the place, visibly in anger. "My security...I can take care of myself, here and anywhere..." he mutters on his way out...

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OOC:
Did anyone else hear something...?

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OOC: Were you speaking in character? Because I'm sure there are many here who would just love to go to war with someone, aspecially when (a) that someone is as big a n00b as you, and (b) they have a great excuse - fighting for the honour of the Princess Anna...

I, for one, would be happy to send a few Wings of my Flying Corps your way...

---Post deleted by NationStates Moderators---

OOC:
Thanks Be To Mod...s
:lol:

Princess Anna looks touched by Prince Joseph's words.

"Joseph... I... I don't know what to say." she says, breathlessly. "None of that matters to me, my aunt I mean. I don't care what she thinks. You're so... sweet and kind to say such things!"

She takes Joseph's hand and squeezes it affectionately.

Joseph gently squeezes Anna's hand in return. He gazes into her eyes. At that moment, he realizes that he has fallen in love.

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BAN HIM NOW BEFORE I SEND SOME HORRIBLE VIRUS TO HIS COMPUTER!

OOC:
*starts chanting "IP-BAN! IP-BAN!*
:twisted:

EDIT to add OOC tag

I messanger walks up the palace gates. He walks up tot he gaurds. "Hello I have a message here for Crown Prince Hugo. And I was woundering if you could get to him?"

"I just want to know what the Princess thinks of me, of course. As her closest companion, I thought you might know." Perfect.

"I've no idea what the Princess thinks of you, Inquisitor. I've been very busy seeing to the protection of the Imperial Family, yourself and all the other guests over the past few days." says Sir Constantine.

"Ah." Simon sighs. "Tell me, Sir Constantine, who do you think will win?"

((Cardinal Richelieu has, at one point or the other, met every high ranking member of the Catholic church))

OOC: Wow, now I want to know what Clokeland was saying in my thread to get banned so quickly! :lol:

Bastianel leaves the place, visibly in anger. "My security...I can take care of myself, here and anywhere..." he mutters on his way out...

The Emperor looks frustrated as Bastianel leaves.

"Damn these infernal politics of division!" he shouts to no-one in particular. He turns to Princess Zoë. "If your brother hadn't convinced me to call new elections, none of this would ever have happened!"

He calls a page to him.

"Boy, go, catch-up and explain to the gentlemen elf who just left the palace that it wasn't my intent to insult him, and that I was merely trying to allay any fears he might have about my sister's new government making this place hostile to him and his people. Go see if you can't persuade him to return, or if he must go, at least don't let him go in anger. Now run!" the Emperor commands, and the page rushes off as fast as he can go in pursuit of Bastianel.

Theodora bites her lower-lip and a wide smile spreads across her face.

"Of cou..." she says excitedly, before hushing her voice. "...of course I can, Your Highness! When can I visit your encampment?"

"Why, whenever is convenient for you, your Highness. The only things I really have to which I must attend are at the Encampment anyway, so as far as I know any time is convenient for me..."
Then, with a laugh: You know, I have just realised that, since we met, we have each been calling the other "Your Highness"! I apologise, but that just struck me as a little funny... and I'd be honoured if you'd call me "Tharn"...

Theodora's expression becomes even more delighted.

"Well then Tharn, I would be honoured if you'd call me 'Theodora'." she says, beaming. "Shall we go on a stroll to your encampment together then, Tharn?"

Princess Anna looks touched by Prince Joseph's words.

"Joseph... I... I don't know what to say." she says, breathlessly. "None of that matters to me, my aunt I mean. I don't care what she thinks. You're so... sweet and kind to say such things!"

She takes Joseph's hand and squeezes it affectionately.

Joseph gently squeezes Anna's hand in return. He gazes into her eyes. At that moment, he realizes that he has fallen in love.

Anna returns his gaze, filled with the desire to do or say something, but unsure as to what the proper thing to do or say would be.

Finally, she starts talking awkwardly.

"Joseph... do you play chess?" she asks.

"Ah." Simon sighs. "Tell me, Sir Constantine, who do you think will win?" All my hopes... shattered.

((Cardinal Richelieu has, at one point or the other, met every high ranking member of the Catholic church))

I messanger walks up the palace gates. He walks up tot he gaurds. "Hello I have a message here for Crown Prince Hugo. And I was woundering if you could get to him?"

A Varangian answers him.

"Certainly, once you check out with security." says the Varangian in his thick Swedish accent.

"Do you have a clearance card issued by the Ministry of Public Safety?" asks another Varangian as he pulls out a hand held scanner to check the messenger for weapons.

"We can never be too careful." says the first Varangian.

"Ah." Simon sighs. "Tell me, Sir Constantine, who do you think will win?" All my hopes... shattered.

((Cardinal Richelieu has, at one point or the other, met every high ranking member of the Catholic church))

OOC: This is (kind of) a double post... was it intentional?

IC:

"Win?" says Sir Constantine. He looks annoyed, as if he is struggling to restrain himself. "Win? Sir, I hope you mean win the duel between us you alluded to before..."

"Oh, of course." Simon said hurriedly. "I look forward to it." I need to start wooing the princess. I'll have one of my aides look at the other possible allies.
--------------------------------


A senior Roanian diplomat knocked on the door of the Director's office of Pantocratoria's largest company.

Jean-Pierre de Constantinople, Director of Peacock Automobiles Incorporated, welcomes the ambassador into his office.

"Ambassador, great to 'ave you 'ere." he says in a thick French accent. "I 'ope you're enjoying your stay 'ere in the Empire. 'Ow may I 'elp you?"

((This is a Roanian diplomat. Simon is now going to concentrate on winning the princess's heart))

"It's quite simple." The diplomat shows Jean-Pierre a paper detailing tariff exemptions to Roania.

<But as with all Roanian offers, this has a price...>

"Ah, oui." says de Constantinople as he looks it over. "'Ow you say... ah oui... what is the catch? What do I 'ave to do to get our fine automobiles into the market Roanian?"

"Ah, oui." says de Constantinople as he looks it over. "'Ow you say... ah oui... what is the catch? What do I 'ave to do to get our fine automobiles into the market Roanian?"

"You are the most powerful company in the most powerful industry in Pantocratoria." The diplomat said, leaning forward. "We want you to aid us in Simon marrying Anna."

"Monsieur, with this thing, I do not know 'ow much 'elp I can be. But I will try. Isaac Comnenus, the treasurer, is a good friend of mine..." replies de Constantinople.

"Anything would be of use to us." The diplomat put the tariff exemption card on the desk.

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

Simon straightened his tie and knocked on Anna's door.

She takes Joseph's hand and squeezes it affectionately.

Joseph gently squeezes Anna's hand in return. He gazes into her eyes. At that moment, he realizes that he has fallen in love.

Anna returns his gaze, filled with the desire to do or say something, but unsure as to what the proper thing to do or say would be.

Finally, she starts talking awkwardly.

"Joseph... do you play chess?" she asks.

Joseph smiled. "No, but I love for you teach me. Maybe we could find a quiet place to start our lessons..."

Ambassador Rev. Jacob Donnelly arrived promptly for his scheduled meeting with the Treasurer. After a short wait, a secretary escorts him into the office. "Ah, Treasurer Comnenus," Donnelly says extending his hand, "a pleasure to see you again. And congratulations on retaining your portfolio in the new government. It makes it so much easier for us to deal with a familiar face."

Donnelly takes a seat and presents a large envelope to Comnenus. "Sir, here are the newest papers regarding my government's sale of Wraith class warships to Pantocratoria and our donation of AEGIS cruisers. As you see, the Imperial Export-Import Bank has persuaded the banks issuing the credit for your purchases to lower the interest rate by another full percentage point."

Donnelly smiles. "As you know, we believe in loyalty as one of our strongest virtues. We choose our friends carefully and value them highly. That is why we are pleased to still have a friend in your position, sir."

Donnelly produces another large envelope. "As further evidence of that friendship, we are prepared to extend our trade and commerce agreement with Pantocratoria to include an across the board elimination of tariffs on our part. Recognizing that your economy is growing, but still developing, we are not demanding any similar across the board tariff elimination on your part. Simply your continued agreement to pursue negotiations toward free trade between our countries and a reaffirmation of our mutually beneficial relationship."

"As you know, trade is growing part of our relationship and we hope to see that flourish. The Empire has appreciated your support in our crisis with Upper Virginia, as we know you valued our support in your confrontation with the anti-pope. This is simply our way of saying, 'Thank you.'"

((Give it up, you don't have the skill. That was obvious, and blatant.))

((Give it up, you don't have the skill. That was obvious, and blatant.))

OOC: Some people believe in being direct. Oddly enough, Excalbia planned further concessions to Pantocratoria before the change in government and intends to stand behind them regardless of the courtship. (And I think even Comnenus would recognize that from previous dealings with Donnelly.) The courtship itself is not a major political issue for Holy Empire. Joseph is not even guaranteed to be the next emperor - it will have to be voted upon by Senate and the bishops.

OOC: Each their own. By the way, Richelieu wants to see Walsh.

A man in a dark green coat approaches the Roanian Embassy in New Rome. When asked to identify himself, he produces a white diplomatic passport and identifies himself as an envoy from the Dominion of Upper Virginia and asks to see the Ambassador.

Theodora bites her lower-lip and a wide smile spreads across her face.

"Of cou..." she says excitedly, before hushing her voice. "...of course I can, Your Highness! When can I visit your encampment?"

"Why, whenever is convenient for you, your Highness. The only things I really have to which I must attend are at the Encampment anyway, so as far as I know any time is convenient for me..."
Then, with a laugh: You know, I have just realised that, since we met, we have each been calling the other "Your Highness"! I apologise, but that just struck me as a little funny... and I'd be honoured if you'd call me "Tharn"...

While Tharn awaited the Princess' response, he couldn't help but wonder momentarily whether his decision to let her in on the secret had been a good idea. He had made the decision on an impulse, and was still unsure why. But the most important consideration was, could she be trusted to keep the secret?
"But of course she will", he reassured himself, glancing at her. "I'm sure of it".
This, too, surprised him. He had only known her a matter of days, yet he already trusted her. Normally he was more suspicious of others until he knew them a little better...
"I must be going soft...", he mused.

A Varangian answers him.

"Certainly, once you check out with security." says the Varangian in his thick Swedish accent.

"Do you have a clearance card issued by the Ministry of Public Safety?" asks another Varangian as he pulls out a hand held scanner to check the messenger for weapons.

"We can never be too careful." says the first Varangian.


The messanger pulls out his clearence card, it is up to date. And you find no weapons on the man.

"You are right not in this day in age. Just over a mounth age Prince Hugo was a target in a assasination attempt on a countess of another country, the name of which I can nor remember at the time. He was also wounded in the and had to be evaced away from the sceen."

Theodora bites her lower-lip and a wide smile spreads across her face.

"Of cou..." she says excitedly, before hushing her voice. "...of course I can, Your Highness! When can I visit your encampment?"

"Why, whenever is convenient for you, your Highness. The only things I really have to which I must attend are at the Encampment anyway, so as far as I know any time is convenient for me..."
Then, with a laugh: You know, I have just realised that, since we met, we have each been calling the other "Your Highness"! I apologise, but that just struck me as a little funny... and I'd be honoured if you'd call me "Tharn"...

While Tharn awaited the Princess' response, he couldn't help but wonder momentarily whether his decision to let her in on the secret had been a good idea. He had made the decision on an impulse, and was still unsure why. But the most important consideration was, could she be trusted to keep the secret?
"But of course she will", he reassured himself, glancing at her. "I'm sure of it".
This, too, surprised him. He had only known her a matter of days, yet he already trusted her. Normally he was more suspicious of others until he knew them a little better...
"I must be going soft...", he mused.

OOC: I already responded! :D

Basically, the Princess looked delighted at the invite to call the Prince by his first name, and asked for him to call her Theodora. She also eagerly asked whether Tharn would like to go on a stroll to his encampment right away.

A Varangian answers him.

"Certainly, once you check out with security." says the Varangian in his thick Swedish accent.

"Do you have a clearance card issued by the Ministry of Public Safety?" asks another Varangian as he pulls out a hand held scanner to check the messenger for weapons.

"We can never be too careful." says the first Varangian.


The messanger pulls out his clearence card, it is up to date. And you find no weapons on the man.

"You are right not in this day in age. Just over a mounth age Prince Hugo was a target in a assasination attempt on a countess of another country, the name of which I can nor remember at the time. He was also wounded in the and had to be evaced away from the sceen."

"Everything seems to be in order here, sir. I shall lead you to Prince Hugo's guest room." says the Varangian, leading the messenger into the palace.

((Give it up, you don't have the skill. That was obvious, and blatant.))

OOC: Some people believe in being direct. Oddly enough, Excalbia planned further concessions to Pantocratoria before the change in government and intends to stand behind them regardless of the courtship. (And I think even Comnenus would recognize that from previous dealings with Donnelly.) The courtship itself is not a major political issue for Holy Empire. Joseph is not even guaranteed to be the next emperor - it will have to be voted upon by Senate and the bishops.

OOC: Boys boys you can both marry me! :lol:

Seriously though Roania, Donnelly and Comnenus have dealth with each other before over the purchasing of some Excalbian ships. I actually thought this post was an attempt to make sure Excalbia remains on the good side of the new government. 8)

"I'd love to teach you!" she says excitedly. She leads Joseph to a room in her chambers.

Sir Constantine the Hardy chases the pair out of the hall. He catches up to them as they enter Anna's chambers.

"Ahem!" says Sir Constantine. "Your Imperial Highnesses, I don't believe it would be appropriate for you to be alone together! So, I humbly offer my services as chaperone."

Anna blushes. Sir Constantine gives Joseph a part-friendly, part-cautionary slap on the back.

"I insist, Your Highness." he says, as he opens the chamber doors.

An ivory chess set is already setup on a table between two comfortable chairs in the chamber. Sir Constantine holds one of the chairs out for Anna to sit in, and then motions to Joseph to sit in the other.

"Now... I'll show you all the pieces..." starts Anna.

***

As Anna finishes explaining the game to Joseph, there is a knock on the door. Sir Constantine stands and opens it.

"Ah, Inquisitor," says Sir Constantine, bowing slightly to Simon. "How may I be of assistance?"

Ambassador Rev. Jacob Donnelly arrived promptly for his scheduled meeting with the Treasurer. After a short wait, a secretary escorts him into the office. "Ah, Treasurer Comnenus," Donnelly says extending his hand, "a pleasure to see you again. And congratulations on retaining your portfolio in the new government. It makes it so much easier for us to deal with a familiar face."

Donnelly takes a seat and presents a large envelope to Comnenus. "Sir, here are the newest papers regarding my government's sale of Wraith class warships to Pantocratoria and our donation of AEGIS cruisers. As you see, the Imperial Export-Import Bank has persuaded the banks issuing the credit for your purchases to lower the interest rate by another full percentage point."

Donnelly smiles. "As you know, we believe in loyalty as one of our strongest virtues. We choose our friends carefully and value them highly. That is why we are pleased to still have a friend in your position, sir."

Donnelly produces another large envelope. "As further evidence of that friendship, we are prepared to extend our trade and commerce agreement with Pantocratoria to include an across the board elimination of tariffs on our part. Recognizing that your economy is growing, but still developing, we are not demanding any similar across the board tariff elimination on your part. Simply your continued agreement to pursue negotiations toward free trade between our countries and a reaffirmation of our mutually beneficial relationship."

"As you know, trade is growing part of our relationship and we hope to see that flourish. The Empire has appreciated your support in our crisis with Upper Virginia, as we know you valued our support in your confrontation with the anti-pope. This is simply our way of saying, 'Thank you.'"

Comnenus smiles as he reviews Donnelly's papers.

"Reverend, our economy may be doing better than you think, thanks to my fiscal policy." says Comnenus. "I can't claim responsibility for it - the present Chancellor, the Princess Irene, was its primary author, even while her brother the Prince Basil was Chancellor. In fact, almost every good thing the United Christian Front government accomplished, while it still existed, was as a result of the actions of members who later formed the Pantocratoria First Party. I'm sure this won't be lost on the voters when they go to the polls."

"The Chancellor herself was insistent that we do our best to help in the recent crisis involving Upper Virginia, and she likewise remains adamant that we go one step further than the previous government did in our offers of friendship. We'd like to sign a mutual free trade agreement. The Chancellor and I believe that free trade between our two countries will help us each grow stronger." says Comnenus, sliding a sheet of paper across the table to Donnelly.

The phone on the treasurer's desk starts ringing.

"Pardon me, Reverend. Please excuse me while I answer the phone. It'll give you an opportunity to read the document!" he says, with a smile.

He holds the phone to his ear.

"Oui? ...Ah, bonjour, Jean-Pierre! Dit-moi, quand est-ce que nous allons jouer au golf? ...Oui, d'accord, le fin de semaine, c'est bon... Vraiment? Qu'est-ce que tu veux pour discuter de? ...le soupirant Roanien? OK. Alors... oui, samedi... très bien, aurevoir!" he says to the person on the other side. He hangs up the phone and continues in English.

"Just organising a golf game with a friend, Reverend. Have you read the document? Tell me, what do you think?" asks Comnenus.

"I'd love to teach you!" she says excitedly. She leads Joseph to a room in her chambers.

Sir Constantine the Hardy chases the pair out of the hall. He catches up to them as they enter Anna's chambers.

"Ahem!" says Sir Constantine. "Your Imperial Highnesses, I don't believe it would be appropriate for you to be alone together! So, I humbly offer my services as chaperone."

Anna blushes. Sir Constantine gives Joseph a part-friendly, part-cautionary slap on the back.

"I insist, Your Highness." he says, as he opens the chamber doors.

An ivory chess set is already setup on a table between two comfortable chairs in the chamber. Sir Constantine holds one of the chairs out for Anna to sit in, and then motions to Joseph to sit in the other.

"Now... I'll show you all the pieces..." starts Anna.

***

As Anna finishes explaining the game to Joseph, there is a knock on the door. Sir Constantine stands and opens it.

"Ah, Inquisitor," says Sir Constantine, bowing slightly to Simon. "How may I be of assistance?"

As Sir Constantine opens the door, Joseph leans forward over the chess table. "Thank you, Anna."

Seeing Simon at the door, Joseph stands and smiles. "Inquisitor," he says with a nod.

Comnenus smiles as he reviews Donnelly's papers.

"Reverend, our economy may be doing better than you think, thanks to my fiscal policy." says Comnenus. "I can't claim responsibility for it - the present Chancellor, the Princess Irene, was its primary author, even while her brother the Prince Basil was Chancellor. In fact, almost every good thing the United Christian Front government accomplished, while it still existed, was as a result of the actions of members who later formed the Pantocratoria First Party. I'm sure this won't be lost on the voters when they go to the polls."

"The Chancellor herself was insistent that we do our best to help in the recent crisis involving Upper Virginia, and she likewise remains adamant that we go one step further than the previous government did in our offers of friendship. We'd like to sign a mutual free trade agreement. The Chancellor and I believe that free trade between our two countries will help us each grow stronger." says Comnenus, sliding a sheet of paper across the table to Donnelly.

The phone on the treasurer's desk starts ringing.

"Pardon me, Reverend. Please excuse me while I answer the phone. It'll give you an opportunity to read the document!" he says, with a smile.

He holds the phone to his ear.

"Oui? ...Ah, bonjour, Jean-Pierre! Dit-moi, quand est-ce que nous allons jouer au golf? ...Oui, d'accord, le fin de semaine, c'est bon... Vraiment? Qu'est-ce que tu veux pour discuter de? ...le soupirant Roanien? OK. Alors... oui, samedi... très bien, aurevoir!" he says to the person on the other side. He hangs up the phone and continues in English.

"Just organising a golf game with a friend, Reverend. Have you read the document? Tell me, what do you think?" asks Comnenus.

Donnelly is momentarily caught off guard. He was hoping for an affirmation that the new government would continue the alliance with Excalbia, but he wasn't expecting a counter-offer of a full free trade agreement. As he reviewed the document, he couldn't help but overhear the conversation. Hmmm. I wonder what the Roanians are up to now. I'll have to see if I know anyone who's playing golf this weekend.

"Well, sir, this seems to be absolutely perfect. The Holy Empire has always been a champion of free trade, and we would be honored to enter into such an agreement with Pantocratoria. I will, of course, need to transmit this to my capital to receive my government's concurrence. However, I see no impediments to signing it."

Donnelly leaned back in his chair. "In fact, the signing of this agreement is so significant, that it may call for a special event to commemorate it. His Imperial Majesty, David IV, has wanted to visit Pantocratoria himself for some time in order to meet Emperor Andreus face-to-face. The signing of this agreement may be an opportune moment. Do you think your new Chancellor would support such a visit?"

Donnelly is momentarily caught off guard. He was hoping for an affirmation that the new government would continue the alliance with Excalbia, but he wasn't expecting a counter-offer of a full free trade agreement. As he reviewed the document, he couldn't help but overhear the conversation. Hmmm. I wonder what the Roanians are up to now. I'll have to see if I know anyone who's playing golf this weekend.

"Well, sir, this seems to be absolutely perfect. The Holy Empire has always been a champion of free trade, and we would be honored to enter into such an agreement with Pantocratoria. I will, of course, need to transmit this to my capital to receive my government's concurrence. However, I see no impediments to signing it."

Donnelly leaned back in his chair. "In fact, the signing of this agreement is so significant, that it may call for a special event to commemorate it. His Imperial Majesty, David IV, has wanted to visit Pantocratoria himself for some time in order to meet Emperor Andreus face-to-face. The signing of this agreement may be an opportune moment. Do you think your new Chancellor would support such a visit?"

"Why Reverend, I think she'd relish the idea!" says the treasurer. "And I know what the perfect day would be..."

Comnenus flicks through his desk calendar. He reaches a day marked "ELECTION DAY" in red ink, and then turns it back one page.

"...yes, a perfect day." Comnenus says.

As Sir Constantine opens the door, Joseph leans forward over the chess table. "Thank you, Anna."

Seeing Simon at the door, Joseph stands and smiles. "Inquisitor," he says with a nod.

"You're not going to stay for a game?" asks Anna, the urgency in her voice betraying more than she obviously wanted to, as she looks away.

She then rises, turns to Simon and curtsies.

"Inquisitor," she says. "do you play chess?"

As Sir Constantine opens the door, Joseph leans forward over the chess table. "Thank you, Anna."

Seeing Simon at the door, Joseph stands and smiles. "Inquisitor," he says with a nod.

"You're not going to stay for a game?" asks Anna, the urgency in her voice betraying more than she obviously wanted to, as she looks away.

She then rises, turns to Simon and curtsies.

"Inquisitor," she says. "do you play chess?"

Hearing the tone of Anna's voice, Joseph says, somewhat sheepishly, "Perhaps I could stay and watch a game, it might help me develop my strategy..."

Donnelly is momentarily caught off guard. He was hoping for an affirmation that the new government would continue the alliance with Excalbia, but he wasn't expecting a counter-offer of a full free trade agreement. As he reviewed the document, he couldn't help but overhear the conversation. Hmmm. I wonder what the Roanians are up to now. I'll have to see if I know anyone who's playing golf this weekend.

"Well, sir, this seems to be absolutely perfect. The Holy Empire has always been a champion of free trade, and we would be honored to enter into such an agreement with Pantocratoria. I will, of course, need to transmit this to my capital to receive my government's concurrence. However, I see no impediments to signing it."

Donnelly leaned back in his chair. "In fact, the signing of this agreement is so significant, that it may call for a special event to commemorate it. His Imperial Majesty, David IV, has wanted to visit Pantocratoria himself for some time in order to meet Emperor Andreus face-to-face. The signing of this agreement may be an opportune moment. Do you think your new Chancellor would support such a visit?"

"Why Reverend, I think she'd relish the idea!" says the treasurer. "And I know what the perfect day would be..."

Comnenus flicks through his desk calendar. He reaches a day marked "ELECTION DAY" in red ink, and then turns it back one page.

"...yes, a perfect day." Comnenus says.

"Well," Donnelly says with a smile, "I will leave the final decision on a date up to His Imperial Majesty. And to Emperor Andreus, of course."

Hmm. That's probably not going to work. Wouldn't want to look we're taking sides in an election. But no reason to bring that up now.

Donnelly rises, "Thank you for time. Good day, sir."

The Emperor Andreus sat alone (save for some Varangians) in his drawing room, brooding. His massive chair is turned away from the door towards the fireplace, and the Emperor leans on one side in the chair, sipping at a glass of brandy. He stares into the crackling flames in his fireplace, lost in his thoughts.

The door to the room opens, and Princess Zoë, Andreus' youngest child, enters the drawing room, timidly. The Varangian outside had warned her that her father was in a rotten mood.

"Your Majesty," she says, curtsying to the back of the Emperor's chair.

"Where's your sister?" he asks, gruffly.

"Anna is playing chess with Prince Joseph in her chambers, Your Majesty." says Zoë. She quickly adds: "Sir Constantine is with her."

"Not her. Where's your other sister, girl?" he asks.

Zoë pauses. She often teased Theodora and threatened to tell on her to their father, but had never dared.

"SPEAK UP CHILD!" barks the Emperor as he sets down his glass of brandy, still without turning around to look at his daughter.

"erm... I think I saw her taking a stroll with Prince Tharn, Your Majesty." says Zoë timidly.

"Who's with her?" the Emperor asks, picking up his glass again.

"...I... I don't think I saw anyone with them, Your Majesty." says Zoë, nearly whispering.

The Emperor swallows the rest of the brandy in a single gulp as his face curls into a frown. He throws the empty crystal glass into the fireplace, shattering it. Zoë gasps.

"Find her." says the Emperor.

"Yes, Your Majesty." says Zoë. "Father, I came here to ask...."

"NOW!" Andreus growls.

"Yes, Your Majesty." says Princess Zoë again, curtsying to the Emperor's chair before hurrying out of the chamber.

The President sat in a chair in his chamber, while JJ was busy reading the Busby news paper.

"Busby lost a game in the world cup, not doing to well this year."

No answer came. JJ peared over the newspaper.

"HARPER."

He turned round quickly. "Sorry what?"

"Whats wrong you just are sitting there."

Harper turned back round and just stared at the wall.

"There is something going on here and i don't like it."

"There something going on in every country." JJ replied smuggish.

"Not that, its just.... why the sudden change to democracy?" JJ peared once again over the paper.

"Err isn't that good?"

"Maybe..... i don't know i am going for a walk." The President stood up and walked to the door.

"I will stay here, enjoy your walk."

Harper turned back and left the chamber.

OOC: Any Prince or Princess or anyone want to meet President Harper, please reply.

As Sir Constantine opens the door, Joseph leans forward over the chess table. "Thank you, Anna."

Seeing Simon at the door, Joseph stands and smiles. "Inquisitor," he says with a nod.

"You're not going to stay for a game?" asks Anna, the urgency in her voice betraying more than she obviously wanted to, as she looks away.

She then rises, turns to Simon and curtsies.

"Inquisitor," she says. "do you play chess?"

"Please, call me Simon." Simon winces at the constant rank naming. "Your highness, I would be honored." He nods to Joseph. "Greetings, your highness." He turns to Sir Constantine. "Tell me, Sir Constantine, when would be a good time for our duel?"

A man in a dark green coat approaches the Roanian Embassy in New Rome. When asked to identify himself, he produces a white diplomatic passport and identifies himself as an envoy from the Dominion of Upper Virginia and asks to see the Ambassador.

"Very well. Please, step this way." As the man enters, he notices several cameras and armed guards everywhere.

"Everything seems to be in order here, sir. I shall lead you to Prince Hugo's guest room." says the Varangian, leading the messenger into the palace.

"Thank you kind sir."

Hugo was walking in the halls,he and changed into his standard uniform because it made him fell more at ease, thinking deeply when he walked into Busby President. "Oh sorry sir I was looking were I was going. I am Hugp Lee " Hugo extended his and in appology.

Chou Lin speaks down her sleave...

"The Big Lady is singing...I repeat...the big lady is singing"

Chong looked at her strange, because no one was singing. And personally he thought Imperialist were elitist exploitators of the people but wasnt saying anything.
***********************************************************

conincidently....A van pulls up near to the palace, advertising "Locust Research Group". Inside it looked like something from the bridge of the Death Star.
"Message received Grasshopper", a Researcher said from inside the mobile research facility.
He changed channel.
"Give me your position Locust Catcher..."

Locust Catcher was hiding in a bush in the encampment watching Tharn and Theodora though his camra. His camra whirrled.
"Ya, this is Locust Catcher, have a couple in view at the moment...might be of scientific interest soon, but dont awake the biology department just yet. Over."

The Researcher changed channel again.
"Come in Big Bug"

"This is big bug"

"Grasshopper has reported that Anna and Joseph have gone into a private chamber...followed by Sir Constantine and then Simon....you have to get this on camra. Might be a locust colony. Over."

"I'm on it, Over"

Big Bug used his telescopic camera to zoom in from the tree he was hiding in. They were playing chess. He took a picture for the hell of it.
"The locusts are playing chess, over".

"Dont fall for that old one, say on them."

((You do realise an Inquisitor can sense when he's being watched?))

Simon feels a prickle on the back of his neck. He coughs into his ring "There is an agent selling secrets around the back of the palace. Get the legionarres to go for a walk nearby."

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

Several Roanian Legionarres leave the palace, carrying concealed weaponry. The car drives along the road, and they accidentally slam into the Zusayan vehicle.

A researcher in white coat climbs out of the van with a tray of locusts and throws them over the Roanian vehicle.

"You maniac! You drive worse than a locust flies! You upset my locusts!
You pay for the damage you cause and learn to drive too!"

OCC your inquisitor using witchcraft now?

A researcher in white coat climbs out of the van with a tray of locusts and throws them over the Roanian vehicle.

"You maniac! You drive worse than a locust flies! You upset my locusts!
You pay for the damage you cause and learn to drive too!"

OCC your inquisitor using witchcraft now?

OOC: Sounds to me like it is more like ESP, than witchcraft.

A researcher in white coat climbs out of the van with a tray of locusts and throws them over the Roanian vehicle.

"You maniac! You drive worse than a locust flies! You upset my locusts!
You pay for the damage you cause and learn to drive too!"

OCC your inquisitor using witchcraft now?

The Legionarres silence him and force their way into the vehicle. "What's a researcher doing here?"

((What do they find? How many cameras?))

A researcher in white coat looks up from a bank of 6 screens - only three are operational. And upon tow of these screens are...locusts.... the third shows a command centre via satalight.

A little sign is flashing unauthorised entry.
It is also flashing upon the camras of Locust Catcher and Big Bug who, as trained, whipped out a locust from their pockets and are now lovingly filming them in all there rather close up wonder...

"This make good documentary. You roains make good tin-cans of soup!" said the inner-researcher chewing locust-snacks.

The Researcher outside begins letting the tyres down on the Legionares vehicle.

She then rises, turns to Simon and curtsies.

"Inquisitor," she says. "do you play chess?"

"Please, call me Simon." Simon winces at the constant rank naming. "Your highness, I would be honored." He nods to Joseph. "Greetings, your highness." He turns to Sir Constantine. "Tell me, Sir Constantine, when would be a good time for our duel?"

Joseph returns Simon's nod. "Inquisitor, please call me Joseph. May I stay to watch your game? I think it would help my understanding of the strategies involved."

A man in a dark green coat approaches the Roanian Embassy in New Rome. When asked to identify himself, he produces a white diplomatic passport and identifies himself as an envoy from the Dominion of Upper Virginia and asks to see the Ambassador.

"Very well. Please, step this way." As the man enters, he notices several cameras and armed guards everywhere.

The Upper Virginian officer nods with satisfaction at the Roanian's security. He admired people who knew how to protect themselves. That was one reason he despised the Excalbians. Self-righteous, bossy, arrogant and naive.

Arriving at the Ambassador's office, the Upper Virginian waits patiently until he is shown in. Entering the office, the man in the green coat extends his hand.

"Your Excellency, I am Colonel Wil Wright of the Dominion of Upper Virginia. It is my understanding that we are almost friends, for we share a common opponent. I hope we can find avenues for cooperation."

The President sat in a chair in his chamber, while JJ was busy reading the Busby news paper.

"Busby lost a game in the world cup, not doing to well this year."

No answer came. JJ peared over the newspaper.

"HARPER."

He turned round quickly. "Sorry what?"

"Whats wrong you just are sitting there."

Harper turned back round and just stared at the wall.

"There is something going on here and i don't like it."

"There something going on in every country." JJ replied smuggish.

"Not that, its just.... why the sudden change to democracy?" JJ peared once again over the paper.

"Err isn't that good?"

"Maybe..... i don't know i am going for a walk." The President stood up and walked to the door.

"I will stay here, enjoy your walk."

Harper turned back and left the chamber.

OOC: Any Prince or Princess or anyone want to meet President Harper, please reply.

Prince Constantine bumps (not literally) into Hugo and Harper as he walks around the palace grounds, writing in his PDA.

"Your Excellency, Your Highness," he says, greeting both men. "What luck running into you like this... perhaps you could give me some advice..."

"...for the first time in a few years, and the first time in my political career, we're having elections. I asked my father to reinstitute democracy because I reasoned that Princess Irene was so unpopular that I might be able to oust her faction of the old government, thereby getting rid of that extremist group which did things like making that infernal The Eternal Elf film mandatory viewing, all the anti non-human sentiment, of which my aunt was the leader." says Constantine, attempting to explain why the sudden return to democracy. "As you might have guessed, it has turned back to bite me. My aunt led a parliamentary coup and split my party in two. Her new Pantocratoria First Party is now realising all the dreams it had when it existed just as a faction of the United Christian Front. She can't get out of the elections, but now that she's the government she's able to stack the deck in her favour as much as possible, coupled with the fact that she's now got a honeymoon period for being a new government, and with the fact that she can blame her previous unpopular policies on the UCF..."

"...Your Excellency, I know you've had experience with elections... what can we do to beat the PFP? And Your Highness, surely you've dealt with other governments which have taken hardline populist positions against elves and other non-humans... in your experience, how can they be overcome?" asks Prince Constantine desperately.

She then rises, turns to Simon and curtsies.

"Inquisitor," she says. "do you play chess?"

"Please, call me Simon." Simon winces at the constant rank naming. "Your highness, I would be honored." He nods to Joseph. "Greetings, your highness." He turns to Sir Constantine. "Tell me, Sir Constantine, when would be a good time for our duel?"

Joseph returns Simon's nod. "Inquisitor, please call me Joseph. May I stay to watch your game? I think it would help my understanding of the strategies involved."

"I had something else in mind..." says Princess Anna, mischeviously.

"You've the look of your sister about you, Your Highness..." says Sir Constantine. "Be wary, gentlemen..."

"Hush, Sir Constantine!" says Anna, trying to restrain a giggle.

"You even nearly just giggled like her!" Sir Constantine points out.

"Hush!" says Anna insistently. "Since you now know how to play chess, at least in theory, Joseph... and since Simon would be honoured to play a game... why don't you two play each other?"

She raises a hand to hush any objections from either Simon, Joseph or Constantine. Only Constantine proceeds to speak anyway.

"Oh, a game of chess, that certainly warranted that look of mischief." Sir Constantine says, snorting in relief.

"I wasn't finished!" insists Anna. The playful smile so often found on her sister's visage displays itself broadly across her face. She changes her expression to one of faux-seriousness. "The winner may kiss me."

"Now hold on..." says Sir Constantine.

"Ah, Constantine!" says Anna, placing a finger across the knight's lips to silence him. "Don't you have a duel to arrange with the good Inquisitor?"

She removes her hand and takes a seat watching the chessboard.

"Quite." says Sir Constantine. "Well sir, what about after your game of chess? Do you joust? We've a tourney field and ashen lances for such chivalrous displays."

And real lances just in case you win the chess game, monsieur. thinks Sir Constantine to himself.

A researcher in white coat looks up from a bank of 6 screens - only three are operational. And upon tow of these screens are...locusts.... the third shows a command centre via satalight.

A little sign is flashing unauthorised entry.
It is also flashing upon the camras of Locust Catcher and Big Bug who, as trained, whipped out a locust from their pockets and are now lovingly filming them in all there rather close up wonder...

"This make good documentary. You roains make good tin-cans of soup!" said the inner-researcher chewing locust-snacks.

The Researcher outside begins letting the tyres down on the Legionares vehicle.

A patrol of Varangian Guard happens across the van, mid-raid.

"What is going on here?" asks the leader of the patrol in his thick Swedish accent. The Varangians pull out their M-16s.

"Hands up, all of you!" shouts another Varangian.

Another guardsman starts speaking Swedish into his walkie-talkie.

"Roanians? Zusayans? Locusts? Somebody tell me what is going on before I start shooting!" barks the leader.

The Emperor has poured himself a new glass of brandy as the doors to his drawing room open again. Dressed in black, and for once not followed by her constant priestly companion, the Princess Irene steps into the chamber. She curtsies to the Emperor's chair.

"Your Imperial Majesty," she says, "I came to discuss affairs of state."

"Proceed, Chancellor." says the Emperor in a dry voice.

"These elections, brother..." starts Irene. The Emperor interrupts her by standing. He swallows the rest of his brandy, sets it aside, and turns to face the Chancellor. Standing at well over six-foot and with a look which could inspire terror into the heart of all but the bravest warrior when he's in a bad mood, he is an intimidating sight. Andreus was obviously pleased with the effect. Irene curtsies again.

"I'm not cancelling the elections, or post-poning them, or doing anything else with them for that matter." says the Emperor. "Next."

"Yes, Your Majesty." says Irene, rising slowly. "The Excalbian ambassador, Donnelly, has proposed a state visit by the Excalbian Emperor David IV. Apparently Emperor David wants to meet you in person, brother."

The Emperor's look softens a bit, but not much.

"Wonderful! I'd love to meet him!" says the Emperor.

"Comnenus suggested Saturday the..." starts Irene.

"The Saturday before the election?" interrupts the Emperor. "Forget it, sister. But you may propose any date following the elections."

"As you please, brother." says the Chancellor, disappointed.

"Next." says the Emperor.

"Have you made your decision about Anna's husband?" asks Irene.

"Not yet, although I hope to do so before the election." replies the Emperor.

"May I ask, who are the front runners?" asks Irene.

"Well... although I like Kyrosal's boy Bastianel... I can forsee the problems of such a pairing, no thanks to your policies, madam." says the Emperor.

"I agree, the elf cannot do. Nor can the cross breed." says Irene, tersely. "It is bad enough you've admitted such an animal into the Order of the Pantocrator, it would be unforgivable to admit one into a princess of Imperial blood's bed!"

The Emperor looks disgusted, but says nothing. Instead he returns to his chair and pours himself another brandy. Irene approaches him, and stands beside the chair.

"I like Prince Tharn," says the Emperor, "or at least I did until Zoë said he was walking with Theodora unchaperoned..."

"With Theodora?" asks Irene. "That girl..."

"Damn it, I'll not have you speculate along with the common filth about what Theodora did to deserve that blasted penance!" barks the Emperor.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I'm just concerned for my niece." says Irene, excusing herself.

"Fine. My favourite candidate, I believe, is Prince Joseph..." says the Emperor.

"A protestant?" interrupts Irene.

"Inter-denominational marriages are permitted!" Andreus retorts defensively.

"But not exactly encouraged! And, Your Majesty... think of Anna's children! Would they to be raised as heretics or as true orthodox Catholics? Such uncertainty!" protests Irene.

"It should be Anna and her husband's business, how her children should be raised, sister." says Andreus, dismissively.

"What about Simon Darquis of Roania?" asks Irene.

"Well... he seems a reasonable enough sort. An alliance with Roania cemented by such a marriage is a tempting proposition..." says the Emperor.

"Extremely tempting." suggests Irene.

"Quite right, extremely tempting." concedes the Emperor. "And he's a Catholic..."

"A pious Catholic." interjects Irene, nodding.

"...yes, quite." says the Emperor. "Not exactly of Anna's rank though, is he?"

"Surely that would just mean that we'll be even more likely to enjoy her company here more often! While marrying a future Emperor might be an appropriate match in rank, an Emperor would require his Empress to be with him in his realm for the vast majority of the year, but marrying a young gentlemen of somewhat lesser, but still fully-noble birth, would mean that Anna wouldn't be bound to remain in her husband's nation for as much of her time..." says Irene.

"Well... that's true..." Andreus concedes, running his hand through his beard. "I take it you have a preferred candidate, sister?"

"I certainly do! Inquisitor Darquis is an upstanding, pious young Catholic man. Anna's duties in his homeland would be fairly negligible, and she would find it easier to return to Pantocratoria to visit us if she married him than, well, almost anybody else." says Irene.

"Hmmm.... you've given me a lot of think about, sister. And there are more suitors besides the ones we've discussed, too. I'll have to talk to them all some more before I make my decision." says the Emperor. "You may leave."

"Thankyou, Your Majesty." says Princess Irene as she curtsies, and leaves.

The Emperor returns to his brandy, and resumes staring into the fireplace.

OOC: Backtracking slightly here to the part i met.

The President continued walking until a person knocked into him. "Oh sorry sir I was looking were I was going. I am Hugp Lee " Hugo extended his and in appology. The President looked at the man and then smiled and shook his hand.

"No problem Mr Lee, i am Jack Harper, President of Busby."

A few moments later Prince Constantine comes round the corner.Your Excellency, Your Highness," he says, greeting both men. "What luck running into you like this... perhaps you could give me some advice..."

"...for the first time in a few years, and the first time in my political career, we're having elections. I asked my father to reinstitute democracy because I reasoned that Princess Irene was so unpopular that I might be able to oust her faction of the old government, thereby getting rid of that extremist group which did things like making that infernal The Eternal Elf film mandatory viewing, all the anti non-human sentiment, of which my aunt was the leader." says Constantine, attempting to explain why the sudden return to democracy. "As you might have guessed, it has turned back to bite me. My aunt led a parliamentary coup and split my party in two. Her new Pantocratoria First Party is now realising all the dreams it had when it existed just as a faction of the United Christian Front. She can't get out of the elections, but now that she's the government she's able to stack the deck in her favour as much as possible, coupled with the fact that she's now got a honeymoon period for being a new government, and with the fact that she can blame her previous unpopular policies on the UCF..."

"...Your Excellency, I know you've had experience with elections... what can we do to beat the PFP? And Your Highness, surely you've dealt with other governments which have taken hardline populist positions against elves and other non-humans... in your experience, how can they be overcome?" asks Prince Constantine desperately.

The president look quite shocked with all the information that was thrown at him.

"Slow down there. First things first the one and most important thing in a democracy is that the people or your country must want it. Its no good if the people of your country don't want it.... so my advice is ask the people, ask them what they want then the you can put on the pressure of Princess Irene."

=/

I wish I could kill them all.

"I had something else in mind..." says Princess Anna, mischeviously.

"You've the look of your sister about you, Your Highness..." says Sir Constantine. "Be wary, gentlemen..."

"Hush, Sir Constantine!" says Anna, trying to restrain a giggle.

"You even nearly just giggled like her!" Sir Constantine points out.

"Hush!" says Anna insistently. "Since you now know how to play chess, at least in theory, Joseph... and since Simon would be honoured to play a game... why don't you two play each other?"

She raises a hand to hush any objections from either Simon, Joseph or Constantine. Only Constantine proceeds to speak anyway.

"Oh, a game of chess, that certainly warranted that look of mischief." Sir Constantine says, snorting in relief.

"I wasn't finished!" insists Anna. The playful smile so often found on her sister's visage displays itself broadly across her face. She changes her expression to one of faux-seriousness. "The winner may kiss me."

"Now hold on..." says Sir Constantine.

"Ah, Constantine!" says Anna, placing a finger across the knight's lips to silence him. "Don't you have a duel to arrange with the good Inquisitor?"

She removes her hand and takes a seat watching the chessboard.

"Quite." says Sir Constantine. "Well sir, what about after your game of chess? Do you joust? We've a tourney field and ashen lances for such chivalrous displays."

And real lances just in case you win the chess game, monsieur. thinks Sir Constantine to himself.

Joseph smiles at Anna's playfulness. Being my first game, Simon will probably blow me out of the water. I just hope I get to see Sir Constantine knock him on his armored rear in the joust.

"While you are certainly sending me to my doom, I cannot resist your request," Joseph smiles at Anna. "I only ask that the certain loser have the privilege of accompanying you to the joust."

The President sat in a chair in his chamber, while JJ was busy reading the Busby news paper.

"Busby lost a game in the world cup, not doing to well this year."

No answer came. JJ peared over the newspaper.

"HARPER."

He turned round quickly. "Sorry what?"

"Whats wrong you just are sitting there."

Harper turned back round and just stared at the wall.

"There is something going on here and i don't like it."

"There something going on in every country." JJ replied smuggish.

"Not that, its just.... why the sudden change to democracy?" JJ peared once again over the paper.

"Err isn't that good?"

"Maybe..... i don't know i am going for a walk." The President stood up and walked to the door.

"I will stay here, enjoy your walk."

Harper turned back and left the chamber.

OOC: Any Prince or Princess or anyone want to meet President Harper, please reply.

Prince Constantine bumps (not literally) into Hugo and Harper as he walks around the palace grounds, writing in his PDA.

"Your Excellency, Your Highness," he says, greeting both men. "What luck running into you like this... perhaps you could give me some advice..."

"...for the first time in a few years, and the first time in my political career, we're having elections. I asked my father to reinstitute democracy because I reasoned that Princess Irene was so unpopular that I might be able to oust her faction of the old government, thereby getting rid of that extremist group which did things like making that infernal The Eternal Elf film mandatory viewing, all the anti non-human sentiment, of which my aunt was the leader." says Constantine, attempting to explain why the sudden return to democracy. "As you might have guessed, it has turned back to bite me. My aunt led a parliamentary coup and split my party in two. Her new Pantocratoria First Party is now realising all the dreams it had when it existed just as a faction of the United Christian Front. She can't get out of the elections, but now that she's the government she's able to stack the deck in her favour as much as possible, coupled with the fact that she's now got a honeymoon period for being a new government, and with the fact that she can blame her previous unpopular policies on the UCF..."

"...Your Excellency, I know you've had experience with elections... what can we do to beat the PFP? And Your Highness, surely you've dealt with other governments which have taken hardline populist positions against elves and other non-humans... in your experience, how can they be overcome?" asks Prince Constantine desperately.

Hugo gives a little chuckle." Quite frankly I know little of politics and have little use for it. I am a prince in tital only and on paper I am third in line of the throne, but not in practice. I am a soldier plan and simple but if I wereto give you advice, never back stab your enemies go for frontal assults on topicks the the deneral population disagrees on. Show the people that discrimination against races in this day in age is foolish.As I do believe your aunt hates Elvs? The more open you are to other races, multi-race countries will ally with you. This in thren will streangthen your country, nmost likly boosting the econimy making your people a little richer. If you get the comman person to rally behind you. If you get the average person to fallow you, you will win. Because there are more commeners then there are Nobles.
And if that dose not work, use military might to crush your aunts political party."

OOC:
Wow, Tharn seems to have stirred up quite an ants-nest - or should that be "swarm of locusts"?
I'm sure his intentions are quite honourable, but then, I can see how they could be misconstrued... and hey, you never know. Characters have a way of getting away from the player...

I'm assuming from other posts that it's been assumed Tharn and Theodora are already on their walk - fair enough. here goes:


IC:
As Tharn and the young princess neared the Encampment (Tharn had become so used to the place that it had, in his mind, earned a capital letter), the scene was one of well-practiced millitary routine. In the mess-tent several cooks (all of them Riders; in a mounted company such as the Wing, it's hard to accomodate civilian camp-followers, as that would involve sharing mounts) bussied themselves with preparing te next meal. In an open space at the centre, bordered on tree sides by tents, a group of men were engaged in weapons drill. To their left, around the stable-tent (which made up one entire side of the central area), others riders were attending to their saddles and other equipment - cleaning, polishing, oiling.

The one thing that spoiled this impression of routine and normalcy was the furnace. Built away to one side of the Encampment and looking very much like an afterthought (which, of course, it had been), it was surrounded by activity. A large proportion of the men around it were busy feeding it with fuel (a mixture of coal and wood) while the remainder spent their time checking that it, and the cluster of pipes leading from it, were free from leaks, pressure-induced cracks or other faults.

The pipes from the furnace led into another tent, also assembled to one side of the rest and looking somewhat the worse for wear (it was, in fact, one of the spare tents any well-prepared Wing carried with them, having been "retired from active service" due to age). It was similar in shape to the stable-tent, although rather smaller in size, and many of it's side-pannels had been furled up, leaving gaps in the fabric. The purpose of these gaps seemed to be for ventilation, as thick whisps of a greyish vapour (probably a mixture of steam and smoke) billowed out of them from time to time.

It was towards this tent that Tharn led Theodora, explaining that "the reason for the furnace, and all it's attendant plumbing, is to be found therein." As they neared the tent, Barl hurried over to them, glancing first at the princess - politely, if a little warily - and then at is general. This time, his eyes held an unspoken question, which Tharn answered in rapid, highly-inflected Elder-Wyrmbergii*:

"It is alright, old freind, I haven't gone public yet - we still have time to prepare. I have simply decided to let Princess Theodora here in on the secret - provided, that is, she will keep it..."

Then, turning to Theodora and switching back to English:
"Your highness - Theodora - I must ask that you keep the contents of this tent a secret. I intend to make them known very soon - in fact, it is the laws of nature who must set the deadline, and not I - but I would very much like to be the one to do so. Were the knowledge to leak out, it would rather spoil the surprise. Childish of me, I know, but... "

"Anyway," he continued, looking into her eyes, "I must know - can I count on your silence?"

*********************************************************************


*Elder-Wyrmbergii is an old folk-tonge spoken by the peoples of Wyrmberg and it's territories. The only part of Tharn's conversation with Barl that the princess would have understood was her name.

And if that dose not work, use military might to crush your aunts political party."

OOC: I hope that was a joke? :?
Although from what we've seen of the old bat so far, it wouldn't be a bad idea...

"Ah Varangians welcome", says the researcher inside the Locust van.
"These crazy Roanians crash into my van and storm inside speaking of esp and what their horroscopes said. Its all very strange. Me I am a poor Locust Researcher. We have a team in the field collecting research..."

Elsewhere Locust Cather was watching Tharn and Theodora enter the tent but he had to keep his camra fixed on the plastic locust he had put infront of his camra.
"urghhhhhh" he said, for it was an inconvenient time to be locust watching.

She then rises, turns to Simon and curtsies.

"Inquisitor," she says. "do you play chess?"

"Please, call me Simon." Simon winces at the constant rank naming. "Your highness, I would be honored." He nods to Joseph. "Greetings, your highness." He turns to Sir Constantine. "Tell me, Sir Constantine, when would be a good time for our duel?"

Joseph returns Simon's nod. "Inquisitor, please call me Joseph. May I stay to watch your game? I think it would help my understanding of the strategies involved."

"I had something else in mind..." says Princess Anna, mischeviously.

"You've the look of your sister about you, Your Highness..." says Sir Constantine. "Be wary, gentlemen..."

"Hush, Sir Constantine!" says Anna, trying to restrain a giggle.

"You even nearly just giggled like her!" Sir Constantine points out.

"Hush!" says Anna insistently. "Since you now know how to play chess, at least in theory, Joseph... and since Simon would be honoured to play a game... why don't you two play each other?"

She raises a hand to hush any objections from either Simon, Joseph or Constantine. Only Constantine proceeds to speak anyway.

"Oh, a game of chess, that certainly warranted that look of mischief." Sir Constantine says, snorting in relief.

"I wasn't finished!" insists Anna. The playful smile so often found on her sister's visage displays itself broadly across her face. She changes her expression to one of faux-seriousness. "The winner may kiss me."

"Now hold on..." says Sir Constantine.

"Ah, Constantine!" says Anna, placing a finger across the knight's lips to silence him. "Don't you have a duel to arrange with the good Inquisitor?"

She removes her hand and takes a seat watching the chessboard.

"Quite." says Sir Constantine. "Well sir, what about after your game of chess? Do you joust? We've a tourney field and ashen lances for such chivalrous displays."

And real lances just in case you win the chess game, monsieur. thinks Sir Constantine to himself.

"That should suit me fine, Sir Constantine." Simon bows his head. He's never fought a Roanian. Those ash lances could kill him in my hands as easy as a metal one.

Simon suddenly realises what Anna had said. "M'lady, that seems improper." He shakes his head. "I will not accept a kiss won in such a matter."

"Ah Varangians welcome", says the researcher inside the Locust van.
"These crazy Roanians crash into my van and storm inside speaking of esp and what their horroscopes said. Its all very strange. Me I am a poor Locust Researcher. We have a team in the field collecting research..."

Elsewhere Locust Cather was watching Tharn and Theodora enter the tent but he had to keep his camra fixed on the plastic locust he had put infront of his camra.
"urghhhhhh" he said, for it was an inconvenient time to be locust watching.

The Roanian captain spits on the floor. "I give you my word as a gentleman, that these people are spies." He grabs at the locust and squeezes. The plastic crumples. "If these were real locusts, they are guilty of a far worse crime, sabotaging your wheat."

The Upper Virginian officer nods with satisfaction at the Roanian's security. He admired people who knew how to protect themselves. That was one reason he despised the Excalbians. Self-righteous, bossy, arrogant and naive.

Arriving at the Ambassador's office, the Upper Virginian waits patiently until he is shown in. Entering the office, the man in the green coat extends his hand.

"Your Excellency, I am Colonel Wil Wright of the Dominion of Upper Virginia. It is my understanding that we are almost friends, for we share a common opponent. I hope we can find avenues for cooperation."

"I certainly hope you are not speaking of our Protestant friends, the Excalbians." The ambassador raised an eyebrow archly. Inside, he rubbed his hands together and cackled.

=/

I wish I could kill them all.


:shock: What?

Joseph smiles at Anna's playfulness. Being my first game, Simon will probably blow me out of the water. I just hope I get to see Sir Constantine knock him on his armored rear in the joust.

"While you are certainly sending me to my doom, I cannot resist your request," Joseph smiles at Anna. "I only ask that the certain loser have the privilege of accompanying you to the joust."

Simon's probably played before... I wasn't thinking very far ahead... thinks Anna to herself, Joseph's comments bringing some sense back to her.

"Of course, Joseph, that can be the runner's-up prize!" she says, smiling again. "But don't worry, I'm sure you'll acquit yourself smashingly."

"I had something else in mind..." says Princess Anna, mischeviously.

"You've the look of your sister about you, Your Highness..." says Sir Constantine. "Be wary, gentlemen..."

"Hush, Sir Constantine!" says Anna, trying to restrain a giggle.

"You even nearly just giggled like her!" Sir Constantine points out.

"Hush!" says Anna insistently. "Since you now know how to play chess, at least in theory, Joseph... and since Simon would be honoured to play a game... why don't you two play each other?"

She raises a hand to hush any objections from either Simon, Joseph or Constantine. Only Constantine proceeds to speak anyway.

"Oh, a game of chess, that certainly warranted that look of mischief." Sir Constantine says, snorting in relief.

"I wasn't finished!" insists Anna. The playful smile so often found on her sister's visage displays itself broadly across her face. She changes her expression to one of faux-seriousness. "The winner may kiss me."

"Now hold on..." says Sir Constantine.

"Ah, Constantine!" says Anna, placing a finger across the knight's lips to silence him. "Don't you have a duel to arrange with the good Inquisitor?"

She removes her hand and takes a seat watching the chessboard.

"Quite." says Sir Constantine. "Well sir, what about after your game of chess? Do you joust? We've a tourney field and ashen lances for such chivalrous displays."

And real lances just in case you win the chess game, monsieur. thinks Sir Constantine to himself.

"That should suit me fine, Sir Constantine." Simon bows his head. He's never fought a Roanian. Those ash lances could kill him in my hands as easy as a metal one.

Simon suddenly realises what Anna had said. "M'lady, that seems improper." He shakes his head. "I will not accept a kiss won in such a matter."

"Ah Varangians welcome", says the researcher inside the Locust van.
"These crazy Roanians crash into my van and storm inside speaking of esp and what their horroscopes said. Its all very strange. Me I am a poor Locust Researcher. We have a team in the field collecting research..."

Elsewhere Locust Cather was watching Tharn and Theodora enter the tent but he had to keep his camra fixed on the plastic locust he had put infront of his camra.
"urghhhhhh" he said, for it was an inconvenient time to be locust watching.

The Roanian captain spits on the floor. "I give you my word as a gentleman, that these people are spies." He grabs at the locust and squeezes. The plastic crumples. "If these were real locusts they are guilty of a far worse crime, sabotaging your wheat."[/quote]

Just in case you missed this.

OOC:
Wow, Tharn seems to have stirred up quite an ants-nest - or should that be "swarm of locusts"?
I'm sure his intentions are quite honourable, but then, I can see how they could be misconstrued... and hey, you never know. Characters have a way of getting away from the player...

I'm assuming from other posts that it's been assumed Tharn and Theodora are already on their walk - fair enough. here goes:


IC:
As Tharn and the young princess neared the Encampment (Tharn had become so used to the place that it had, in his mind, earned a capital letter), the scene was one of well-practiced millitary routine. In the mess-tent several cooks (all of them Riders; in a mounted company such as the Wing, it's hard to accomodate civilian camp-followers, as that would involve sharing mounts) bussied themselves with preparing te next meal. In an open space at the centre, bordered on tree sides by tents, a group of men were engaged in weapons drill. To their left, around the stable-tent (which made up one entire side of the central area), others riders were attending to their saddles and other equipment - cleaning, polishing, oiling.

The one thing that spoiled this impression of routine and normalcy was the furnace. Built away to one side of the Encampment and looking very much like an afterthought (which, of course, it had been), it was surrounded by activity. A large proportion of the men around it were busy feeding it with fuel (a mixture of coal and wood) while the remainder spent their time checking that it, and the cluster of pipes leading from it, were free from leaks, pressure-induced cracks or other faults.

The pipes from the furnace led into another tent, also assembled to one side of the rest and looking somewhat the worse for wear (it was, in fact, one of the spare tents any well-prepared Wing carried with them, having been "retired from active service" due to age). It was similar in shape to the stable-tent, although rather smaller in size, and many of it's side-pannels had been furled up, leaving gaps in the fabric. The purpose of these gaps seemed to be for ventilation, as thick whisps of a greyish vapour (probably a mixture of steam and smoke) billowed out of them from time to time.

It was towards this tent that Tharn led Theodora, explaining that "the reason for the furnace, and all it's attendant plumbing, is to be found therein." As they neared the tent, Barl hurried over to them, glancing first at the princess - politely, if a little warily - and then at is general. This time, his eyes held an unspoken question, which Tharn answered in rapid, highly-inflected Elder-Wyrmbergii*:

"It is alright, old freind, I haven't gone public yet - we still have time to prepare. I have simply decided to let Princess Theodora here in on the secret - provided, that is, she will keep it..."

Then, turning to Theodora and switching back to English:
"Your highness - Theodora - I must ask that you keep the contents of this tent a secret. I intend to make them known very soon - in fact, it is the laws of nature who must set the deadline, and not I - but I would very much like to be the one to do so. Were the knowledge to leak out, it would rather spoil the surprise. Childish of me, I know, but... "

"Anyway," he continued, looking into her eyes, "I must know - can I count on your silence?"

*********************************************************************


*Elder-Wyrmbergii is an old folk-tonge spoken by the peoples of Wyrmberg and it's territories. The only part of Tharn's conversation with Barl that the princess would have understood was her name.

Theodora looked very serious all of a sudden. She grasps the gold crucifix hanging around her neck by a silver chain.

"I swear I shall never speak of it to anybody other than you, and never shall I speak of it with you in anyone else's presence!" she pledges.

She lets go of her little crucifix and a curious and playful look reappears in her eyes.

"Can I see now?" she asks, with a grin.

***

From the window of one of the servant's quarters overlooking the Encampment, Princess Zoë glances down and watches Theodora and Tharn approach the mysterious tent together.

"Don't do anything stupid, Dorie..." she mutters to herself.

A fat, middle-aged man barges into the room.

"Madamoiselle, qu'est-ce que tu fait dans ma chambre!?!" he demands. The Princess spins around to face him, surprised. A look of horror appears on the servant's face, and he drops to his knees and bows.

"Altesse! Oh, mon dieu..." he says. "Je suis très désolée, altesse... je n..."

"Ssssht!" says the Princess. She rushes out of the room as the servant grovels, hoping that he didn't offend a member of the Imperial family by speaking so harshly to her.

Just in case you missed this.

Didn't miss it, I just have a lot of things to catch up with in this thread! :)

"That should suit me fine, Sir Constantine." Simon bows his head. He's never fought a Roanian. Those ash lances could kill him in my hands as easy as a metal one.

Simon suddenly realises what Anna had said. "M'lady, that seems improper." He shakes his head. "I will not accept a kiss won in such a matter."

Anna looks a little offended and embarrassed. I hope I wasn't being improper... she thinks to herself, second guessing her challenge.

"Sir, I..." she starts, "...I didn't mean to embarrass you, Simon. Think of it as a courtly competition. I would hardly be subjecting myself to any hardship!"

"That should suit me fine, Sir Constantine." Simon bows his head. He's never fought a Roanian. Those ash lances could kill him in my hands as easy as a metal one.

Simon suddenly realises what Anna had said. "M'lady, that seems improper." He shakes his head. "I will not accept a kiss won in such a matter."

Anna looks a little offended and embarrassed. I hope I wasn't being improper... she thinks to herself, second guessing her challenge.

"Sir, I..." she starts, "...I didn't mean to embarrass you, Simon. Think of it as a courtly competition. I would hardly be subjecting myself to any hardship!"

"As you wish, m'lady." Simon's eyes flash dangerously at Joseph. This is one game I have to lose. A woman's kiss is not a prize, or a trifle.

"Ah Varangians welcome", says the researcher inside the Locust van.
"These crazy Roanians crash into my van and storm inside speaking of esp and what their horroscopes said. Its all very strange. Me I am a poor Locust Researcher. We have a team in the field collecting research..."

Elsewhere Locust Cather was watching Tharn and Theodora enter the tent but he had to keep his camra fixed on the plastic locust he had put infront of his camra.
"urghhhhhh" he said, for it was an inconvenient time to be locust watching.

The Roanian captain spits on the floor. "I give you my word as a gentleman, that these people are spies." He grabs at the locust and squeezes. The plastic crumples. "If these were real locusts, they are guilty of a far worse crime, sabotaging your wheat."

"What the..." says the thoroughly confused Varangian. "Horroscopes? Locusts? ESP? Spies? That's it... all of you, come with me... we'll work this out at the base..."

"Of course, good sir. I am sure an examination will prove us right."

"Of course, good sir. I am sure an examination will prove us right."

"Yeah, yeah, just keep your hands where I can see them..." says the Varangian as he leads the Roanians to the Guard's HQ on the grounds.

"That should suit me fine, Sir Constantine." Simon bows his head. He's never fought a Roanian. Those ash lances could kill him in my hands as easy as a metal one.

Simon suddenly realises what Anna had said. "M'lady, that seems improper." He shakes his head. "I will not accept a kiss won in such a matter."

Anna looks a little offended and embarrassed. I hope I wasn't being improper... she thinks to herself, second guessing her challenge.

"Sir, I..." she starts, "...I didn't mean to embarrass you, Simon. Think of it as a courtly competition. I would hardly be subjecting myself to any hardship!"

"As you wish, m'lady." Simon's eyes flash dangerously at Joseph. This is one game I have to lose. A woman's kiss is not a prize, or a trifle.

Joseph sees the look in Simon's eyes. This fellow is a little too tightly strung. He really needs to find a way to relax. "Whenever you are ready, sir," he says to Simon as he takes his seat at the board. While he hates the idea of Simon gaining a kiss from Anna, Joseph thinks the chance to spend more time with her while Simon flaunts his prowess in jousting will more than make up for a single kiss.

OOC: Cardinal Friesz is waiting to meet the Archbishop of New Constantinople in the Death of Cardinal Duras thread.

The Upper Virginian officer nods with satisfaction at the Roanian's security. He admired people who knew how to protect themselves. That was one reason he despised the Excalbians. Self-righteous, bossy, arrogant and naive.

Arriving at the Ambassador's office, the Upper Virginian waits patiently until he is shown in. Entering the office, the man in the green coat extends his hand.

"Your Excellency, I am Colonel Wil Wright of the Dominion of Upper Virginia. It is my understanding that we are almost friends, for we share a common opponent. I hope we can find avenues for cooperation."

"I certainly hope you are not speaking of our Protestant friends, the Excalbians." The ambassador raised an eyebrow archly. Inside, he rubbed his hands together and cackled.

COL Wright raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so have the Excalbians deceived you? We thought your people a bit more sophisticated in the ways of the world. Perhaps, once the Excalbians have betrayed you, we may discuss this further. For surely they will. They are already busily at work attempting to thwart your nation from taking its rightful place as the leader of the Catholic religion. Ah, well."

Joseph sees the look in Simon's eyes. This fellow is a little too tightly strung. He really needs to find a way to relax. "Whenever you are ready, sir," he says to Simon as he takes his seat at the board. While he hates the idea of Simon gaining a kiss from Anna, Joseph thinks the chance to spend more time with her while Simon flaunts his prowess in jousting will more than make up for a single kiss.

OOC: Cardinal Friesz is waiting to meet the Archbishop of New Constantinople in the Death of Cardinal Duras thread.

OOC: Dealt with!

IC:
Princess Anna takes a black and white pawn, puts her hands behind her back, and puts one in each hand. She then produces each hand balled into a fist, holding a pawn inside.

"Joseph, since this is your first game, pick a hand." she says.

Joseph points to her right hand, and Anna opens it to reveal the white pawn. She replaces both pawns on the board.

"Well, it looks like you're playing as white Joseph, so please, both of you sit, and Joseph, you will have the first turn." she says.

OOC: I know Joseph is extremely intelligent, but Simon seems pretty bright himself, and he definitely has the experience edge if this isn't his first game of chess. Shall we stipulate that Simon wins the game, or shall we determine the winner in a random fashion (eg roll a D6, on a 1 or 2 the less experienced Joseph wins, on a 3 or higher Simon wins, etc)?

The two Researchers from the van, wearing white lab-coats and munching locust snacks made in the Zusayan Union follow along under the guards escort, their jackboots gleaming and marching in step automatically with the Varangians...

The two Researchers from the van, wearing white lab-coats and munching locust snacks made in the Zusayan Union follow along under the guards escort, their jackboots gleaming and marching in step automatically with the Varangians...

"What the... cut that out!" barks a Varangian. The group of Roanians, Zusayans and Varangians finds its way to the Varangian HQ, on the grounds of the palace. The patrol leader salutes an officer at the desk.

"Sir, we found these Roanians storming a van occupied by these Zusayans. The van had all sorts of strange equipment in there. The Zusayans claimed to be using the equipment to conduct experiments on locusts, but the Roanians claimed that they had determined that the van was being used to spy on the Imperial family and its guests using ESP..." says the patrol leader.

The lieutenant at the desk looks at him incredulously.

"ESP? Locust experiments? Corporal, go and bring that van back here. Sergeant, detain these men for questioning until the van has been analysed!" orders the lieutenant.

The Zusayans are escorted into one cell, and the Roanians into another, while the officer's orders are carried out. One of the Varangians confiscates the "researcher's" locust snacks, and tries one. His face curls up in disgust as he spits it out and proceeds to swear like a sailor in Swedish. He pulls out his rifle and tries to shoot the Zusayan whose locust snacks he stole, but his fellow Varangians pull the rifle out of his hands shouting.

"Let me kill him, he let me put that $#%@ in my mouth! I've tasted used shoe odor inserts which weren't as vile!" he barks in Swedish as his friends pull him away from the cells.

The 'researchers' pale at the prospect of the van being serched and the equipment identified. They were undone!

"We just obey orders!" said one.
The other tried to shut him up..."Ahem! There is nothing wrong with my tasty locust snacks! We just obey order to research them yes!"

************************************************************
At the van a figure appears upon one of the television screens, via saterlight. He is a caucasian in uniform with a patch over one eye and a scar running down his face. The initials upon his uniform read KGB-ZU.

"Operation-Scandal, why are you not at your posts. Come in, or be shot!"
he deep voice demanded.

A Varangian steps into the back of the van as he hears a voice.

"Hey Erik, come in here, there is a pirate on the TV!" he says in a thick Swedish accent.

"Sven, that's not a pirate!" says Erik as he enters the van. "That's a communist."

"How do you tell?" asks Sven, perplexed.

"He looks utterly humourless, idiot." explains Erik.

"This station is confusing!" complains Sven, as he looks for a button to change the channel. "What channel is the chariot race on?"

"You dolt!" says Erik, shoving Sven back from the panel. "This is not being a television! This is some sort of video phone, we should be recording it to help in the investigation!"

"I can get information!" says Sven proudly. "Mr Pirate Communist man, this is being Operation-Scandal, at our posts. Please to be continuing your transmission."

Erik slaps his forehead.

"You fu..." Erik starts before Sven hushes him.

"In fact, please to be explaining what exactly we are doing here, we are forgetting our orders, heh, yes, that is being it, we are forgetting our orders, please to be explaining them again!" says Sven.

"You're going to get us shot, you moron!" whispers Erik angrily, pulling the van doors closed. He climbs into the front seat and starts the engine.

"Just driving her back to HQ, as ordered, sarge!" he says in Swedish to his sergeant through the driver's side window. The sergeant nods and the van pulls away as Sven continues his conversation with "the Pirate Communist".

His eye blazes with hate.

"By the Red Flag of our Martyrs, the first and last words out of your locust-muncher* will be 'Comrade'....Comrade Drylock here. Comrade-in-charge of the 13th Directorate, Foreign-Negotiations, Covert Operations. Now you decadent Capitalist lacky, by the blood-soaked flag of the revolution, where are my...comrade-researchers?"


*mouth.

"Hey Erik this pirate is really uptight!" says Sven, laughing.

"Oh you idiot...." Erik groans as he parks the van.

"Comrade Drylock, by the blood-soaked flag of the revolution, I swear that the comrade-researchers went out for a coffee-break, and asked me to be staying here and take messages in case you are being calling, comrade." says Sven, pleased with himself.

"At least tell him you're a communist sympathiser or you like communists or something, moron!" barks Erik.

"Oh, erm... Comrade, I should also tell you that I am liking communists very much. Especially that attractive Chou Li woman who is giving me pretty pamphlet about locusts and workers controlling the means of production and such. I am liking her a lot. So please to be regarding me as sympathetic to the cause of communist locust pirates everywhere, comrade." Sven says.

"Comrade, can I be taking your message for our comrade-researchers now, comrade?" he asks.

Comrade Drylock holds up a peice of paper in his black-gloved hand and looks it over briefly.

"I''ll have those skivers nurseing injured locusts when they get back, by the glorious revolt against capitalism.
Right Comrade, Operation Scandal.
A Close monitoring of the Princesses Anna and this other one, Theodora - a secondary mission, might provide a royal scandal or something that could be...presented as such. Boy we get the good jobs! Ah yes Chou Lin, our cunning girl on the 'inside'. Or should I say comrade grasshopper."

He almost smiled.

"So lets have any pictures...the mearest kiss could be sensational news.
Funny views these mad-dog capitalists and Imperialists and God-Grovellers have...never did really understand any of it myself. Barenetted at few of them in my time i did, comrades..."

Joseph sees the look in Simon's eyes. This fellow is a little too tightly strung. He really needs to find a way to relax. "Whenever you are ready, sir," he says to Simon as he takes his seat at the board. While he hates the idea of Simon gaining a kiss from Anna, Joseph thinks the chance to spend more time with her while Simon flaunts his prowess in jousting will more than make up for a single kiss.

Princess Anna takes a black and white pawn, puts her hands behind her back, and puts one in each hand. She then produces each hand balled into a fist, holding a pawn inside.

"Joseph, since this is your first game, pick a hand." she says.

Joseph points to her right hand, and Anna opens it to reveal the white pawn. She replaces both pawns on the board.

"Well, it looks like you're playing as white Joseph, so please, both of you sit, and Joseph, you will have the first turn." she says.

OOC: I know Joseph is extremely intelligent, but Simon seems pretty bright himself, and he definitely has the experience edge if this isn't his first game of chess. Shall we stipulate that Simon wins the game, or shall we determine the winner in a random fashion (eg roll a D6, on a 1 or 2 the less experienced Joseph wins, on a 3 or higher Simon wins, etc)?

OCC: I think it reasonable to assume that Joseph loses. Although from Roania's last post it seems Simon may try to lose. If Roania wants Simon to lose, too, then I'm happy to let you use a die role to determine the winner. Sound OK? Also, elsewhere I'm posting maps of the Excalbian Isles and pics of our new aircraft carrier, if anyone is interested.

And if that dose not work, use military might to crush your aunts political party."

OOC: I hope that was a joke? :?
Although from what we've seen of the old bat so far, it wouldn't be a bad idea...

OOC: My person is looking at it from a soldiers view point if the aunt does not back away peacefully, wath else is there? 8)

Prince Constantine looks surprised at Hugo's suggestion.

"Sir, you aren't suggesting a military coup of the Imperial Government?" he asks, surprised. He turns to Harper to ask, puzzled. "This isn't how you conduct your democracy, is it Your Excellency? Your country doesn't have military coups, does it sir?"

Comrade Drylock holds up a peice of paper in his black-gloved hand and looks it over briefly.

"I''ll have those skivers nurseing injured locusts when they get back, by the glorious revolt against capitalism.
Right Comrade, Operation Scandal.
A Close monitoring of the Princesses Anna and this other one, Theodora - a secondary mission, might provide a royal scandal or something that could be...presented as such. Boy we get the good jobs! Ah yes Chou Lin, our cunning girl on the 'inside'. Or should I say comrade grasshopper."

He almost smiled.

"So lets have any pictures...the mearest kiss could be sensational news.
Funny views these mad-dog capitalists and Imperialists and God-Grovellers have...never did really understand any of it myself. Barenetted at few of them in my time i did, comrades..."

"Ah Comrade, I am having some photos of Princess Theodora being doing naughty things, comrade..." Sven starts.

Erik slams his foot on the brakes and start banging his head against the steering wheel, swearing profusely.

"She is being already in a big bourgeois fascist scandal here in our imperialist industrial complex, Comrade Pirate, er, Drylock. There is being a one year penance she must be observing given to her by the priest for some sin she is being confessing to him, comrade." Sven explains.

"You don't have photos, do you Sven?" Erik asks, dreading the answer.

"Yes I am having them Erik, my friend Johan is taking them, he is in the personal guard you are seeing..." Sven says.

"Comrade Drylock, are you wanting these photos, because I am having to fetch them from my barracks, or are you just wanting to be leaving a message for comrade researchers, comrade?" Sven says, turning back to the TV.

Joseph sees the look in Simon's eyes. This fellow is a little too tightly strung. He really needs to find a way to relax. "Whenever you are ready, sir," he says to Simon as he takes his seat at the board. While he hates the idea of Simon gaining a kiss from Anna, Joseph thinks the chance to spend more time with her while Simon flaunts his prowess in jousting will more than make up for a single kiss.

OOC: Cardinal Friesz is waiting to meet the Archbishop of New Constantinople in the Death of Cardinal Duras thread.

OOC: Dealt with!

IC:
Princess Anna takes a black and white pawn, puts her hands behind her back, and puts one in each hand. She then produces each hand balled into a fist, holding a pawn inside.

"Joseph, since this is your first game, pick a hand." she says.

Joseph points to her right hand, and Anna opens it to reveal the white pawn. She replaces both pawns on the board.

"Well, it looks like you're playing as white Joseph, so please, both of you sit, and Joseph, you will have the first turn." she says.

OOC: I know Joseph is extremely intelligent, but Simon seems pretty bright himself, and he definitely has the experience edge if this isn't his first game of chess. Shall we stipulate that Simon wins the game, or shall we determine the winner in a random fashion (eg roll a D6, on a 1 or 2 the less experienced Joseph wins, on a 3 or higher Simon wins, etc)?

OOC: You're idea works for me.

IC: Simon won fairly easily. Despite of, or perhaps because, he tried to lose. "My game, Joseph." He turned to Anna. "M'lady, I still feel that the kiss would be innapropriate. Instead, do me the honor of a token in my duel."

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

The Ambassador laughed at the Virginian, a long cackling laugh. He snapped his fingers. 15 legionarres walked inside and held their rifles to the man's head. "Tell me everything, and you may get out of here alive. This room is lined in lead, no-one will know what happens to you. What do you have against the Excalbians, and what is the profit for us?"

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

The Legionnares watched the communists condemn themselves. "You know, in Roania we shoot communists on sight. We have a much nastier fate for spies."

Comrade Drylocks eye gleamed with glee.

"By the slaughter of the Red Rebellion! Photos you say! O yes I want them. By the bolshevik battle-standard, I want them. This is a turn up. It will be workers-medals allround for this!"

He rubbed his leather-gloves in glee.

Comrade Drylocks eye gleamed with glee.

"By the slaughter of the Red Rebellion! Photos you say! O yes I want them. By the bolshevik battle-standard, I want them. This is a turn up. It will be workers-medals allround for this!"

He rubbed his leather-gloves in glee.

"I will be getting them for you when I am going to my barracks then Comrade Pira... Drylock." says Sven, happily. The van is now parked by the HQ, and the doors open as Sven is talking to Drylock.

"What the hell is going on?" demands the Varangian lieutenant.

"Comrade lieutenant... oh wait..." says Sven, saluting, confused.

"Sir, we have found evidence that the Zusayans are spying on us sir!" says Erik quickly, getting out of the van.

"Comrade Drylock, I have to go now. The bourgeois oppressor is onto me. It was nice speaking to you. By the way, are you being having a parrot for your shoulder to go with your eye patch?" asks Sven, curiously.

"Dammit soldier, move!" barks the lieutenant.

Sven gets out, and intelligence experts move into the van, taking it apart piece by piece.

Anna looks a little upset at Simon's request.

"Well, if you don't want a kiss..." she says, and reaches for a hankerchief to give as a token. She wrings it in her hands nervously. "...Sir Constantine is like a father or an uncle to me, Simon...."

She looks at Sir Constantine, a guilty expression on her face.

"You won't be betraying me by giving Simon your hankerchief, Your Highness." says Sir Constantine, reading her look. Little bugger needs all the luck he can get. he thinks.

Anna hands her hankerchief to Simon with an uncertain smile.

"Well, Inquisitor, you and I had better prepare for our joust. You have jousted before haven't you, boy?" asks Sir Constantine as he leads Simon down the stairs, outside the palace to the jousting field.

Joseph accompanies Anna to the Imperial box at the field. Jousts are already going on, and a small audience of courtiers is present. Jousting is a popular spectator sport in Pantocratoria, and it goes on for most of the day on the palace grounds as a source of entertainment.

The Emperor steps onto the field from the palace to the blaze of trumpets. He ascends the steps to his box and joins Anna and Joseph.

"Daughter, Your Highness," he says in greeting, his breath smelling of brandy (although he isn't visibly inebriated). "Come to watch the jousts? I was told Sir Constantine was jousting some young gentlemen, so I thought I'd leave my drawing room and come watch."

"That young gentlemen is Inquisitor Simon Darquis of Roania." says Anna.

As the two current competitors finish their joust in a draw, the field's herald steps forward to announce the next pairing. The small crowd hushes.

"Votre Majestie, mesdames, messieurs, je vous presente, le champion impèrial, le chevalier plus glorieux de l'Orde du Pantocrator, le chef domestique de la Garde Varangienne... Sir Constantine le Résistant!" says the herald.

The crowd cheers loudly as Sir Constantine the Hardy rides onto the field on his white charger, silver and golden armour covered in the Imperial arms. He rides down the length of the field, stopping in front of the Imperial box. He extends his right arm in traditional Roman salute to the Emperor.

"Hail Caesar!" he shouts. The Emperor nods to his champion and best friend. Sir Constantine rides to his position, adjusting his breastplate before being handed his lance by his squire.

"My breastplate is too tight..." he complains under his breath to his squire.

"Sir, begging your pardon, but you've put on a little bit of weight since you last wore it." replies the squire. Sir Constantine glances at him, his pride a little hurt. He was getting a little fat... and he certainly wasn't getting any younger. I can still show a young upstart how to joust! he thinks to himself, and grins in anticipation as he closes his visor.

"Et maintenant, je vous presente, de Roanie, un challenger jeune pour le champion impèrial, Inquisiteur Simon Darquis!" he announces. The crowd claps politely and awaits Simon's entrance.

Simon won fairly easily. Despite of, or perhaps because, he tried to lose. "My game, Joseph." He turned to Anna. "M'lady, I still feel that the kiss would be innapropriate. Instead, do me the honor of a token in my duel."

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



Joseph smiled at Simon. "Your game, sir. Thank you for a worthwhile lesson. Now," Joseph turns to Anna, "may I have the pleasure of accompanying you to the joust?"

Simon won fairly easily. Despite of, or perhaps because, he tried to lose. "My game, Joseph." He turned to Anna. "M'lady, I still feel that the kiss would be innapropriate. Instead, do me the honor of a token in my duel."

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



Joseph smiled at Simon. "Your game, sir. Thank you for a worthwhile lesson. Now," Joseph turns to Anna, "may I have the pleasure of accompanying you to the joust?"

OOC: :D Already replied to... that's why I had a placeholder there! :lol:

The messenger walk up to Hugo, hands him the letter, bows then walk off. Higo open the the letter and begins to thead the content inside. After a few minutes he mutters to him self. "For once my father did the right thing."
Ge folded the letter carrfully and placed it in his pocket. But then he reached up and took off the Royal Family crest pin from his uniform. He then put that to in his pocket.

"Prince Constantine on my advise about the military coup, don't do it. That is a last hope deal when all else has failed and there is no other way of restoring order. And military coups's tend to be very deadly, on both sides.
But if you let your aunt come into power, I have a feeling your country will chanhe for the worse."

Prince Constantine looks surprised at Hugo's suggestion.

"Sir, you aren't suggesting a military coup of the Imperial Government?" he asks, surprised. He turns to Harper to ask, puzzled. "This isn't how you conduct your democracy, is it Your Excellency? Your country doesn't have military coups, does it sir?"

"I can assure you sir, we do not do things that way in Busby. Like i said before our people decide who rules our country."

"Well, we are about to have an election, but as you know, my government lost power because our party split in two, and the bigger half was the half led by my aunt, Princess Irene, the new Chancellor, and I'm worried that she's stacking the deck against us..." says Prince Constantine.

"Well, you could fix the election but we never do that. Well the best thing to do is get out of this palace and start talking to the people. I think that Princess Irene isn't one of those people who want to speak to the people."

"No, but her policies are populist. Encourage hatred against non-humans, blame them for your problems. That sort of thing worked for Hitler..." he mutters. "We're neck and neck in the polls now."

"Thats the troubling thing about politics, well give the population something that you have never gave them. Something they will remember. There must be something?"

"Hmmm..." says Constantine, rubbing his chin. "I don't know... maybe we could do something about the shanty towns in New Constantinople... or lower taxes below 50%... or.... hmm.... I don't know. Good idea though, very helpful, Your Excellency!"

"Thanks ummm... one thing is there anything that Princess Anna likes that could get me into her good books?"

Tharn and the princess Theodora walked into the tent. Inside it was relatively light (due to the fact that many of it's side-panels had been furled up), but the visibility was reduced by periodic emissions of steam and smoke issuing from a raised platform which took up most of the floor space of the tent. Into the base of this platform ran the pipes from the furnace.

“Basically, this platform is one big radiator,” explained Tharn as he led the princess by the hand up a small set of steps to the top of the platform. “Be careful where you step – this part is insulated, but if you want to walk on the sand-covered part you’ll need some thick-soled footwear.

This is what we had to construct the furnace for - to provide the heat. As to the purpose of the platform, and the reason behind all the secrecy – well, she’s over there…” he said, gesturing towards the middle of the platform.

Through the smoke and steam, Theodora could make out the shape of a female Firedrake, curled protectively around something – or, to be exact, somethings. Three smooth, rounded somethings. It was difficult to make out what they were through the haze, but given the circumstances it wasn’t too hard to guess...

“All this smoke and steam is intentional, by the way,” continued Tharn. “We hoped it’d make it easier for Thaneth – that’s her name by the way – since they usually nest in the craters of semi-dormant volcanos, where the ground is still hot. We pipe in some of the smoke from the furnace, and vent some of the steam from the radiator, to try to simulate that environment.

Most of Wyrmberg’s ’Drake population nests in a single crater – the Caldera, on Menez Tan, the largest dormant volcano in the MenezHom range. In my country – Mulun – they nest in the crater of Mount Devadenn.

In fact, this is the first time a ’Drake has ever nested outside the MenezHom mountains. So we hope that, by mimicking the conditions, we can make it easier on her - you know, make it seem more homely.”

"Thanks ummm... one thing is there anything that Princess Anna likes that could get me into her good books?"

"Ah, quid pro quo eh, Your Excellency?" says Prince Constantine, grinning. "Well... she likes politics, so you're off to a good start there I suppose. Hmmm... hard to think of... I've never really thought of what my sister might like in a gentlemen!"

"She likes dancing I suppose... hmmm... if you can dance, maybe I can organise a ball for this evening, and you can impress her that way?" he offers.

"Thanks ummm... one thing is there anything that Princess Anna likes that could get me into her good books?"

"Ah, quid pro quo eh, Your Excellency?" says Prince Constantine, grinning. "Well... she likes politics, so you're off to a good start there I suppose. Hmmm... hard to think of... I've never really thought of what my sister might like in a gentlemen!"

"She likes dancing I suppose... hmmm... if you can dance, maybe I can organise a ball for this evening, and you can impress her that way?" he offers.

"Thanks i will get practicing on my dancing straight away." The President smiled then walked off. He didn't know what he was getting into he hadn't danced since 18 he knew a bit and he could play the piano and guitar but a long time ago. He just hoped he could dance at her level.

"Your Excellency..." says Prince Constantine, chasing after the President for a bit. "...just to be clear, we're talking formal ball dancing here, with an orchestra playing the music and everything. I'm sorry if you already guessed that, but I thought I should be clear. Dances in Busby may be different from those in Pantocratoria. I'm sure you'll be fine. I'll think more about everything you've said, thankyou very much for your help!"

At that, Prince Constantine leaves President Harper.

Bastianel turns his head one last time to the Imperial Palace "Anna, that was your name no?. I won't forget you, even after you die, I will tell to the little elven children of the light that is hidden inside the Pantocratorian Princess eyes. I will make a legend about the softness of your skin and the beauty of your voice. You will live forever inside my heart, no matter what, over the hate and the separation between our people, my love will go on, over any obstacles, you will see...I leave here my father, to take care of you and protect you from any harm"

He turns and starts to walk again to the airport, where the Aelosian dropship was waiting for him...

Princess Irene watched from the window in her chambers in the palace as Bastianel turned back to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator one last time before leaving. A satisified "not-quite-a-smile" spreads across her face.

The priest who accompanies her everywhere walks up behind her and starts rubbing her shoulders.

"No subhuman wretch will taint the blood of the Emperors of the Romans." says Irene in cold satisfaction. She reaches up to touch one of the priest's hands. She looks up at the priest.

"I hate them so, Michél." she says, her voice trembling.

"Ssssh.... Hush now..." says the priest, evidently named Michél, says soothingly, as he leans in and kisses Irene on the lips. With his other hand he pulls the curtain on the window shut.

The Ambassador laughed at the Virginian, a long cackling laugh. He snapped his fingers. 15 legionarres walked inside and held their rifles to the man's head. "Tell me everything, and you may get out of here alive. This room is lined in lead, no-one will know what happens to you. What do you have against the Excalbians, and what is the profit for us?"

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


COL Wright looked at the Roanian Ambassador and smiled. “I have been prepared to die for my country for most of my adult life. Your rifles do not intimidate me. And, while you may be right that no-one will ever know what happens to me, my associates who were monitoring me from a safe location will certainly know if I do not leave here alive. And, if I don’t leave here alive, you will never know what you might have gained from friendship with the Dominion.”

The colonel’s smile broadens. “So, shall we sit and discuss this like civilized men or do wish to blow my well-informed brains all over your lovely office?”

"Hmmm..." says Constantine, rubbing his chin. "I don't know... maybe we could do something about the shanty towns in New Constantinople... or lower taxes below 50%... or.... hmm.... I don't know. Good idea though, very helpful, Your Excellency!"

As President Harper and Prince Constantine are preparing to go their seperate ways, Ambassador Rev. Jacob Donnelly rounds a corner. He pauses as the President walks away, then steps over to join Prince Constantine.

"Your Highness, forgive my intrusion, but I heard you mention New Constantinople and the conditions there. I have wanted to share a word about that with you, if you would not find it intrusive into your domestic affairs."

Hugo walks to his room. Fingering the letter in his pocket all the way. Once in his room he sat in one of the large chairs. His mind in deep thought.
Minutes later he got of from the chair and changed into neat silver and black suit. Felling much better out of the military uniform he was wearing.
He then lft the room and went to see if he could get a audiance with Princess Irene.

The crowd cheers loudly as Sir Constantine the Hardy rides onto the field on his white charger, silver and golden armour covered in the Imperial arms. He rides down the length of the field, stopping in front of the Imperial box. He extends his right arm in traditional Roman salute to the Emperor.

"Hail Caesar!" he shouts. The Emperor nods to his champion and best friend. Sir Constantine rides to his position, adjusting his breastplate before being handed his lance by his squire.

"My breastplate is too tight..." he complains under his breath to his squire.

"Sir, begging your pardon, but you've put on a little bit of weight since you last wore it." replies the squire. Sir Constantine glances at him, his pride a little hurt. He was getting a little fat... and he certainly wasn't getting any younger. I can still show a young upstart how to joust! he thinks to himself, and grins in anticipation as he closes his visor.

"Et maintenant, je vous presente, de Roanie, un challenger jeune pour le champion impèrial, Inquisiteur Simon Darquis!" he announces. The crowd claps politely and awaits Simon's entrance.

Simon rides out. He holds the rein carefully. His armor sparkles in the sunlight, and the red crosses on his sleeves glisten like blood. He raises his helmet. "Für das Fürstentum, und für Gott!" He shouts, holding his lance aloft. He tosses his cape back behind him, and waves to the crowd. "Ehre ist mit Ihnen, Herr Constantine. Das rangelt sich meiner wird sein."

He gives a sharp military salute to the Emperor. "Begrüßungen, Kaiser!"

A sleek wooden sailing ship, finely carved and pearly white in color, its delicate sails billowing gently in the breeze, pulls into the port of New Rome. Prince Sandar, from the Holy Empire of Finara, stood on the deck. Some of his more modern advisors had suggested he simply fly. Finara did have a number of modern aircraft in its possession. But Sandar was a man of tradition and wanted to make such an impression on the Princess. Only two men travelled in the Prince's company, his personal priest, dressed in the robes of high ecclessiastical dignity, and his chief advisor, dressed in finery befitting his rank as a Marquis. Sandar was not one for large retinues. As the sailors from His Highness's ship unload the exotic spices, jewels, and herbs that he has brought as gifts for the ruling family of New Rome, mostly Princess Anna and her father, Sandar himself swings off the ship. His royal father had always told him that Finaran royalty are the protectors of their people and should be both athletically fit and able with the sword, and thus Sandar did not deign to allow servants to help him in disembarking. His priest and his advisor were less trim and thus allowed some of the sailors to lower them to the dock. When all three were off the ship, Sandar looked around for anyone official from the court, who might direct him where to go now.

"Hmmm..." says Constantine, rubbing his chin. "I don't know... maybe we could do something about the shanty towns in New Constantinople... or lower taxes below 50%... or.... hmm.... I don't know. Good idea though, very helpful, Your Excellency!"

As President Harper and Prince Constantine are preparing to go their seperate ways, Ambassador Rev. Jacob Donnelly rounds a corner. He pauses as the President walks away, then steps over to join Prince Constantine.

"Your Highness, forgive my intrusion, but I heard you mention New Constantinople and the conditions there. I have wanted to share a word about that with you, if you would not find it intrusive into your domestic affairs."

"Ah Reverend Donnelly!" says Prince Constantine, in greeting. "I wouldn't find it intrusive at all. Come, let's speak in my drawing room."

The Prince leads Donnelly to his chambers, and to his drawing room, where he offers Donnelly a drink of brandy and beckons for him to sit.

The crowd cheers loudly as Sir Constantine the Hardy rides onto the field on his white charger, silver and golden armour covered in the Imperial arms. He rides down the length of the field, stopping in front of the Imperial box. He extends his right arm in traditional Roman salute to the Emperor.

"Hail Caesar!" he shouts. The Emperor nods to his champion and best friend. Sir Constantine rides to his position, adjusting his breastplate before being handed his lance by his squire.

"My breastplate is too tight..." he complains under his breath to his squire.

"Sir, begging your pardon, but you've put on a little bit of weight since you last wore it." replies the squire. Sir Constantine glances at him, his pride a little hurt. He was getting a little fat... and he certainly wasn't getting any younger. I can still show a young upstart how to joust! he thinks to himself, and grins in anticipation as he closes his visor.

"Et maintenant, je vous presente, de Roanie, un challenger jeune pour le champion impèrial, Inquisiteur Simon Darquis!" he announces. The crowd claps politely and awaits Simon's entrance.

Simon rides out. He holds the rein carefully. His armor sparkles in the sunlight, and the red crosses on his sleeves glisten like blood. He raises his helmet. "Für das Fürstentum, und für Gott!" He shouts, holding his lance aloft. He tosses his cape back behind him, and waves to the crowd. "Ehre ist mit Ihnen, Herr Constantine. Das rangelt sich meiner wird sein."

He gives a sharp military salute to the Emperor. "Begrüßungen, Kaiser!"

"What the devil is that Roanian upstart muttering about?" Constantine asks his squire. The squire shrugs.

"Oh well..." says Sir Constantine as he levels his lance. He spurs his charger forward down the field towards his opponent.

Anna looks on from the box with Joseph, the tension palpable. The Emperor watches with interest, confident in his champion's ability.

A sleek wooden sailing ship, finely carved and pearly white in color, its delicate sails billowing gently in the breeze, pulls into the port of New Rome. Prince Sandar, from the Holy Empire of Finara, stood on the deck. Some of his more modern advisors had suggested he simply fly. Finara did have a number of modern aircraft in its possession. But Sandar was a man of tradition and wanted to make such an impression on the Princess. Only two men travelled in the Prince's company, his personal priest, dressed in the robes of high ecclessiastical dignity, and his chief advisor, dressed in finery befitting his rank as a Marquis. Sandar was not one for large retinues. As the sailors from His Highness's ship unload the exotic spices, jewels, and herbs that he has brought as gifts for the ruling family of New Rome, mostly Princess Anna and her father, Sandar himself swings off the ship. His royal father had always told him that Finaran royalty are the protectors of their people and should be both athletically fit and able with the sword, and thus Sandar did not deign to allow servants to help him in disembarking. His priest and his advisor were less trim and thus allowed some of the sailors to lower them to the dock. When all three were off the ship, Sandar looked around for anyone official from the court, who might direct him where to go now.

Six soldiers of the Varangian Guard in their dress uniform march forward.

"Your Highness," says the leader in a thick Swedish accent, whilst bowing. "Quarters have been prepared for you in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty the Emperor Andreus has commanded us to escort you to them. We are at your service."

Hugo walks to his room. Fingering the letter in his pocket all the way. Once in his room he sat in one of the large chairs. His mind in deep thought.
Minutes later he got of from the chair and changed into neat silver and black suit. Felling much better out of the military uniform he was wearing.
He then lft the room and went to see if he could get a audiance with Princess Irene.

Princess Irene is getting dressed (with the assistance of her handmaidens) when there is a knock on the door. One of the handmaidens opens the door slightly to speak to the page boy on the other side, keeping the door closed enough so that the page can't see the Chancellor changing. They whisper to each other before the page leaves and the handmaiden closes the door.

"Your Highness, Crown Prince Hugo of Western Might wishes to speak to you." says the handmaiden as she helps adjust Irene's hair.

"Isn't Hugo that half-breed part-elf?" asks Irene incredulously.

"I don't know, ma'am." answers the handmaiden honestly as she struggles with hair-pins. "Hold still..."

Irene finishes dressing.

"Tell Father Guillot that I've gone to speak to Prince Hugo of Western Might." says Princess Irene as she leaves the room.

The priest who follows the Chancellor around everywhere emerges from the bathroom, doing up his collar. His hair is still wet from the shower.

"What was that?" he asks.

"Her Highness left to meet with Prince Hugo, Father." explains one of the handmaidens.

Father Michél Guillot seems satisfied with the explanation, and returns to the bathroom to comb his hair.

A sleek wooden sailing ship, finely carved and pearly white in color, its delicate sails billowing gently in the breeze, pulls into the port of New Rome. Prince Sandar, from the Holy Empire of Finara, stood on the deck. Some of his more modern advisors had suggested he simply fly. Finara did have a number of modern aircraft in its possession. But Sandar was a man of tradition and wanted to make such an impression on the Princess. Only two men travelled in the Prince's company, his personal priest, dressed in the robes of high ecclessiastical dignity, and his chief advisor, dressed in finery befitting his rank as a Marquis. Sandar was not one for large retinues. As the sailors from His Highness's ship unload the exotic spices, jewels, and herbs that he has brought as gifts for the ruling family of New Rome, mostly Princess Anna and her father, Sandar himself swings off the ship. His royal father had always told him that Finaran royalty are the protectors of their people and should be both athletically fit and able with the sword, and thus Sandar did not deign to allow servants to help him in disembarking. His priest and his advisor were less trim and thus allowed some of the sailors to lower them to the dock. When all three were off the ship, Sandar looked around for anyone official from the court, who might direct him where to go now.

Six soldiers of the Varangian Guard in their dress uniform march forward.

"Your Highness," says the leader in a thick Swedish accent, whilst bowing. "Quarters have been prepared for you in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty the Emperor Andreus has commanded us to escort you to them. We are at your service."

The Prince smiles politely at the guardsmen. "Of course. Do lead the way." He then turns to his ship captain, "I assume that at least you and your officers will seek lodgings among the commons of New Rome. You are to send word to me when you find such, so that I may know how to contact you." The prince then turns and moves to follow the guardsmen, his priest moving immediately behind him. The Marquis waits another second before leaning in to say quietly to the captain, not wishing to be overheard, "Do make sure your men behave themselves as befits the representatives of a Catholic State. They will be the first impression the people of New Rome have of Finara." After receiving a muttered "Yes, my lord" from the captain, the marquis resumes his place in the Prince's retinue. Load bearers follow the company at a distance and turn over the gifts for the imperial family of New Rome to the palace authorities, until such time as Prince Sandar can present them before Emperor Andreus. After arriving at his quarters, Sandar says to the guards, "Please inform His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty that I am at his disposal and that I would wish to present him with gifts befitting his station, in token of my honorable intentions towards Her Highness, Princess Anna, and of the goodwill of my father, His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty, the Emperor Garathon of Finara, at his convenience, of course."

"I will do so, Your Highness!" says one of the Varangians. "Lodgings will be provided for your entire entourage, Your Highness, should you desire it."

"I will do so, Your Highness!" says one of the Varangians. "Lodgings will be provided for your entire entourage, Your Highness, should you desire it."

Prince Sandar considers a moment. "If there are rooms available near at hand, then by all means see that some are provided for the Marquis Aderiel and Father George. If not, then I would have them lodge with me. Father George has been my Confessor the whole of my life and the Marquis Aderiel my principal political advisor since I have been old enough for my father to entrust me with any political authority within his Empire."

"Begging Your Highness' pardon," says the Varangian. "I meant your servants and sailors and such. I had assumed that the Marquis and your confessor would be lodged in your chambers. Your chambers consist of several bedrooms, Your Highness, along with some other conveniences like a drawing room and living room. There is a lot of room, you needn't pay for your servants to be lodged outside of the palace."

"Begging Your Highness' pardon," says the Varangian. "I meant your servants and sailors and such. I had assumed that the Marquis and your confessor would be lodged in your chambers. Your chambers consist of several bedrooms, Your Highness, along with some other conveniences like a drawing room and living room. There is a lot of room, you needn't pay for your servants to be lodged outside of the palace."

The Prince paused a long moment. Apparently, he had not given much thought to the sailors. Finally, he looks back to the Varangian, "The offer is accepted. The hospitality of His Most Imperial and Catholic Majesty is more gracious."The Marquis fidgets slightly and looks meaningfully to Father George who stands silently. Seemingly missing the exchange between his retainers, the Prince just smiles his most winning smile at his advisors and the Varangian Guards, "Do forgive me for I have been away from court to long. It is the tradition of my line that every male of the imperial family must serve personally serve as one of her officers. We have always believed that the martial honor of an officer and the virtue of a Christian knight were qualities to be most cherished in an Emperor." Sandar then nods to the guards, waiting a moment to see if there's anything further before dismissing them.

"His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty will be hosting a ball this evening in the great hall, if Your Highness would like to attend. And now, with Your Highness' pardon, we shall depart." says the lead Varangian, bowing. The Varangian Guard depart, leaving the Finarans some time to rest, recover, and prepare for the ball this evening.

"His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty will be hosting a ball this evening in the great hall, if Your Highness would like to attend. And now, with Your Highness' pardon, we shall depart." says the lead Varangian, bowing. The Varangian Guard depart, leaving the Finarans some time to rest, recover, and prepare for the ball this evening.

"Of course." Sanmdar replied with a nod before retiring into the provided chambers with his advisors to rest and prepare for the evening.

OOC: Placeholder for where Tharn shows Theodora what the furnace is for - would post it now, but I'm going out any minute so I don't have time...

*Bump for anticipation* 8)

OOC: Posted it...

Hugo walks to his room. Fingering the letter in his pocket all the way. Once in his room he sat in one of the large chairs. His mind in deep thought.
Minutes later he got of from the chair and changed into neat silver and black suit. Felling much better out of the military uniform he was wearing.
He then lft the room and went to see if he could get a audiance with Princess Irene.

Princess Irene is getting dressed (with the assistance of her handmaidens) when there is a knock on the door. One of the handmaidens opens the door slightly to speak to the page boy on the other side, keeping the door closed enough so that the page can't see the Chancellor changing. They whisper to each other before the page leaves and the handmaiden closes the door.

"Your Highness, Crown Prince Hugo of Western Might wishes to speak to you." says the handmaiden as she helps adjust Irene's hair.

"Isn't Hugo that half-breed part-elf?" asks Irene incredulously.

"I don't know, ma'am." answers the handmaiden honestly as she struggles with hair-pins. "Hold still..."

Irene finishes dressing.

"Tell Father Guillot that I've gone to speak to Prince Hugo of Western Might." says Princess Irene as she leaves the room.

The priest who follows the Chancellor around everywhere emerges from the bathroom, doing up his collar. His hair is still wet from the shower.

"What was that?" he asks.

"Her Highness left to meet with Prince Hugo, Father." explains one of the handmaidens.

Father Michél Guillot seems satisfied with the explanation, and returns to the bathroom to comb his hair.

Ah Princess Irene We have never been properlly intoduced." Hugo gave Her a deep Bow."Hugo Lee of Western Might. And it is a honor to meet you."

Hugo raises from his bow"Let me get to the point to why I am here." Your Nephew Prince Constantine is giveing you some trouble in the polls for the up coming election. So I am here to see if I can help you in the matter."

Tharn and the princess Theodora walked into the tent. Inside it was relatively light (due to the fact that many of it's side-panels had been furled up), but the visibility was reduced by periodic emissions of steam and smoke issuing from a raised platform which took up most of the floor space of the tent. Into the base of this platform ran the pipes from the furnace.

“Basically, this platform is one big radiator,” explained Tharn as he led the princess by the hand up a small set of steps to the top of the platform. “Be careful where you step – this part is insulated, but if you want to walk on the sand-covered part you’ll need some thick-soled footwear.

This is what we had to construct the furnace for - to provide the heat. As to the purpose of the platform, and the reason behind all the secrecy – well, she’s over there…” he said, gesturing towards the middle of the platform.

Through the smoke and steam, Theodora could make out the shape of a female Firedrake, curled protectively around something – or, to be exact, somethings. Three smooth, rounded somethings. It was difficult to make out what they were through the haze, but given the circumstances it wasn’t too hard to guess...

“All this smoke and steam is intentional, by the way,” continued Tharn. “We hoped it’d make it easier for Thaneth – that’s her name by the way – since they usually nest in the craters of semi-dormant volcanos, where the ground is still hot. We pipe in some of the smoke from the furnace, and vent some of the steam from the radiator, to try to simulate that environment.

Most of Wyrmberg’s ’Drake population nests in a single crater – the Caldera, on Menez Tan, the largest dormant volcano in the MenezHom range. In my country – Mulun – they nest in the crater of Mount Devadenn.

In fact, this is the first time a ’Drake has ever nested outside the MenezHom mountains. So we hope that, by mimicking the conditions, we can make it easier on her - you know, make it seem more homely.”

Theodora's jaw hangs wide-open in near disbelief. Her playful eyes are as big as saucers in shock. Finally, she speaks.

"Firedrakes...." she says "...I've.... never...."

She leans in to take a closer look.

"Your country must be an amazing place, Tharn..." says Theodora, amazed. She looks up at Tharn and smiles. "Thankyou so much for showing this to me!"

She moves a little closer to Tharn, so that she is almost leaning on his side.

"Is Thaneth going to be alright? If this is the first time a Firedrake has ever nested outside of the MenezHom mountains... even with this furnace, is she going to be OK? Are her eggs going to be OK?" she asks.

Ah Princess Irene We have never been properlly intoduced." Hugo gave Her a deep Bow."Hugo Lee of Western Might. And it is a honor to meet you."

Hugo raises from his bow"Let me get to the point to why I am here." Your Nephew Prince Constantine is giveing you some trouble in the polls for the up coming election. So I am here to see if I can help you in the matter."

Princess Irene, dressed in her usual severe black and white, flares her nostrils as she stares at Prince Hugo.

"What would one of... your kind... want to help me for, Your Highness?" she asks bluntly.

AELOSIAN NEWS

The song "Anna Celeblöme Aglarglîn" (The silver shining of Anna's Eyes in the dusk), written and performed by the Count Bastianel Dephil, one of Aelosia's most talented artists, has been a sensation in the Aelosian population.

The song was inspired by a human woman of an unknown country, many rumors speak about a sad love story between the Count and that woman. The song is being translated to many languages, but the Count has specifically translated it into french and latin. However, he didn't made any comments about the song or about the rumors about its origin.

Due to the recient opening of Aelosia to the world, and the many Aelosian men and women fallen in love with people from another countries and races, the song has becomed a national and international success, and a symbol of the interracial love.

"What you say is true a elf or half elf would rather die than help you. But..." he reaches up and pulls off the fake skin on his ears revieling human ears. He sets the ear pieces in a pocket and reaches up agian taking out the elf contact lenses. He blink a few times." Ay much better, now I can truely introduce myself." Be bows agian" My real name is Ivon Lee FGirst son and heir to the throne of Western Might. To let you know your Highness Hugo is my cousin. He is the true Half breed."

AELOSIAN NEWS

The song "Anna Celeblöme Aglarglîn" (The silver shining of Anna's Eyes in the dusk), written and performed by the Count Bastianel Dephil, one of Aelosia's most talented artists, has been a sensation in the Aelosian population.

The song was inspired by a human woman of an unknown country, many rumors speak about a sad love story between the Count and that woman. The song is being translated to many languages, but the Count has specifically translated it into french and latin. However, he didn't made any comments about the song or about the rumors about its origin.

Due to the recient opening of Aelosia to the world, and the many Aelosian men and women fallen in love with people from another countries and races, the song has becomed a national and international success, and a symbol of the interracial love.

MINISTRY FOR CULTURAL DEVELOPMENT BANS LOVE SONG
In a move described by the opposition as "dumb-foundingly petty", the Ministry for Cultural Development banned the import, sale, broadcast, or transmission of the popular Aelosian love song Anna Celeblöme Aglarglîn which has taken the world by storm. When asked for comment, the Minister for Cultural Development said that...

....continued on page 35



"What you say is true a elf or half elf would rather die than help you. But..." he reaches up and pulls off the fake skin on his ears revieling human ears. He sets the ear pieces in a pocket and reaches up agian taking out the elf contact lenses. He blink a few times." Ay much better, now I can truely introduce myself." Be bows agian" My real name is Ivon Lee FGirst son and heir to the throne of Western Might. To let you know your Highness Hugo is my cousin. He is the true Half breed."

Princess Irene arches an eyebrow in surprise.

"I don't understand...." she says, looking confused. "If you're really Prince Ivon... a human... then... why come disguised as a half-elf?"

LT Mitchell tapped SGT Croft on the shoulder. "Anything yet on COL Wright, Sergeant?"

"No sir, he hasn't come out of the Roanian Embassy," Croft said nodding towards the monitor.

"Hmm. This is not good, Croft. I'd better notify HQ. Let me know the second you see something."

"Yes, sir."

As Prince Sandar prepares for the ball, the Marquis Aderiel slips out into the halls. He moves towards anything that seems like a public lounge, hoping to socialize with some of the other suitors and their retinues. He stops a passing servant, "I beg your pardon but His Highness wished to be alone in his chambers and I wished to take this opportunity to meet some of the other honored visitors. If there is some sort of public area..." meanwhile, Sandar prepares for the ball and to present his gifts to the Emperor, whichever might come first. He is given the sacrament of confession, washes, changes, and takes a brief nap.

The President in his chamber was getting ready for the ball. He had his military uniform on, his hat placed on his bed and he was at the mirror combing his hair. He was pretty nervous, he didn't want to embarris himself. He continued to try and remember the dancing moves, but the lack of sleep he was getting didn't help. A few moments later JJ came through the door, in his uniform. His uniform was of the Busby Air Force, while the Presidents was a Marine uniform, even though he had been in the air force.

"You ready Harper?"

"Yea almost." He replied.

"God i hate formal balls, so tense. Would be better with a bottle of beer in one hand and some good music."

"Yea well, we are the guest we accept what they have to offer anyway the formal balls back in Busby wasn't that bad." The President Argued.

"Not that bad...." JJ replied "Bloody awful, and so boring. All it was, was a guy talking none stop."

"What about that guy from Crapes, that ball was formal?"

"Yea, but you could have a laugh with him, anyway i knew him from the Amerigo War."

"I thought Crapes wasn't envolved, they only brought supplies." THe president said.

"Yea, i met him on a supply boat."

"Well ok i am ready. Lets go."

"Lead the way oh capitan." JJ said joking.

"Very funny just get out."

Harper gave JJ a little push and they both put on their hats and headed to the ball.

"It is to ruin his reputation your Highness. That Half breed elf has been a pain in my fathers and I side for years. And were just now able to get him out of the royal family. But he still holds to much power for me and my fathers liking.
Say if I was to help you with you winning the upcoming elections, than maybe you might help me get rid of a curtian pest."

"What the devil is that Roanian upstart muttering about?" Constantine asks his squire. The squire shrugs.

"Oh well..." says Sir Constantine as he levels his lance. He spurs his charger forward down the field towards his opponent.

Anna looks on from the box with Joseph, the tension palpable. The Emperor watches with interest, confident in his champion's ability.

((For the Fatherland, and for God. Honor be with you, Sir Constantine. The joust shall be mine. Greetings, Emperor))

Simon spurs forward, his white charger driving towards Sir Constantine.

((How do we decide who wins?))

LT Mitchell tapped SGT Croft on the shoulder. "Anything yet on COL Wright, Sergeant?"

"No sir, he hasn't come out of the Roanian Embassy," Croft said nodding towards the monitor.

"Hmm. This is not good, Croft. I'd better notify HQ. Let me know the second you see something."

"Yes, sir."

The ambassador leaned back. "Talk, then. Tell us everything. Prove that we should let you out."

"It is to ruin his reputation your Highness. That Half breed elf has been a pain in my fathers and I side for years. And were just now able to get him out of the royal family. But he still holds to much power for me and my fathers liking.
Say if I was to help you with you winning the upcoming elections, than maybe you might help me get rid of a curtian pest."

"So you came here dressed as half-elf to ruin aforementioned half-elf's reputation?" says Princess Irene, confused. "Well, I suppose you have your reasons. Tell me, what did you have in mind?"

"What the devil is that Roanian upstart muttering about?" Constantine asks his squire. The squire shrugs.

"Oh well..." says Sir Constantine as he levels his lance. He spurs his charger forward down the field towards his opponent.

Anna looks on from the box with Joseph, the tension palpable. The Emperor watches with interest, confident in his champion's ability.

((For the Fatherland, and for God. Honor be with you, Sir Constantine. The joust shall be mine. Greetings, Emperor))

Simon spurs forward, his white charger driving towards Sir Constantine.

((How do we decide who wins?))


OOC: Has Simon ever jousted before?

Prince Sandar, unaccompanied, steps out of his chambers and heads for the ball. He is dressed in resplendent court finery: finely cut white breeches with golden trim, martial style high boots of black leather, a green silken shirt with the dragon of Finara displayed over the breast and one of the intricate sets of slashed sleeves so popular in royal courts. His belt is black leather with a golden buckle. His dark is worn short and his face clean shaven. He walks casually, hands clasped behind his back, head up, shoulders back, his fit figure cutting a pose reminiscent of the chivalry with which all men in his family are brought up.

AELOSIAN NEWS

The ShadowPrince Kithail Hyral awarded Count Bastianel Dephil, the famous author of Anna Celeblöme Aglarglîn, with the title of Prince of the Realm and a lot of privileges, raising the Dephil House to the status of Great House, after a private reunion between the artist and the Supreme ruler of the Empire. In a later interview the ShadowPrince just said "He deserved it, he's the best representative of the kind soul and sensitive character of the people of Aelosia". The new Prince Bastianel left the country just hours later, heading to an unknown destination. The award raised a scandal between many social circles in Aelosia, who are discussing about the Bastianel's humble origins and his lack of military merits to achieve the title.

The Baroness Paelisi, Head of the Cultural Movement, just said "He's a christian, for Isha's sake!, now are we giving awards to those who sell their souls to foreign countries and religions?. He doesn't represent the true soul of our people, An elvish song in latin?, give me a break!"

In Pantocratoria:
In the airport of Pantocratoria arrived a black airplane, suited for space travel. From the platform descends a figure covered with a bright blue hooded cloak, who approaches the Varagian guards and says. "I'm here to visit my father, he's the Count Kyrosal, Knight of Pantocratoria"

*Bump*

OOC: Bastinel's going up in the world, I see. Good for him - and, hopefully, bad for Princess Irene and her political party...


Theodora's jaw hangs wide-open in near disbelief. Her playful eyes are as big as saucers in shock. Finally, she speaks.

"Firedrakes...." she says "...I've.... never...."

She leans in to take a closer look.

"Your country must be an amazing place, Tharn..." says Theodora, amazed. She looks up at Tharn and smiles. "Thankyou so much for showing this to me!"

She moves a little closer to Tharn, so that she is almost leaning on his side.

"Is Thaneth going to be alright? If this is the first time a Firedrake has ever nested outside of the MenezHom mountains... even with this furnace, is she going to be OK? Are her eggs going to be OK?" she asks.

IC: "Would that we new, Theodora... only time will tell. We all have high hopes, but there is always the possibility that something..."
He sighed, then went on - "Of course, this is all pretty hard on Tonn - that's Thaneth's rider, by the way. He feels responsible for the situation, and if anything were to happen to the Hatchlings, I don't know if he could ever forgive himself."

"Did I ever tell you that Firedrakes are empathic? That's why the bond between them and their Rider is so strong. Well, from what I understand Tonn was so proud to be accepted into this Wing, and excited about his first mission, that Thaneth decided not to tell him she was about to Clutch. Their bond must be very strong - Firedrakes are naturally very territorial, which eis why one has never Clutched outside the MenezHom mountains before."

"Anyway," he continued, turning to look through the haze at the Firedrake's curled silhouette, "we should know whether the Hatchlings will be OK within the next few days. As their minds develop, their mother can begin to sense their feelings If she senses nothing by about a week from now, then we begin to worry..."

"She can also can tell us if they are feeling any discomfort so we can do something about it. Of course, in the wild, if a Hatchling were too hot their parents would move their egg to a cooler spot, and vice-versa, but here we'll have to make do with adjusting the temperature of the furnace..."

Then, a sudden thought made him turn to the princess and ask,"Tell me, Theodora, would you like to talk to her?"

Prince Sandar, unaccompanied, steps out of his chambers and heads for the ball. He is dressed in resplendent court finery: finely cut white breeches with golden trim, martial style high boots of black leather, a green silken shirt with the dragon of Finara displayed over the breast and one of the intricate sets of slashed sleeves so popular in royal courts. His belt is black leather with a golden buckle. His dark is worn short and his face clean shaven. He walks casually, hands clasped behind his back, head up, shoulders back, his fit figure cutting a pose reminiscent of the chivalry with which all men in his family are brought up.
OOC: We'll get right onto the ball as soon as the joust is over!

IC: "Would that we new, Theodora... only time will tell. We all have high hopes, but there is always the possibility that something..."
He sighed, then went on - "Of course, this is all pretty hard on Tonn - that's Thaneth's rider, by the way. He feels responsible for the situation, and if anything were to happen to the Hatchlings, I don't know if he could ever forgive himself."

"Did I ever tell you that Firedrakes are empathic? That's why the bond between them and their Rider is so strong. Well, from what I understand Tonn was so proud to be accepted into this Wing, and excited about his first mission, that Thaneth decided not to tell him she was about to Clutch. Their bond must be very strong - Firedrakes are naturally very territorial, which eis why one has never Clutched outside the MenezHom mountains before."

"Anyway," he continued, turning to look through the haze at the Firedrake's curled silhouette, "we should know whether the Hatchlings will be OK within the next few days. As their minds develop, their mother can begin to sense their feelings If she senses nothing by about a week from now, then we begin to worry..."

"She can also can tell us if they are feeling any discomfort so we can do something about it. Of course, in the wild, if a Hatchling were too hot their parents would move their egg to a cooler spot, and vice-versa, but here we'll have to make do with adjusting the temperature of the furnace..."

Then, a sudden thought made him turn to the princess and ask,"Tell me, Theodora, would you like to talk to her?"

Theodora looks even more amazed.

"Talk to her, really? She can... speak?" Theodora asks. "Is it safe to get closer to her? I'd love to speak to her Tharn!"

In Pantocratoria:
In the airport of Pantocratoria arrived a black airplane, suited for space travel. From the platform descends a figure covered with a bright blue hooded cloak, who approaches the Varagian guards and says. "I'm here to visit my father, he's the Count Kyrosal, Knight of Pantocratoria"

"Count Kyrosal is in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, Your Highness." says the Varangian, guessing that this cloaked figure is Prince Bastianel, since he called Count Kyrosal his father. "I believe he is either with the Emperor and the other Knights of the Order of the Pantocrator, watching the jousts, or preparing for this evening's ball. Please, follow me, Your Highness."

An immigration official wanders over to the Varangians and the Prince. She is carrying a clipboard, and hanging from a belt around her waist is some sort of device which resembles the shape of a gun, but which is clearly not a weapon, like a supermarket barcode scanner or somesuch.

"Wait just a moment, gentlemen." she says, looking at her clipboard. "This aircraft is registered as Aelosian. Aelosians have recently been added to the list of suspicious travellers by the Imperial Government. By Imperial law I am required to tag all suspicious travellers with a small chip which allows the Ministry for Public Safety to track them during their stay in Pantocratoria. The chip will degrade in your body sir, in about a week it will be gone, and if you stay in Pantocratoria, you'll have to be rechipped at that time. Would you please offer me your arm, sir? This won't hurt, you'll feel a slight pressure on your arm, and then nothing. There won't be any blood."

She draws the device, evidently a tracking-chip-insertor.

"Sorry, Your Highness," says the Varangian, disappointed. "but rules are rules. We'll escort you to the Imperial Court once the lady has injected the tracking-chip into you."

In the headquarters of the Varangian Guard...

A Varangian unlocks the cell in which the Roanian operatives were imprisoned.

"Gentlemen, you're free to go." says the lieutenant who accompanies the Varangian. "Your story checked out. We apologise for the inconvenience."

The Roanians leave. In the cell next to them, the two Varangians from the van, Sven and Erik, sit. Erik is banging his head against the wall.

"Have you men got any requests before I file charges with the magistrate?" asks the lieutenant.

Erik stops and opens his mouth to speak.

"Yeah, could we get some more of those sausages we had for dinner? They were good." says Sven, before Erik can say a word.

"I'll see what I can do." says the lieutenant as he leaves the room, glancing at the Zusayans as he walks past them.

Erik turns to face Sven, his mouth agape.

"You...." Erik mutters. "You.... I'LL.... KILL.... YOU!"

"I'm sure they'll bring you sausages too Erik!" says Sven, reassuringly.

"ARRRRRRRRGH!" Erik yells in frustration, and resumes pounding his head against the wall.

An intelligence officer enters the room and approaches the Zusayans.

"I've just gone over your van. How dare you spy on Imperial princesses like that!?! We've been unable to determine whether you're actual government spies or newspaper paparazzi, however..." says the intelligence officer bitterly. "...so I have to release you with a citation as unethical journalists. Your van has been seized and won't be returned, but other than that, once you pay a 500 ducat fine, you're free to go."

"Sir! Since they were just journalists, are we free to go too?" asks Erik, desperately. The intelligence officer turns to face him.

"Well, you've no charges to answer over talking to that... socialist pirate you described..." says the intelligence officer.

Erik breathes a sigh of release.

"So you, you're free to go." says the intelligence officer, pointing at Sven. He points at Erik, "But not you!"

"What?" Erik asks, incredulous.

"As you were parking that truck, you backed over my foot. One of my toes is nearly black!" says the intelligence officer, incensed. "So you're being held on the charge of assaulting an officer."

Erik groans and slumps back down. The intelligence officer opens the cell and gestures to Sven.

"Come on man, get out." he says.

"But... the lieutenant was going to bring me sausages!" protests Sven as the intelligence officer drags him out of the cell and slams the door shut on Erik.

The ambassador leaned back. "Talk, then. Tell us everything. Prove that we should let you out."

COL Wright casually sat in a comfortable chair across from the Roanian Ambassador. Ignoring the guards in the room, he crossed his legs and eased a cigar from his jacket pocket. He lit the cigar, took a puff and smiled.

“Glad to see that you’re prepared to be reasonable, your Excellency.” Wright took another puff and blew it towards the Ambassador. “I won’t bore you by telling you what you already know – that the Excalbians are self-righteous, interfering do-gooders and that they are desperately maneuvering to prevent you from forming a stronger alliance with the Pantocratorians in order to keep them as their own client state and that they are seeking to deny your Cardinal Richelieu his rightful place as the next pope.” Wright smiled. “But I will tell you about us. We are Excalbia’s neighbors and we’ve seen over a century of their interference and condescension. Right now, we’re pretty certain that the Excalbians are backing a terrorist insurrection in our country and we stand on the edge of war with them. A war that they are intent on dragging the Pantocratorians into as their allies.”

“Now, as for how this profits you. If we can find a grounds for mutual cooperation, perhaps we can find a way – together – to put Excalbia in its place and cease its interference in both our affairs.”


(OOC: Some of the events COL Wright refers to are here: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=66633)

"What the devil is that Roanian upstart muttering about?" Constantine asks his squire. The squire shrugs.

"Oh well..." says Sir Constantine as he levels his lance. He spurs his charger forward down the field towards his opponent.

Anna looks on from the box with Joseph, the tension palpable. The Emperor watches with interest, confident in his champion's ability.

((For the Fatherland, and for God. Honor be with you, Sir Constantine. The joust shall be mine. Greetings, Emperor))

Simon spurs forward, his white charger driving towards Sir Constantine.

((How do we decide who wins?))


OOC: Has Simon ever jousted before?

OOC: Depends. He has, yes. I guess he would lose or draw. Which would bring him more honor with the princess is unknown, I guess.



COL Wright casually sat in a comfortable chair across from the Roanian Ambassador. Ignoring the guards in the room, he crossed his legs and eased a cigar from his jacket pocket. He lit the cigar, took a puff and smiled.

“Glad to see that you’re prepared to be reasonable, your Excellency.” Wright took another puff and blew it towards the Ambassador. “I won’t bore you by telling you what you already know – that the Excalbians are self-righteous, interfering do-gooders and that they are desperately maneuvering to prevent you from forming a stronger alliance with the Pantocratorians in order to keep them as their own client state and that they are seeking to deny your Cardinal Richelieu his rightful place as the next pope.” Wright smiled. “But I will tell you about us. We are Excalbia’s neighbors and we’ve seen over a century of their interference and condescension. Right now, we’re pretty certain that the Excalbians are backing a terrorist insurrection in our country and we stand on the edge of war with them. A war that they are intent on dragging the Pantocratorians into as their allies.”

“Now, as for how this profits you. If we can find a grounds for mutual cooperation, perhaps we can find a way – together – to put Excalbia in its place and cease its interference in both our affairs.”


(OOC: Some of the events COL Wright refers to are here: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=66633)

The ambassador smiled wanly. "What you say is interesting, if it is true." He pulled out a Havana cigar and smoked it casually. "What do you have in mind?"

As Simon and Sir Constantine rush towards each other on their mounts, Joseph edges closer to Princess Anna and leans towards her ear. "This has been a wonderful day, Anna. I've enjoyed spending time with you. Could I ask you to save the last dance for me at tonight's ball?"

"Count Kyrosal is in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, Your Highness." says the Varangian, guessing that this cloaked figure is Prince Bastianel, since he called Count Kyrosal his father. "I believe he is either with the Emperor and the other Knights of the Order of the Pantocrator, watching the jousts, or preparing for this evening's ball. Please, follow me, Your Highness."

An immigration official wanders over to the Varangians and the Prince. She is carrying a clipboard, and hanging from a belt around her waist is some sort of device which resembles the shape of a gun, but which is clearly not a weapon, like a supermarket barcode scanner or somesuch.

"Wait just a moment, gentlemen." she says, looking at her clipboard. "This aircraft is registered as Aelosian. Aelosians have recently been added to the list of suspicious travellers by the Imperial Government. By Imperial law I am required to tag all suspicious travellers with a small chip which allows the Ministry for Public Safety to track them during their stay in Pantocratoria. The chip will degrade in your body sir, in about a week it will be gone, and if you stay in Pantocratoria, you'll have to be rechipped at that time. Would you please offer me your arm, sir? This won't hurt, you'll feel a slight pressure on your arm, and then nothing. There won't be any blood."

She draws the device, evidently a tracking-chip-insertor.

"Sorry, Your Highness," says the Varangian, disappointed. "but rules are rules. We'll escort you to the Imperial Court once the lady has injected the tracking-chip into you."

"I don't care about that chip. I'm just amazed that we are now....suspicious. Here's my arm, just do your job". He removes his hood, showing Bastianel's features, and shows his arm to the inmigration officer. "Just take to the court, before the ball starts, ok?"

OOC: It's worrying how much influence Irene now has - I'm sure the Emperor wouldn't have been the one to suggest microchiping Elves...
Let's just hope the Pantocratorian government doesn't end up like the Espero regeime...

Anyway:
Theodora looks even more amazed.

"Talk to her, really? She can... speak?" Theodora asks. "Is it safe to get closer to her? I'd love to speak to her Tharn!"

"Well, sho doesn't "speak" as such - not vocally, anyway" explained Tharn.
"As I said, Firedrakes are empathic - but it's a little more than regular empathy (if you can call such a thing regular...)"

"Thaneth can, if she wishes to, transmit an impression of her feelings, and to an extent her thoughts. The communication is not in words, but is very easy to understand. She can also read your feelings, and if you think what you want to say to her loudly, so to speak, she will understand you. She can also understand if you speak out loud, but can't reply in kind - 'Drakes haven't got the right kind of vocal chords."

"Anyway, we'd better get you some riding-boots to wear - you'll need them for their thick soles: the sands are quite hot"

The two jousters collide against one another, their lances shatter against each other's breastplates. Simon is lifted out of his saddle and falls to Earth, but Sir Constantine takes the blow and rides on. He has never been known as the sort of combatant who avoids blows - he just soaks up the damage with his big frame. He often jokes with the Emperor that if he had avoided a few more and didn't get quite as many scars, he would be called Sir Constantine the Handsome.

Anna sighs in relief as the squires who rush forward to check on Simon signal that he is fine. The young Roanian gets to his feet, unharmed, and the crowd applauds his efforts.

"Yes of course, Joseph, I'd like that very much. I'm just so glad Sir Constantine is OK... he's too old to be jousting. And Simon is lucky, I'm glad he wasn't hurt. Jousting can be very dangerous." says Anna to Prince Joseph.

But something isn't right. As his horse trots down the length of the field, Sir Constantine drops his broken truncheon, and slumps forward. A moment later he falls out of his saddle altogether.

The Emperor stands in his box. Anna gasps. Constantine's squire rushes over, followed by the people who were attending to Simon. They pull off Sir Constantine's breastplate, and rip open his undershirt. Already a massive bruise has formed where Simon's lance shattered against his chest, but that doesn't seem to concern the squires as they listen to his heart beat and breathing, check his pulse, pull open his eyelids and so on.

"GET OFF ME!" the knight roars as he comes too.

Anna holds her hand up to her mouth as Sir Constantine throws the squires off and struggles to his feet. He staggers forward a few steps before he starts falling down again, only to be caught by the squires around him. Sir Constantine walks, assisted by them, back to the palace infirmary, conveniently located next to the tournament field.

The Emperor leaves the Imperial box and follows to the infirmary, the crowd parting in front of him and bowing deeply as he strides purposefully to his injured friend.

"Oh Joseph..." Anna blurts, tears forming in her eyes.

A page enters the box.

"Your Imperial Highnesses, Prince Constantine bids me to remind you both that a ball is starting shortly, and that you'd best prepare." he says timidly.

Anna looks aghast. She looks up at Joseph for guidance.

"I don't care about that chip. I'm just amazed that we are now....suspicious. Here's my arm, just do your job". He removes his hood, showing Bastianel's features, and shows his arm to the inmigration officer. "Just take to the court, before the ball starts, ok?"

The immigration officer gently injects the chip into Bastianel's arm.

"I'm sorry Your Highness," she says, recognising Bastianel's face. "But those are the rules. I didn't make them."

The Varangians start to lead Bastianel away. The immigration officer rushes after them.

"One more thing..." she says with a smile, "I loved Anna Celeblöme Aglarglîn!"

As the entourage leads Bastianel to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, they leave the immigration official standing back near the plane. Two men dressed in the black uniform of the Ministry of Cultural Development approach her. They grab her, turn her around, and handcuff her hands behind her back.

"Are you aware that listening to that elven mind-destroying love song is forbidden by the Act of Musical Cultural Purity, section seven, subsection 3A? You're under arrest." says one of the officials as they pull her by the arm to a nearby car.

"But I... I..." she protests, but is silence by a sharp slap to the mouth by the other Ministry of Cultural Development official.

"Keep your mouth shut, elf-lover!" he barks, and shoves her into the car.

The first official slams the car door shut, then the two men get in the front seats and drive off.

"Well, sho doesn't "speak" as such - not vocally, anyway" explained Tharn.
"As I said, Firedrakes are empathic - but it's a little more than regular empathy (if you can call such a thing regular...)"

"Thaneth can, if she wishes to, transmit an impression of her feelings, and to an extent her thoughts. The communication is not in words, but is very easy to understand. She can also read your feelings, and if you think what you want to say to her loudly, so to speak, she will understand you. She can also understand if you speak out loud, but can't reply in kind - 'Drakes haven't got the right kind of vocal chords."

"Anyway, we'd better get you some riding-boots to wear - you'll need them for their thick soles: the sands are quite hot"

"Amazing..." Theodora says, looking up at Tharn. "This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"

She looks down at her formal wear shoes.

"Do you have riding boots in my size?" she asks, disarmingly.

Basitanel entered the jousting camp, surrounded by his guards. He was smiling...remembering the words of the inmigration officerso, not all the people of this country agree to the rules of that...woman, I have a work to do. I need to speak with the Emperor, with my father, with the opposing parties...and to Anna of course, I made this long trip just to see her face again.

He entered the field just to watch Sir Constantine raising from the floor. I see, jousting, this is exactly what I need...., he slowly approaches the Emperor's seat, going down to his knees...

"Yes of course, Joseph, I'd like that very much. I'm just so glad Sir Constantine is OK... he's too old to be jousting. And Simon is lucky, I'm glad he wasn't hurt. Jousting can be very dangerous." says Anna to Prince Joseph.

But something isn't right. As his horse trots down the length of the field, Sir Constantine drops his broken truncheon, and slumps forward. A moment later he falls out of his saddle altogether.

The Emperor stands in his box. Anna gasps. Constantine's squire rushes over, followed by the people who were attending to Simon. They pull off Sir Constantine's breastplate, and rip open his undershirt. Already a massive bruise has formed where Simon's lance shattered against his chest, but that doesn't seem to concern the squires as they listen to his heart beat and breathing, check his pulse, pull open his eyelids and so on.

"GET OFF ME!" the knight roars as he comes too.

Anna holds her hand up to her mouth as Sir Constantine throws the squires off and struggles to his feet. He staggers forward a few steps before he starts falling down again, only to be caught by the squires around him. Sir Constantine walks, assisted by them, back to the palace infirmary, conveniently located next to the tournament field.

The Emperor leaves the Imperial box and follows to the infirmary, the crowd parting in front of him and bowing deeply as he strides purposefully to his injured friend.

"Oh Joseph..." Anna blurts, tears forming in her eyes.

A page enters the box.

"Your Imperial Highnesses, Prince Constantine bids me to remind you both that a ball is starting shortly, and that you'd best prepare." he says timidly.

Anna looks aghast. She looks up at Joseph for guidance.

Joseph gently touches Anna's shoulder and tries to comfort her. "Would you like to go to the infirmary to check on Sir Constantine? Let me go with you. Then, if there isn't any word yet, you can go and prepare and I'll stay and wait for word from the doctors. I can send word to you as soon they know anything. I'm sure they'll be able to take care him. Shall we go?" Joseph stands and offers Anna a steadying arm.

COL Wright casually sat in a comfortable chair across from the Roanian Ambassador. Ignoring the guards in the room, he crossed his legs and eased a cigar from his jacket pocket. He lit the cigar, took a puff and smiled.

“Glad to see that you’re prepared to be reasonable, your Excellency.” Wright took another puff and blew it towards the Ambassador. “I won’t bore you by telling you what you already know – that the Excalbians are self-righteous, interfering do-gooders and that they are desperately maneuvering to prevent you from forming a stronger alliance with the Pantocratorians in order to keep them as their own client state and that they are seeking to deny your Cardinal Richelieu his rightful place as the next pope.” Wright smiled. “But I will tell you about us. We are Excalbia’s neighbors and we’ve seen over a century of their interference and condescension. Right now, we’re pretty certain that the Excalbians are backing a terrorist insurrection in our country and we stand on the edge of war with them. A war that they are intent on dragging the Pantocratorians into as their allies.”

“Now, as for how this profits you. If we can find a grounds for mutual cooperation, perhaps we can find a way – together – to put Excalbia in its place and cease its interference in both our affairs.”


(OOC: Some of the events COL Wright refers to are here: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=66633)

The ambassador smiled wanly. "What you say is interesting, if it is true." He pulled out a Havana cigar and smoked it casually. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well," COL Wright took another puff on his cigar, "we have a prime target here in Pantocratoria. Prince Joseph has become a thorn in your side when it comes to cementing your alliance with Pantocratoria with a royal marriage. If something were to happen to him, something that could be blamed on suitable terrorists and deliver him into hands that could use him to good political advantage, that might be beneficial to you and to the Dominion."

"Do you have any thoughts on what dangers might befall the prince?"

*Bump*

Simon swore and took off after Sir Constantine. "Sir Constantine! Are you well?" He enters the infirmary. "Stupid, stupid. I almost killed him. What must Anna think of me?" Simon collapses, his own pain barely registering. Then he feels something on his side. He lowers his hand. And raises it. The lance had splintered, and some of it had obviously gotten into his skin. His hand was red with blood. "Oh..."

He collapsed.

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

((OOC: UV, that was a mistake. Manipulation and intrigue are all well and good, and murder of commoners or lowranking nobles is fine, but a prince? No Roanian would ever contenance an assassination of such a high noble. It goes against the game, and against honor.))

The ambassador stops. He drops his cigar to the ground. Around him, the legionnares stare at Colonel, hatred and murder in their eyes. The ambassador speaks, slowly, as if to a fool. "Get out. Get out of this building, and count yourself lucky I don't order you shot." He almost shouted. When he spoke again, his voice was tightly controlled. "Count yourself lucky if I don't report every word of this conversation to your superiors. They would be aghast, I am sure. Begone. Make your threats, declare war on Roania or Excalbia, I care not." He stood up, a muscle pulsing. "Cardinal Richelieu has nothing but the church's best interests in mind. How dare you claim otherwise, even by implication. Walsh is a fine man, and we shall support him if he is elected. If you can find proof they support the rebels, then we may consider actions along those lines. Solid proof. Good day to you."

The door opened and 10 Legionarres politely, but firmly, escorted Wright outside. The massive door swung shut, and automated security systems whirred into place.

*Le bump*

Anna took Joseph's arm and the two rushes to the infirmary. The Emperor has a look of "concerned relief" on his face. Sir Constantine is lying on a bed with electrodes attached to his chest, monitoring his heartbeat.

"He's alright, Anna." says the Emperor, reassuringly.

"Sir Constantine!" Anna says, grabbing one of his big, tough old hands. "What happened?"

"I got hit, with a lance." Sir Constantine says gruffly. "I'm fine."

"The lance wasn't your problem..." says the doctor. He slaps Sir Constantine's belly. "...this was. You had a heart attack."

"Bah! I got hit by a lance, I feel fine!" protests Sir Constantine.

"You shouldn't be jousting anymore, Sir Constantine. Your heart isn't up to the exertion. This was only a mild heart attack. We should be able to clear the blockage which caused it with an angioplasty. You'll need to lose this excess weight too." says the doctor, matter of factly. "But you will be alright."

Anna stands by silent, squeezing Sir Constantine's hand.

"I'll be alright, alright." says Sir Constantine reassuringly to Anna. "You run along and enjoy the ball. You need to get dressed!"

"I want to stay here with..." Anna starts.

At this time, Bastianel enters the infirmary and kneels at the Emperor's feet. The Emperor motions him to stand.

Anna is silent. She can hardly believe that Bastianel is back.

"You see, you want to run along and enjoy the ball. Go on, run along." Sir Constantine urges. "You look after her, Prince Joseph."

"Come, we'll all go and get ready. Come with us, Prince Bastianel!" says the Emperor as he leads them out of the infirmary to the palace.

"So, doctor..." says Sir Constantine. "Have you checked on that Roanian? I think I hit him pretty hard..."

"...yes... you did." says the doctor. He pulls the curtain next to Sir Constantine's bed back, revealing Simon Darquis having the wound in his side attended to. "Part of your lance splintered behind the ashen head and stabbed him. He'll be alright, although barring some miracle, I don't see how he'll be making it to the ball."

Sir Constantine snorts.

"He needs a few good scars anyway." he says dismissively.

"It is to ruin his reputation your Highness. That Half breed elf has been a pain in my fathers and I side for years. And were just now able to get him out of the royal family. But he still holds to much power for me and my fathers liking.
Say if I was to help you with you winning the upcoming elections, than maybe you might help me get rid of a curtian pest."

"So you came here dressed as half-elf to ruin aforementioned half-elf's reputation?" says Princess Irene, confused. "Well, I suppose you have your reasons. Tell me, what did you have in mind?"

OOC: Sorry about not posting sooner, my life wasa little kectic the lat few days. If I am to far behind then i will bow out gracfully from the RP.

IC:You nephew will use our hatered for elfs and other such races against you. If you were to prove him wrong by shoving up to several public evens along side a elf and and show your support to a couter elven or haf elven to your neice. It just might move you up in the polls."

The orchestra has been setup in the great hall of the palace an hour later. Prince Constantine, dressed in a black and white dinner suit with an Imperial purple sash, is trying to entertain the guests. Princess Zoë, dressed in a pure white gown, joins him.

"Zoë, where's Theodora?" asks Prince Constantine. "I know Anna and father were delayed by Sir Constantine's heart attack, but where is Theodora?"

"Sir Constantine had a heart attack?" asks Zoë, alarmed.

"Yes, but you needn't worry, I'm told he'll be fine. It was very mild. Now answer my question!" says Constantine.

"You won't tell father?" she asks, concerned.

"Oh God what has she done this time?" asks Constantine, expecting the worst.

"Nothing, well... I don't know, but I didn't see her do anything, it's just..." Zoë bites her lip. "Everyone jumps to the worst possible conclusion when we talk about Dorie!"

"Out with it, Zoë, where is she?" demands Constantine.

"She... went into a tent with Prince Tharn in the Wyrmberg encampment." says Zoë quietly.

"Well.... it is probably totally innocent but....." Prince Constantine says. "...I'll go check on her. If the ball starts while I'm gone, you make sure that President Harper gets the first dance with Anna. We've frightfully neglected him."

Prince Constantine hurries out of the hall. No sooner has he left than the orchestra starts playing "God Save the Emperor", and the room falls silent. Emperor Andreus enters the hall. Walking alongside him is Princess Anna, dressed in a splending white ballroom gown, decorated with gold, silver and diamond jewellry.

"His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty the Emperor Andreus I Capet, by the Grace of God, Sanctus Imperator Pantocratoria, accompanied by Her Imperial Highness the Most Pious Princess Anna." proclaims a herald as the Emperor sits in the Throne of St Constantine the Great.

"Honoured guests," begins the Emperor. "The time for decisions grows near. Soon, one of you will be the successful suitor for the hand of my dear daughter Anna. But for now, dance, enjoy yourselves. There'll be plenty of dances for you all to get the pleasure of dancing with my daughter."

The Emperor looks over at Anna, standing next to Zoë. His expression suddenly turns dark as he realises Theodora isn't there. He sits down, and orders a brandy brought to him as the orchestra starts playing a classical dance. Princess Anna glances over at President Harper expectantly. It wouldn't be proper for her to ask him to dance, so she waits for him to ask her.

"It is to ruin his reputation your Highness. That Half breed elf has been a pain in my fathers and I side for years. And were just now able to get him out of the royal family. But he still holds to much power for me and my fathers liking.
Say if I was to help you with you winning the upcoming elections, than maybe you might help me get rid of a curtian pest."

"So you came here dressed as half-elf to ruin aforementioned half-elf's reputation?" says Princess Irene, confused. "Well, I suppose you have your reasons. Tell me, what did you have in mind?"

OOC: Sorry about not posting sooner, my life wasa little kectic the lat few days. If I am to far behind then i will bow out gracfully from the RP.

IC:You nephew will use our hatered for elfs and other such races against you. If you were to prove him wrong by shoving up to several public evens along side a elf and and show your support to a couter elven or haf elven to your neice. It just might move you up in the polls."

Princess Irene laughs dismissively.

"Your Highness, my government's stance on elves is one of the only things which is even keeping us in serious contention for this election!" she says, almost amused. "Picking a scapegoat has always been a successful policy. Besides, I would never, nor could I ever, endorse a... subhuman elf as a suitor for my niece. My niece is descended from the greatest emperors of Pantocratoria, the kings of France, the Roman emperors of Constantinople... to... condemn her to share a bed with an.. an elf, would be end that proud line of ancestors in shame!"

"Listen, Your Highness," continues Irene, "a ball has started downstairs. If you're serious about your suit, I think you'd better reintroduce yourself to Anna... as a human."

And with that, Princess Irene stands to leave.

Ivon shackes his head."Your highness wait. I did not mean a real elf. I was talking about me. Well me diguised as Hugo that is. I would have evidence planted to make it look like you nephew planed on comitton mass genocide on the elfs of your nation. Making him seem worse than you."

OOC: Roania, its nice to know that you are honorable!

IC:

Courtland – Capital of the Dominion of Upper Virginia

Sirens wail in the distance as the fires of the almost nightly riots burn in the slums west of the city. The sharp echo of automatic weapons fire sounds above the sirens. On the northern outskirts of the seething city GEN Craig Altman sits slumped over his desk in his personal military headquarters.

“What did that idiot do?” Altman slams his empty glass on the desk.

“Sir, Colonel Wright was following your orders,” MAJGEN Lawrence Hale, Chief of Intelligence, says nervously.

“My orders!” Altman roars, throwing his glass just past Hale’s head. “I remember my orders and I never ordered anyone to spook the Roanians and turn them against us! I know I never ordered that, but that’s just what you and your Colonel Wright did!”

Altman reaches into a desk drawer and removes a fresh class and a crystal bottle. He pours himself a drink and takes a quick gulp. Putting the glass on the desk, he turns to a colonel standing beside MAJGEN Hale. “Colonel Garheim, go to Pantocratoria and take charge of the operation. Take the proof they asked for of Excalbia’s involvement in the rebellion…,” Altman sees the question in COL Garheim’s eyes, “I know we have no concrete proof, but we have Excalbian agents meeting with traitors, a well-trained and well-equipped rebellion appearing out of nowhere and Excalbia’s navy provoking us in the gulf – I know you can spin that into something! Now go and take charge. And once you get there, the first thing you do is execute Colonel Wright. Understood?”

COL Garheim salutes nervously. “Yes, sir.”

MAJGEN Hale stares wide-eyed and starts to protest being undermined in front of his subordinate. But, before he can, GEN Altman raises his pearl-handled revolver. Hale is momentarily stunned and Altman squeezes the trigger. Hale’s body falls to the floor.

“You are relieved, General.” Altman lowers the gun. “You’re in charge, now, Brigadier Garheim.”

Prince Sandar enters the ballroom and bows to the throne, holding it for a long moment, slightly more than ettiquette demands. He then briefly surveys the room. As Anna is currently looking at President Harper, he doesn't approach at once and gives Harper the opportunity for this dance. Not wanting to seem the wallflower, he briefly surveys the ballroom for someone else to ask to joiun him in the first dance.

(OOC: Catching up a bit.)

Joseph touched Anna’s arm. “It’s OK, Anna, Sir Constantine will be alright. We should go so the doctors can care for him.”

As they head out of the infirmary, Joseph is surprised to see Prince Bastianel come in and kneel at the Emperor’s feet. While the Emperor is inviting the Bastianel to stand and accompany them to the ball, Joseph notes a strange look on Anna’s face. Is it surprise or something more?

* * *

"His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty the Emperor Andreus I Capet, by the Grace of God, Sanctus Imperator Pantocratoria, accompanied by Her Imperial Highness the Most Pious Princess Anna." proclaims a herald as the Emperor sits in the Throne of St Constantine the Great.

"Honoured guests," begins the Emperor. "The time for decisions grows near. Soon, one of you will be the successful suitor for the hand of my dear daughter Anna. But for now, dance, enjoy yourselves. There'll be plenty of dances for you all to get the pleasure of dancing with my daughter."

Joseph stands in the ballroom, dressed in the formal blue uniform of the Excalbian Imperial Army, gazing at Anna as she enters with her father. She is beautiful in her gown. Despite his misgivings about coming, Joseph has fallen in love. He knows in that moment that he wants to marry Anna. A smile comes across his face as he anticipates a dance with her. Of course, he knows she must acknowledge all her guests, so he will wait.

Harper notices Princess Anna across the ball room, she looks at him and quickly turns away. Harper hands his hat over to JJ.

"Keep hold of this while i dance."

"You dance?" JJ joked.

Harper gave a cold stare at JJ. Then he seemed to back down. "Go ahead" JJ said "I will be here."

Harper nodded and slowly walked over to Princess Anna, then extended his hand out and bowed.

"May i have this dance?"

Prince Sandar's gaze is drawn to Bastianel for a moment, having never seen an elf before. He shakes his head in faint bemusement before surveying the crowd once more.

Bastianel rises and starts to walk to the ball. He didn't greet noone except the emperor. As he enters the dancing hall, he removes his cloak, showing an amazing blue outfit, adorned with diamonds and sapphires, with a huge motive of the cross in his chest, and a beautiful and delicate elven hat with feathers of strange and exotics birds. When he passes near the place where his father stands he just nods. His appearance is like a Prince out of a fairy tale.

Now his face was different. His features were the same, but something in his expression changed. He was now more....mature, perhaps.

When the music starts, he approaches a little girl and invited her to a dance, making a very low bow, and extending his hand, "May I have a dance with you, my beautiful and fair lady?"

Anna took Joseph's arm and the two rushes to the infirmary. The Emperor has a look of "concerned relief" on his face. Sir Constantine is lying on a bed with electrodes attached to his chest, monitoring his heartbeat.

"He's alright, Anna." says the Emperor, reassuringly.

"Sir Constantine!" Anna says, grabbing one of his big, tough old hands. "What happened?"

"I got hit, with a lance." Sir Constantine says gruffly. "I'm fine."

"The lance wasn't your problem..." says the doctor. He slaps Sir Constantine's belly. "...this was. You had a heart attack."

"Bah! I got hit by a lance, I feel fine!" protests Sir Constantine.

"You shouldn't be jousting anymore, Sir Constantine. Your heart isn't up to the exertion. This was only a mild heart attack. We should be able to clear the blockage which caused it with an angioplasty. You'll need to lose this excess weight too." says the doctor, matter of factly. "But you will be alright."

Anna stands by silent, squeezing Sir Constantine's hand.

"I'll be alright, alright." says Sir Constantine reassuringly to Anna. "You run along and enjoy the ball. You need to get dressed!"

"I want to stay here with..." Anna starts.

At this time, Bastianel enters the infirmary and kneels at the Emperor's feet. The Emperor motions him to stand.

Anna is silent. She can hardly believe that Bastianel is back.

"You see, you want to run along and enjoy the ball. Go on, run along." Sir Constantine urges. "You look after her, Prince Joseph."

"Come, we'll all go and get ready. Come with us, Prince Bastianel!" says the Emperor as he leads them out of the infirmary to the palace.

"So, doctor..." says Sir Constantine. "Have you checked on that Roanian? I think I hit him pretty hard..."

"...yes... you did." says the doctor. He pulls the curtain next to Sir Constantine's bed back, revealing Simon Darquis having the wound in his side attended to. "Part of your lance splintered behind the ashen head and stabbed him. He'll be alright, although barring some miracle, I don't see how he'll be making it to the ball."

Sir Constantine snorts.

"He needs a few good scars anyway." he says dismissively.

Simon sighs, resignedly. "Well, it was a good joust. That's all that can be said. I have dishonored myself in the Princess's eyes, and in yours." He tried to push himself up, but tumbled back down. "I must apologise, Sir Constantine. This is my fault."

He turned to the doctor. "Sir, am I well enough to travel? I must return to Roania and report what I have done. I will most likely be discharged. It's no more than I deserve."

After a moment's thought, Sandar also selects a girl, striding over elegantly. He doesn't go for a little girl, per se. She's old enough to have a serious conversation with and to have been properly trained in the dances of court. Nonetheless, too young for it to look like he's paying attentions to anyone but the princess. He bows and offers a hand, "May I have the honor, m'lady?"

Ivon shackes his head."Your highness wait. I did not mean a real elf. I was talking about me. Well me diguised as Hugo that is. I would have evidence planted to make it look like you nephew planed on comitton mass genocide on the elfs of your nation. Making him seem worse than you."

Princess Irene pauses.

"I think I understand you now... but I think you're still misunderstanding me. My position against elves is a populist one! Racism against other humans is banned in Pantocratoria, but all that pent up hostility doesn't go away... and elves are the perfect target. Do you understand me now?" she says.

Simon sighs, resignedly. "Well, it was a good joust. That's all that can be said. I have dishonored myself in the Princess's eyes, and in yours." He tried to push himself up, but tumbled back down. "I must apologise, Sir Constantine. This is my fault."

He turned to the doctor. "Sir, am I well enough to travel? I must return to Roania and report what I have done. I will most likely be discharged. It's no more than I deserve."

"Sir, you committed no dishonourable action!" protests Sir Constantine. He gestures to the huge bruise on his chest. "You landed a good, clean blow on me! I cannot say that I did the same to you - we weren't jousting to hurt each other, after all. The shameful thing in this joust is that lady luck conspired with my sloppy aim, and a piece of my lance punctured your side!"

"You'll be well enough soon, Inquisitor." says the doctor. "I wouldn't recommend dancing at the ball tonight, though. Rest-up. You'll be back on your feet tomorrow, although you might feel a little sore. And you needn't worry, Sir Constantine isn't in his hospital because of you, he has only forty odd years of a high cholesterol diet to blame for his heart attack."

"Ease up, sir!" Sir Constantine says in dismay to the doctor.

"He should leave the jousting to young men like you, Inquisitor." concludes the doctor, before turning to leave the infirmary for a little while.

"You did well, Inquisitor." says Constantine reassuringly. "And wounds like that... they leave a scar which the ladies always find intriguing."

"The only lady I want is lost to me." Simon said morosely. "I thank you for your kind words. Both of you."

Harper notices Princess Anna across the ball room, she looks at him and quickly turns away. Harper hands his hat over to JJ.

"Keep hold of this while i dance."

"You dance?" JJ joked.

Harper gave a cold stare at JJ. Then he seemed to back down. "Go ahead" JJ said "I will be here."

Harper nodded and slowly walked over to Princess Anna, then extended his hand out and bowed.

"May i have this dance?"

Princess Anna smiles.

"Your Excellency, with pleasure." she says, taking his extended hand.

The two start dancing.

"I'm afraid I've been a poor hostess." she apologises. "If I may be so bold, Your Excellency, tell me a bit about yourself."

Her gaze extends past President Harper's head and notices Bastianel dancing with a young girl, the daughter of one of the noble courtiers. Something about his elven presence draws her attention inexplicable. She snaps out of it and looks up at Harper once more, smiling warmly.

OOC: I won't roleplay the dances with the various nameless characters which the other suitors dance with while they're not dancing with Anna.

"The only lady I want is lost to me." Simon said morosely. "I thank you for your kind words. Both of you."

Sir Constantine sighs.

"Inquisitor, I'm sure Princess Anna isn't lost to you..." he starts. "...but, if I may be honest, I suspect her... attention... is... well, it isn't my place to say. But you could draw comfort that even if you are correct, the decision will be in the hands of the Emperor."

Sir Constantine ponders that thought for a moment. I hope he makes a decision which doesn't leave Anna miserable...

"I understand. The princess needs a dynamic, thinking young man, not a man from a nation that holds to archaic ideas."

OOC: I think that now is a good time for the Emperor to draw Anna aside and question her. We're all in suspense! We wouldn't know icly, but it would be nice.

OOC: I'm planning that after the ball, so that the new comers get a chance to speak to her.

OOC: Aww... come on! My character isn't even at the ball!

Harper notices Princess Anna across the ball room, she looks at him and quickly turns away. Harper hands his hat over to JJ.

"Keep hold of this while i dance."

"You dance?" JJ joked.

Harper gave a cold stare at JJ. Then he seemed to back down. "Go ahead" JJ said "I will be here."

Harper nodded and slowly walked over to Princess Anna, then extended his hand out and bowed.

"May i have this dance?"

Princess Anna smiles.

"Your Excellency, with pleasure." she says, taking his extended hand.

The two start dancing.

"I'm afraid I've been a poor hostess." she apologises. "If I may be so bold, Your Excellency, tell me a bit about yourself."

Her gaze extends past President Harper's head and notices Bastianel dancing with a young girl, the daughter of one of the noble courtiers. Something about his elven presence draws her attention inexplicable. She snaps out of it and looks up at Harper once more, smiling warmly.

OOC: I won't roleplay the dances with the various nameless characters which the other suitors dance with while they're not dancing with Anna.

The beautiful eyes of Priness Anna captulated Harper. He never noticed how beautiful she really was.

"Thats ok, Princess i understand that you have been very busy entertaining your guests." He notices Anna glance over his shoulder, then quickly turns back and smiles. That smile could get a man to do anything, but Harper snaps out of it. "Well.... my Name Jack Harper, as you know i am the President of the Federation of Busby. I am very interested in politics and sport. Princess, whatever person the Emperor lets marry you, remember this one question. Do you really love him?" Harper decided to change the theme of the confersation. "So, i understand you are turning to elections."

"Amazing..." Theodora says, looking up at Tharn. "This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"

She looks down at her formal wear shoes.

"Do you have riding boots in my size?" she asks, disarmingly.

Tharn smiled. "I'm sure we'll be able to find some, although they might be a little loose," he replied.
At a word from his general, Barl hurried off to find the smallest pair of boots available (well, to find someone else to send to do it anyway - isn't the chain of command wonderful?)
Soon he returned, weith a pair of boots that - when strapped as tightly as possible - were a passable fit. Then, Tharn and Theodora set off across the sands towards the recumbent Firedrake.

OOC: I'm going to be away for the rest of today and most of tomorrow, so this is can be a placeholder for when they speak to Thaneth - unless Theodora wants to say anything else first, of course. Then people can get on with other stuff - for example the ball.
By the way, if the Prince who was wanting to check up on them were to arrive at the camp he'd be allowed in due to his rank, but not into the tent - standing orders are that no-one is without express permission from Tharn himself. However, the prince'd meet Tharn and Theodora coming out together with Barl - note: this means they're not alone in a mysterious tent together.
Anyway, hopefully I'll be back before the Ball gets going in ernest...

Two 'unethical journalists' board a Red Locust airline back to the Zusayan Union.

"That was a lucky escape, we could have been shot", says the first.
"Yes comrade unethical journalist" says the second.
On board a stewardess smiles and passes them an envelope from Comrade Drylock of the KGB-ZU.
"Oh great our new orders."
"So whats our new mission?"
"We are to report to the....Locust Nursing Home..."
"Wow, has it been infiltrated by terrorists?"
"It doesnt say. It says we will find out when we get there..."

Theodora gingerly approaches the Firedrake.

"I'm not going to hurt you..." she says timidly. She swallows hard and reaches a trembling hand out to touch the creature. "My name's Theodora... I've never seen anything like you before!"

***

Outside, Prince Constantine walks into the camp.

"Where is my sister?" he asks a passing soldier. The soldier gestures to the tent with the furnace.

Prince Constantine approaches the tent, but is barred access by the guards.

"Dammit, let me pass." he says, but the guards do not relent.

"THEODORA!" he shouts. "COME OUT AT ONCE!"

Princess Anna dances gracefully with Harper as the orchestra plays on.

"Why yes, we are..." she says. "...although I wish we weren't. If elections hadn't been announced, my uncle's government wouldn't have collapsed, and my aunt wouldn't be chancellor, and my family wouldn't be divided over politics. I know you must think that elections are a good thing, but I'm sure my brother only wanted them called to get my aunt ousted from parliament, and it backfired. There was nothing wrong with the old government."

She stays quiet about marrying for love.

Following up on...

The immigration officer gently injects the chip into Bastianel's arm.

"I'm sorry Your Highness," she says, recognising Bastianel's face. "But those are the rules. I didn't make them."

The Varangians start to lead Bastianel away. The immigration officer rushes after them.

"One more thing..." she says with a smile, "I loved Anna Celeblöme Aglarglîn!"

As the entourage leads Bastianel to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, they leave the immigration official standing back near the plane. Two men dressed in the black uniform of the Ministry of Cultural Development approach her. They grab her, turn her around, and handcuff her hands behind her back.

"Are you aware that listening to that elven mind-destroying love song is forbidden by the Act of Musical Cultural Purity, section seven, subsection 3A? You're under arrest." says one of the officials as they pull her by the arm to a nearby car.

"But I... I..." she protests, but is silence by a sharp slap to the mouth by the other Ministry of Cultural Development official.

"Keep your mouth shut, elf-lover!" he barks, and shoves her into the car.

The first official slams the car door shut, then the two men get in the front seats and drive off.

Genevieve Maire, the immigration official who injected the tracker chip into Prince Bastianel's arm, sits in a plain metal chair, her arms handcuffed behind the chair. She's tied in place by a rope around her midsection. Her knees are tied together too. Tears run down her bruised face, her eyeshadow running down with them in streaks. She gasps and sobs as she slumps forward, her blonde hair hanging over her face.

The two black uniformed officials of the Ministry of Cultural Development who arrested her stand nearby.

"I ask you again, what did that elf scum say to you?" asks the official standing in front of her.

She sobs, and looks up at him.

"He didn't say anything, please... he just told me to do my job... please don't..." she says between sobs. She's cut-off by a punch to the jaw from the official standing next to her, which splits her lip and almost knocks her over, chair and all.

The first official grabs her roughly by the jaw, and forces her head back up. She tries to look away from his penetrating gaze, and is rewarded with a sharp slap from the official's other hand.

"I'm asking you a very simple question. We've been gentle so far. We can get a lot less pleasant if you continue to be uncooperative." he says, calmly as Genevieve cries. The official lets go of her. He looks at her blood on his gloved hand. He pulls out his black-hankerchief and wipes it off non-chalantly.

"Now, what did he say? He said something, we know he did. Now what did he say?" asks the second official, as he clenches his fist, threatening to deliver another punch.

"Please...." Genevieve sobs. The official draws back his fist as if he's just about to hit her. "ALRIGHT!"

"Go on." says the second official, keeping his fist ready.

"He... erm... he said that... he was planning to... erm... murder Princess Anna... at the ball." she lies. She would say anything to make them stop.

The second official lowers his fist, and turns away. The first official puts his left hand on Genevieve's shoulder. With his right hand he wipes away the tears on her face.

"There, there..." he says, reassuringly, before withdrawing his right hand and punching Genevieve hard in the stomach. As she gasps for air, he continues. "We know that there's no plot against the life of Princess Anna. She's in no danger of being assassinated... not like... Cardinal Duras...."

The second official turns around, and pulls Genevieve's head up by her hair. She looks up at him, still struggling to breathe in.

"Tell us what he really said." says the second official. "You understand what we're asking, don't you?"

"Yes..." splutters Genevieve. "...I'll tell you... I'll tell you what you want to know... what he really said... I'll tell you..."

"Good." says the first official in his calm voice. "We may be able to drop the charges against you for listening to illegal music if you cooperate. You see, we can be generous."

Genevieve starts crying again.

"Thankyou..." she sobs weakly.

Ivon shackes his head."Your highness wait. I did not mean a real elf. I was talking about me. Well me diguised as Hugo that is. I would have evidence planted to make it look like you nephew planed on comitton mass genocide on the elfs of your nation. Making him seem worse than you."

Princess Irene pauses.

"I think I understand you now... but I think you're still misunderstanding me. My position against elves is a populist one! Racism against other humans is banned in Pantocratoria, but all that pent up hostility doesn't go away... and elves are the perfect target. Do you understand me now?" she says.

Yes Your highness.." Somthing beeps in one of his pockets. It is a com set. Ivon answers it. "Yes.. He did what? why that.." He turns off the com set. "Someting Has come up your highness And I must leave at once. If you will pardon me.." he puts the ears pieces back on and also the eye contacts. He bows "your highness." he mutters and leaves.

Princess Irene nods politely to Ivon. After he leaves, she leaves the room herself, and heads down to the ball.

***

As Anna and President Harper dance, a herald makes an announcement, audible over the orchestra.

"HER IMPERIAL HIGHNESS THE CHANCELLOR THE MOST PIOUS PRINCESS IRENE!" he shouts as Irene enters the hall.

The Chancellor glares at Anna dancing with Harper disapprovingly. She strides across the dance floor towards the two, and clears her throat loudly. She then puts a hand on Anna's stomach and gently pushes her apart from Harper a little bit.

"You shouldn't dance so close." she says, matter-of-factly. "It is unseemly and inappropriate for a young princess."

"Yes, aunt." Anna blushes as she speaks.

Irene walks off the dance floor to sit beside the Emperor. Anna makes sure she keeps the distance Irene set between her and President Harper as the dance continues.

Prince Sandar glances over at the entrance of Princess Irene with a polite smile and a deep nod, still dancing with the girl. His own distance from his nameless partner, is of course, exactly what is proper. He briefly glances at the lone elf in the room at Irene's entrance, having done some research on Pantocratorian politics before coming here.

Princess Irene speaks to one of the Varangian officers briefly in the background. After a short conversation, the Varangian bows. Over the next few minutes, Varangians are posted at all the exits of the hall. Irene's eyes never leave Prince Bastianel as all of this is going on.

A young page carries a sealed envelope to Princess Irene. She opens it, and reads the letter inside. A self-satisfied smirk crosses her face.

Bastianel crosses the dance floor, after thanking the young lady for the dance. His dancing was flawless, his elven grace pouring through the complicated turns and ways of the classic dances This is more easy than the elven dances, almost boring, too slow he thinks.

He stares at Princess Irene with a proud look in his face, in his eyes an unspoken challenge. Then he approaches Anna and says "I have been waiting a long time to speak to you again. Maybe I could dance with you, only if that is not going to give you any troubles, of course. I came here not just to show my love to you, but also to show that I'm not afraid of your aunt, and to defend the public image of my race. The ruler of my country gave the mission of show that to your people, along with the title of prince, so I could be a better candidate for your love at the eyes of your father"

He grabs her hand and kisses it slowly...."So, my lady, Can I have this dance?"

"Yes of course, democracy for me is good, because our people are used to it, but it shouldn't just be forced onto the people. I would expect a lot of people to be unhappy about that."

They both continued to dance until, Princess Irene came and pushed Anna further out. As she walked off Harper stared at her, until she took a seat. He released that she can't like him that much because he believes in Democracy.

"Has she always bossed you about like that?"

((OOC: Are the Varangian Guards forbidding entrance to the ball or just not letting people leave?))

Prince Sandar notes all this quietly. He thanks his nameless partner for the dance when it ends, bows, and heads over to the refreshments. He gets something to drink, sipping it reservedly as he just watches the ballroom, planning to do so through the next dance at the moment.

"Will Your Excellency excuse me?" asks Anna.

She turns to Bastianel and takes his hands in hers, and loses herself in his gaze.

"Your Highness, it would be my pleasure!" she says, happily. The orchestra starts playing Haydn's Andante, and Anna and Bastianel dance.

The self-satisfied smirk doesn't leave Irene's face as Bastianel and Anna glance over at her as the dance progresses. As the orchestra starts playing a sinister sounding bar, four policemen enter the hall. They are followed by the two officials of the Ministry of Cultural Development who "interrogated" Genevieve Maire earlier. Irene gestures to the Varangians at the entrance to allow them in. As the dance reaches its dramatic climax, the police cross the dance floor towards Anna and Bastianel.

"Your Highness, I'm going to ask you to step away from the Princess." says the first policeman, holding his badge up so that Bastianel can see it.

"What's going on?" Anna asks, alarmed, as the second policeman produces a pair of handcuffs.

"Prince Bastianel Dephil, you're under arrest for the murder of John Cardinal Duras. Please place your hands behind your back and come with us quietly." says the first policeman.

"That's absurd!" shrieks Anna.

The Emperor rises from his throne as Irene struggles to withhold a joyful giggle. He crosses the dance floor.

"What is going on here?" the Emperor demands.

"Your Majesty, Prince Bastianel is under arrest for the murder of Cardinal Duras." says one of the policeman, as he bows respectfully.

"On what evidence?" the Emperor demands.

"He confessed to an immigration official upon his entry to this country. She made a statement to that effect to these gentlemen from the Ministry of Cultural Development during an inquiry about another matter." explains the policeman.

"That's inadequate." the Emperor says.

"For an arrest, yes, Your Majesty." says the policeman patiently and politely. "But it gave us probable cause to obtain and test the DNA sample left on the immigration officer's tracking chip injector. Prince Bastianel's DNA matched DNA found on the discarded container which held the poison used to murder Cardinal Duras."

The Emperor is taken aback.

"Surely... this cannot be true..." he says, stunned. The stunned expression wipes itself clean from his face. "...very well. Your Highness, I urge you to comply with these officers. I'm sure this will all be sorted out soon."

He turns back to Irene with a dark look on his face. He walks back to his throne.

Princess Anna looks confused.

"It isn't true... is it Bastianel?" she asks quietly.

"Your Highness, please step back." says a police officer as he steps between Bastianel and Anna.

"Your Highness," says the first police officer to Bastianel. "my partner is going to put the handcuffs on you now. Please follow us, and I'll advise you of your rights. A representative from your embassy has been contacted and will meet us at the stationhouse."

((OOC: Are the Varangian Guards forbidding entrance to the ball or just not letting people leave?))

Prince Sandar notes all this quietly. He thanks his nameless partner for the dance when it ends, bows, and heads over to the refreshments. He gets something to drink, sipping it reservedly as he just watches the ballroom, planning to do so through the next dance at the moment.

OOC: They were there to stop Bastianel from leaving, for reasons which should now be evident.

Bastianel sees the guards in the exits Just as I was expecting, Why we just can't live in peace?. Bu if she want a lesson, a lesson she will have still holding the hand of Anna, he looks at his father, who is right behind the crowd. The young elf nods, and his father just look to the ground, aware of the presence of the guards.

He starts to sing the song that he wrote for Anna, the words running like a river of clear water trhough the hall, staring at the Princess with the eyes of a condemned lover. The soft elvish words were soon replaced by the clear, well pronounced words in latin. The song was a sad one, wrote about the sadness of a lover who can't express his feelings because the object of his love is of different blood.

Prince Sandar frowns thoughtfully, sipping his drink. Meanwhile, the Marquis finally arrives at the ball, moving over towards his liege and handing him a sheet of paper. The Prince frowns, folds it up, and hands it back to the Marquis, before surveying the ballroom again, saying quietly to his advisor "An Aelosian Prince was just arrested." The Marquis nods and gets a drink, frowning thoughtfully but not looking exactly shocked.

Anna gasps. She holds a hand to her mouth and tears form in her eyes, quite involuntarily.

Princess Irene looks on with displeasure as the forbidden song is sung.

She stands.

"If you're going to arrest him, do so, and gag him while you're at it!" she shouts. The Emperor reaches over to Irene and pulls her back down into her chair.

"Sister!" he says to her quietly but harshly. The tone of his voice leaves no room for disobedience.

"I'm sorry Your Majesty..." says Irene, humbled and apparently scared by the Emperor's mood.

A Pantocratorian handmaiden approaches Prince Sandar timidly.

"Your Highness, it would inappropriate for Her Highness to ask you to dance with her, but I'm sure that she'd appreciate it very much if you asked her to dance with you. She may find it comforting." she says.

Bastianel looks at his father with grim determination in his face. Then he turns to the officers and says "I would gladly obey your orders, but not today, I'm sorry. I will refuse your invitation to be a guest in one of your jails. I'm a knight, and a man of honor, so I can't allow you to put those handcuff in me. I'm innocent, and I just want a way to prove it"

He turns to the crowd and continues "I'm innocent of this charges. I heard from my father that the people of Pantocratoria care about honor. I learned that when I came here a time ago. I refuse to accept those charges because I don't have connections with any of them. My Empire helped this country to find out the causes of the death of the cardinal, and my father is a christian and a knight of Pantocratoria. I want an opportunity to defend my honor".

He shouts to the crowd "I challenge anyone here that dare to accuse me of this charges to a God's Judgement!. Let the swords speak fo their bearers. If I lose, I will turn myself to justice. If I win, it's because I was framed and wrongly accused. Is this right?, I've studied the knight's code, let me defend myself as a knight".

Harper stood there shocked and JJ next to him. They couldn't believe what was told. Harper noticed a small smirk on Princess Irene face as they put the handcuffs on. Somethng told Harper that he was going to be found guilty what ever the evidence comes.

Sandar studies the handmaiden and looks to the Marquis. The Marquis nods once so Sandar hands his drink to a servant and walks over to Princess Anna, syaing in his softest, gentlest tone. "Your Highness..."

"Your Highness, you'll have an opportunity to defend yourself in court." says the policeman. "You'll be able to challenge the evidence against you there. Please, don't make us hurt you. The last thing I want to do is to forcibly lay a hand on a prince, even one accused of murder..."

The Emperor stands.

"Prince Bastianel, you are not a Knight of the Order of the Pantocrator, so you are not entitled to claim the right to defend yourself through feat of arms. However..." he says loudly, and turns to Count Kyrosal. "Your father is. As a Knight of the Order of the Pantocrator, Count Kyrosal, you may assert the right to defend your son from this charge according to the ancient traditions of the Order."

Princess Irene seethes, but stays silent, scared by the Emperor's previous chastising.

"Count Kyrosal, you may defend your son from this charge through feat of arms. Be warned though, if you lose, your son will not have a right to a trial, and will be guilty under the law. If you seek trial by combat, that is the end of it. There is no further due process or appeal. Choose carefully." warns the Emperor.

Sandar studies the handmaiden and looks to the Marquis. The Marquis nods once so Sandar hands his drink to a servant and walks over to Princess Anna, syaing in his softest, gentlest tone. "Your Highness..."

Princess Anna wipes the tears away from her eyes, and curtsies to Prince Sandar.

"Your Highness, I don't believe we've met." she says. "Pardon me... this is just so... so..."

She struggles to compose herself.

Sandar nods. "Of course, Your Highness. That's why I came over. I could hardly ignore a lady in distress. I am Prince Sandar, by the way, of Finara."

Count Kyrosal steps forward, and Bastianel says "Father, please, no. You are too old...", but a severe look in his father eyes make him silent. The old elf says "I will defend my son. He's innocent and I'm sure about it. I'm sure because I know who extracted the venom who killed the cardinal. As a matter of fact, the poison was made in Aelosia. Maybe I suspect who is the real killer, but I will take that to the grave. I swear by my honor that my son is innocent about this matter, and I will defend that statement with words or blades. I know he loves this Princess with all his heart, and he's willing to sacrifice anything to show her how much he love her. So, I will give to him the opportunity to be happy, and to show to the people of Pantocratoria that elves are a proud and kind hearted race".

Kyrosal takes a deep breath and says "Who is going to be my contender?, may Iesus protect his soul, because I know that god is on my side now", he removes his cloak, showing the hilt of a wonderful crafted sword, sheathed in his back. It wasn't the sword of th Dephil family, but the sword of the Supreme ShadowPrince of Aelosia itself.

Harper shook his head as the father agreed to this duel. He knew he was to old and if a young man challanged him, he wouldn't stand a chance whatever sword he has. Harper couldn't help wondering why the hell not just take him to court, if he feels he is innocent. Harper walks up to Count Kyrosal.

"If you feel that he is innocent, take it to court not the duel field. You can save him if you take him to court."

"I'm no a fool, I know that if he goes to court, he will declared guilty, no matter what. We elves have too many enemies in this country. Are you questioning my abilities as a swordman?, I'm hundreds of years old, I had fought more wars that all of you. And I had forgotten more about swordplay than any human had learned. I know you have very good intentions, but I trust in my skills, just stand aside", says the old Count, with an angry voice

"Very well...." says the Emperor. "As the police are acting in my name, my champion must act in defence of their charges."

The Emperor pauses.

"....but my champion is... unwell." he says, remembering Sir Constantine's heart attack just a few hours ago.

"Then the trial by combat cannot take place..." says Irene, hastily. The Emperor turns to her with a look that sends her recoiling back into her chair.

"Count Kyrosal, you said that you may know who the real killer may be... if you allow your son to be taken by the police, that knowledge may set him free in court. I urge you, consider that path. If you still insist on trial by combat, then it will have to take place after Sir Constantine has recovered." says the Emperor. "And in the meantime... Prince Bastianel would have to be confined to police custody."

"Very well...." says the Emperor. "As the police are acting in my name, my champion must act in defence of their charges."

The Emperor pauses.

"....but my champion is... unwell." he says, remembering Sir Constantine's heart attack just a few hours ago.

"Then the trial by combat cannot take place..." says Irene, hastily. The Emperor turns to her with a look that sends her recoiling back into her chair.

"Count Kyrosal, you said that you may know who the real killer may be... if you allow your son to be taken by the police, that knowledge may set him free in court. I urge you, consider that path. If you still insist on trial by combat, then it will have to take place after Sir Constantine has recovered." says the Emperor. "And in the meantime... Prince Bastianel would have to be confined to police custody."

"Thank you your Highness you made a wise descion. We shouldn't just go jumping into fights swords waving. If you are afraid of the court being unfair we offer our courts. We know this is your matter but we are here if you need help. I suggest you put away your sword."

"Very well...." says the Emperor. "As the police are acting in my name, my champion must act in defence of their charges."

The Emperor pauses.

"....but my champion is... unwell." he says, remembering Sir Constantine's heart attack just a few hours ago.

"Then the trial by combat cannot take place..." says Irene, hastily. The Emperor turns to her with a look that sends her recoiling back into her chair.

"Count Kyrosal, you said that you may know who the real killer may be... if you allow your son to be taken by the police, that knowledge may set him free in court. I urge you, consider that path. If you still insist on trial by combat, then it will have to take place after Sir Constantine has recovered." says the Emperor. "And in the meantime... Prince Bastianel would have to be confined to police custody."

"Thank you your Highness you made a wise descion. We shouldn't just go jumping into fights swords waving. If you are afraid of the court being unfair we offer our courts. We know this is your matter but we are here if you need help. I suggest you put away your sword."

OOC: Nobody has made a decision here, the Emperor is simply trying to avert a trial by combat, which is going to result in somebody getting hurt. He is trying to encourage Count Kyrosal to change his mind, but I'm not sure Count Kyrosal will be persuaded. Anyway, I have to sleep!

"I'm not going to fight Sir Constantine, he's a man of honor, and I know that he's not going to support such a cowardly statement", says the old elf "I swore to take my knowledge about the Cardinal death to the grave, and I am a man who respect his word"

He points to Princess Irene "You should appoint the champion, Aren't you the one who signed most of the anti-elven policies?. I warn you, my son has the favor of the Supreme ShadowPrince. If something happens to him, he will be very upset. Put him in jail now, but I want you to know that I'm very dissapointed about this country. I came here because I admired your spirit and your strong sense of honor, and with the exception of your Majesty, Sir Constantine and Sir Michael Phocas, all that I had seen is betrayal, hate and lies".

He stares at Princess Irene with hatred in his eyes "You are the cause of all of this, my former country respected Pantocratoria, but now we will despise it, all for your evil deeds. I challenge you, because my son is about to be dishonored because you want it. I know you're a lady, and that you can't fight me, so please, select your paladin"

Joseph is stunned. Accusing a prince - someone who wasn't even at the scene of the crime - with murder? Race baiting policies? Challenges and duels of honor? It was like some horrible nightmare. Yet, in the midst of it, there was Anna. Looking hurt, confused and frightened. Although she was speaking with one of the new arrivals, he couldn't help himself. He made his way to her.

"Excuse me, your Highness," given his dress, Joseph figures it is safe to assume that the new arrival is a prince or other royalty, "I am sorry to intrude."

Then, Joseph turns to Anna. "Anna, are you alright? I... is there anything I can do? Anything I could say to your father? Anything at all?"

Sandar shrugs. "Not at all." He glances off a second.

((OOC: Are the Varangian Guards forbidding entrance to the ball or just not letting people leave?))

Prince Sandar notes all this quietly. He thanks his nameless partner for the dance when it ends, bows, and heads over to the refreshments. He gets something to drink, sipping it reservedly as he just watches the ballroom, planning to do so through the next dance at the moment.

OOC: They were there to stop Bastianel from leaving, for reasons which should now be evident.


Simon shoulders the guards out of the way. "Move out of my way, or lose your head. As the ranking Roanian, I have a right to be present here. Theo, what is going on? I'm meant to be resting, and you text me with an order to come here?"

The Roanian ambassador whispered the events into his ear. Simon looked confused. This is my fault. he thinks to himself. "As a man of noble birth, and a knight, I claim my right to speak."

"Joseph..." says Anna. "I don't know what is happening here... all I know is it is something awful..."

She squeezes Joseph's hand. She looks to Prince Sandar, not wanting to offend him, but Joseph is obviously the one for whose support she looks.

Princess Irene stares at Count Kyrosal in stunned silence. Finally she starts to speak.

"It would be inappropriate for me to appoint the champion." she replies. "All justice is carried out in the Emperor's name. If you seek trial by combat to defend your son, it must be against the Emperor's champion."

The Emperor looks at Irene, partly in anger and partly in sadness.

"She speaks the truth, my friend," he says with regret, looking at Count Kyrosal. "You must fight Sir Constantine if you choose a trial by combat. Let us speak of this further in the antechamber, let us allow the ball to resume. Count Kyrosal, Prince Bastianel, officers, please, let's leave the hall and come to an arrangement."

"If you would like to share your thoughts on the matter, Inquisitor," says the Emperor to Simon. "Then I suggest you meet us in the antechamber to do so."

The Emperor rises and leads the others to one of the antechambers, followed by enough Varangians to deal with any problems. Princess Irene nervously stays in the hall. The orchestra resumes playing.

***

The Emperor pulls Count Kyrosal aside when they get into the antechamber.

"Listen, if you've evidence which can prove your son's innocence in court, you'll do far more damage to Irene and her government by presenting it there than you would by defending Bastianel in a trial by combat." the Emperor whispers. "If you defeat Sir Constantine in a single combat, Irene will twist it to make it look like Bastianel got off because old Sir Constantine was bettered while he was still recovering from a heart attack. If you take this to court, and prove that these charges are bogus, you'll destroy her government's credibility."

"I try not to take sides in my empire's politics, Kyrosal, with my brother the head of one party and my sister the head of the other, so I wouldn't say this back in the hall. But I urge you to consider the full ramifications of both your options before making your decision." the Emperor says. He stops speaking as the police and Bastianel enter the antechamber as well.

Kyrosal sees the Emperor with a sad expression in his face "You Highness proves to be a man of wisdom and honesty again, but I can't fail in this matter", he pauses for a moment, then continues "I don't trust in your court. I'm sorry, your majesty, but you know that if the Pantocratoria legal system is under the control of your sister, my son is going to be declared guilty. As a matter of fact, if your legal system is trustworthy, Why then they are accusing a man that was'nt even near the Cardinal at the moment of his death?. Bastianel had never entered the Vortex Corporation territory, and he is one well known defender of the human-elven relationships. He's even one of the council of the Cardinal Duras fund, for Christ sake!. He's famous for a song praising the love between people of different races!, dedicated to your daughter!. He received baptism and is now a christian!. The only reason of those accusations is that he's an elf!, you could blame Lady Sirithil nos Fëanor for that reason, then".

He paused again, regaining his breath "If I need to fight Sir Constantine, with all the pain of my heart I will do it, I can't let my son to be dishonored. The honor of my family is the only thing that I have left. I have lost my wife, the love for my country, and everything else. My son and the love of god is the only things that keeps me in this world. And I will sacrifice anything to make him happy. Won't you do the same things for your daugthers and your son?. Put yourself in my position, You Majesty, and you will see that my words are true. If Bastianel goes to jail, nothing will erase that stain from his record. I warned him about courting your daughter, but he didn't listened to me. I knew that was going to bring just pain and anguish to him. We elves can't love humans, I should payed heed to the counsels of my friends back in Aelosia, our races can't live together".

He shakes his head in dissaproval "Bastianel could be a fool, but he's a pure soul, and he's incapable of harming a fly. He's innocent, and you know that. I can't stand just to see how a honorable and powerful man as you can keep with this charade. You know, and I'm sure about that, that all this is a plot of your sister to keep Bastianel away from your daughter"

"Joseph..." says Anna. "I don't know what is happening here... all I know is it is something awful..."

She squeezes Joseph's hand. She looks to Prince Sandar, not wanting to offend him, but Joseph is obviously the one for whose support she looks.

Princess Irene stares at Count Kyrosal in stunned silence. Finally she starts to speak.

"It would be inappropriate for me to appoint the champion." she replies. "All justice is carried out in the Emperor's name. If you seek trial by combat to defend your son, it must be against the Emperor's champion."

The Emperor looks at Irene, partly in anger and partly in sadness.

"She speaks the truth, my friend," he says with regret, looking at Count Kyrosal. "You must fight Sir Constantine if you choose a trial by combat. Let us speak of this further in the antechamber, let us allow the ball to resume. Count Kyrosal, Prince Bastianel, officers, please, let's leave the hall and come to an arrangement."

"If you would like to share your thoughts on the matter, Inquisitor," says the Emperor to Simon. "Then I suggest you meet us in the antechamber to do so."

The Emperor rises and leads the others to one of the antechambers, followed by enough Varangians to deal with any problems. Princess Irene nervously stays in the hall. The orchestra resumes playing.

***

The Emperor pulls Count Kyrosal aside when they get into the antechamber.

"Listen, if you've evidence which can prove your son's innocence in court, you'll do far more damage to Irene and her government by presenting it there than you would by defending Bastianel in a trial by combat." the Emperor whispers. "If you defeat Sir Constantine in a single combat, Irene will twist it to make it look like Bastianel got off because old Sir Constantine was bettered while he was still recovering from a heart attack. If you take this to court, and prove that these charges are bogus, you'll destroy her government's credibility."

"I try not to take sides in my empire's politics, Kyrosal, with my brother the head of one party and my sister the head of the other, so I wouldn't say this back in the hall. But I urge you to consider the full ramifications of both your options before making your decision." the Emperor says. He stops speaking as the police and Bastianel enter the antechamber as well.

Simon enters the antechamber. "Count Kryosal, Your Imperial Majesty... I have a confession. This is, I think, my fault."

Slight, understanding inclension of his head to Princess Anna. Moving back a little politely.

"Prince Sandar," Anna says as she regathers her composure. "Please, don't go, I've promised Joseph the last dance, but there are many other dances until then. Please, I'd like to get to know you."

She squeezes Joseph's hand again and then lets it go.

"Don't forget, the last dance!" she says, forcing a smile. "I'll see you later."

She walks to Sandar.

"Please, Your Highness, dance with me." she says.

The Emperor nods sadly.

"I understand Kyrosal, but the police have evidence, even if it has been planted by someone in Irene's employ... I hold our court system above reproach. If you can prove that evidence has been planted, I'm sure it would be..." the Emperor stops. "But I've tried to make this argument already. You're set on your course of action, and it is one I can understand..."

Simon Darquis enters the antechamber.

Simon enters the antechamber. "Count Kryosal, Your Imperial Majesty... I have a confession. This is, I think, my fault."

The Emperor turns to face Simon.

"What do you mean, Inquisitor?" he asks, reservedly.

Prince Sandar nods softly and offers a hand to Anna. "And I you, Your Highness." He escorts her out onto the floor and dances slowly, watching the beautiful woman. "I am sorry my arrival was so late."

"You needn't apologise, Your Highness..." Anna smiles weakly as she dances. "...as they say, better late than never! I understand my brother is attending a ball in Finara in honour of the birthday of Princess Lila, what a fine coincidence, don't you think?"

Prince Sandar nods. "It is a wonderful coincidence. Though the ball is officially simply a birthday celebration, myfather's plans are more or less an open secret at this juncture. I am sure she will be upset with me for missing her birthday." He looks at Anna intently. "Though I dare say it is more than worth it to view such beauty."

Anna blushes.

"That's very kind of you to say, Your Highness." she says, Sandar's compliment cheering her up. "You dance very well, do you dance often?"

*pops up with bazooka* "DIE!!!" *fires*

*large explosion*

*piece of shrapnel beheads Sandar*

hey cmon people im tryin to piss u off u wont even respond

You must have missed the title of this thread... the part that says Peaceful RP.

if i cared, i wouldnt have done it
DUH

Sandar shurgs elegantly. "I suppose I dance enough. Not quite as often as I would like. It is merely easy to dance well with such inspiration." Another soft smile.

if i cared, i wouldnt have done it
DUH

Oh, how fascinating for you. Since it seems you've missed the point, the "peaceful" part of the title indicates that we'll be ignoring your random bazooka attacks.

Sandar shurgs elegantly. "I suppose I dance enough. Not quite as often as I would like. It is merely easy to dance well with such inspiration." Another soft smile.

Anna takes the compliment in stride.

"So, Your Highness, tell me about yourself." she enquires.

Sandar ponders a second. "Well, Your Highness, I am the first of eight children. I was raised in court but sent into service with the Order of Light as soon as I was old enouth to wield a blade. I have been a devout Catholic all my life. Is there anything in particular you wish to here of, Your Highness?"

"Into the service?" Anna asks. "Does that mean you've... well, that... you've had to... kill someone? Oh pardon me, Your Highness, you probably don't want to talk about something like that..."