NationStates Jolt Archive

Strom gives a friendly pat on the back to Druthulhu and speaks to him in a light hearted manner, "I believe my robotic friend here was only trying to say that private conversations are sometimes desired over public ones. No one to blame but ourselves for not making sure Deoq had locked the 'cave' door, right?"

"Thank you for the encouraging words regarding the area of Murlinistan. Apparently the Council must have been in a position to react quickly and seized the moment. I must admit, the resistance is more fierce than originally anticipated and our nation is smaller in size by comparison to others in this region, but the resisting forces are without order and lack leadership. Its only a matter of time until peace is restored and the former Murlinistan purged of Wyrm taint."

Back to the SOI-Bot, Strom says, "Looks like I have another meeting to attend. I hope they have fresh coffee this time, the last batch tasted a little old."

After shooing all the vampires out of the fae-cave, muttering about the privacy of his quarters being violated, Deoq takes a sign from the 'wall,' and hangs it on the door outside. The sign reads:

"All those entering without explicit permission of High Lord Deoq shall be transported to a nightmare realm where your very psyche will turn on you and beat you savagely with a big stick. Have a nice day, and keep dreaming!"

Deoq then proceeds to take a lump of chalk from his pocket, drawing an ornate pattern on the door, and pouring pitch-black ink over it. The door shimmers grey.

Deoq dusts off his hands,

"There! That should keep them out!"

*catches up to Strom and speaks ever so softly, so quiet that only one with supernatural hearing, within such a close distance, who is trying to hear could make out what is said*

I believe that Gregor will again try to prevoke you to a frenzy, perhaps to merely discredit you or perhaps to have an excuse to attack you physically. I posess certain capabilities that I could use to aid you in preventing such provokation from succeeding. If I have your permission to come to your aid in this way, should the need arise, signify with a nod.

*quitely speaking to Druthulhu, just outside the "Fae Cave"*

"What you tell me is interesting, though I have some reservations towards the nature of your capabilities." Strom slightly tips his head forward in a subtle nod. "What will I owe you for such a favor?"

Only your thanks, should it come to that and should you allow it. Your tribe has long been known to us as the most willing to put aside ancient hatreds to work for our mutual interests... hopefully your own Elders can tell you the same about our own clan.

*starts off*

Just give me a signal if you decide that it is called for... if you are of sufficient mindfulness to recall that is... Or may I take your present nodding as assent?

[ ooc: is refering to the description of Animalism 3 usage on other supernaturals as described on p62 of CB:Gan(rev). ]

OOC: I've heard of a site that gives specific info about nationstates nations, such as exchange rates, but I don't know the site, anyone else know?

OOC: I've heard of a site that gives specific info about nationstates nations, such as exchange rates, but I don't know the site, anyone else know?
Yes, after all, I am Information Primogen.

Oh all right, here is the site:
http://nseconomy.thirdgeek.com/

(ooc: sure, and I borrowed my friend's Gangrel book and returned it two weeks ago)

"Yes, I have studied the history between my tribe and your clan. I have no desire to change the tradition of aiding each other when it is mutually beneficial. If a 'situation' presents itself as you have foretold, then I have given you my assent." Strom offers an honest smile to Druthulhu.

"By the way, it seems events have reached a stalemate in the Imryn region of late...or I'm not receiving enough information. Has the Jade Emperor responded to any diplomatic alternatives? Perhaps our Primogen of Information could make some sort of updated anouncement of the situation soon."

If the Jade Emperor and the Happy Uncle are engaged in deliberations, they have not revealed this. Currently we are engaged in airstrikes and defensive measures along our own borders as the Heavenly Army tries to advance into our northeastern region, and the augustinian forces are pressing against them on their own northeaster front.

*smiles and nods*

I will see you in the Primogens' Hall.

*walks to the door of the Fae Cave reads the notice, and knocks*

(ooc: sure, and I borrowed my friend's Gangrel book and returned it two weeks ago)

[ in case you mean that you need a refresher (one possible meaning), and for any who do, Ani 3 vs. another supernatural (esp. one with a "beast") will not cow them as it will a mortal, but can prevent them from frenzying. ]

Deoq vanishes from the Fae-Cave, appearing right next to Druthulhu.

"What business do you have with me?" Deoq asks, the conversation is then cut short by a green glow from inside his robe. Deoq removes the amulet from his robe, and presses it to his ear, seeming more excited all the time.
"Guess what! I'm Delegate for the Region!" He proclaims to anyone near him.
"Woohoo!!!" :D

The Grand Tsar emerges from the temporis portal, nearly running into Deoq. Having heard his announcement, Dirsko actually pauses for several seconds in shock. He grumbles something in the Asmadonian language under his breath and hurries down the hall towards his private quarters.

"This calls for some celebration!!!"

Deoq announces, waving his arms wildly, while huge banners appear out of thin air, hanging in the hall of Elysium, with the 'Vote Changeling' logo on them, along with a portrait of Deoq's face that seems to wink every now and then. Deoq gives a triumphant grin, strides over to the main doors, and flings them open, in walk a massive host of Changeling servants, bearing vessels of bloodwyne, fae water, and even coffee for the were-wolf :p .

Four large fountains spring out of the ground in the center of the hall, one of blood, one of fae water, one of machine oil, and one of coffee. A hord of acrobats and entertainers perch upon large platforms all over the wall, juggling, playing music and the like, while pooka jesters mingle with the others, joking and doing tricks. Even the Corax Kinain, more sober than before, joins in the festivities.

After approaching Strom, Deoq shouts above the general palaver, "You can't say we don't know how to throw a good party, eh? :D "

Messenger Bailey remarks to nobody in particular, "I don't believe in fairies."

The entire room grows silent. All the Changelings in the room stare blankly at Messenger Bailey. One or two collapse to the ground, wheezing, and reverting to mortal form. The hall's decorations begin to fade, as everyone starts to realize that they were never actually there.

Deoq himself grows pale, and his brilliantly coloured garments, eyes and hair fade to a more drab colour, and then flare back into life again. But instead of reverting to his normal form, his hair continues to flare, now aflame with magenta fire. He grows fangs in his mouth, the flicker of glamour appears again, and a familiar strength-sapping cold, now magnified by the hatred of all the present fae, fills the place.

Deoq, barely containing his anger, turns to Messenger Bailey.

"Never, ever, do that again." He says, lifting the Messenger off his feet by his collar. "You are Sherriff. You should make sure different leaders don't harm each other, in any way, shape or form. You really are a pretty crappy Sherriff, aren't you?" says Deoq, baring his newly acquired fangs.

[ ooc: you'd think that the royal retinue of a changeling nation wouldn't have changeling members who were at the verge of falling out of the dreaming and reverting to normal over what can't be more than one or two banality points. ;) ]

Strom, about ready to enjoy the party, gives a deep sigh. He leans in towards Druthulhu and says, "Maybe its not my temper you should be concerned about. Deoq seems quicker to rage than a Get of Fenris Ahroun." Strom allows himself to chuckle at his own joke, despite the situation.

Strom motions for the corax to approach him. He first politely offers her something to drink (non-alcoholic) before asking, "Deoq could use some lessons in diplomacy, don't you think?"

(OOC: They aren't dead, merely losing touch with the Dreaming slightly. It's perfectly normal. How caring of you to worry after my minions. ;) )

The Corax Kinain smiles at Strom, politely declining his offer of a drink.

"Hmm... I don't blame him though. Falling to Banality is a fate worse than death for Changelings. That one remark will stay with them for the rest of their lives. How would you like a large lump of silver strapped to you, sapping your strength... until..." At this she shudders, and changes the subject.
"He does have a bit of a temper though. He's seen a lot. He's been around longer than you think. Did you know freeholds slow the aging of Changelings? Some rare Changelings don't age at all."

(OOC: Geez, I go away on a mini-vacation for a few days, and the whole region goes to Hell! ;) )

The God-King emerges from the Temporis portal, a look of cold hatred upon his face. The first thing he sees is the new regional Delegate accosting the duly-elected Sherrif.

"Well, if this is any indication of the new order around here, I shall find an elsewhere to be for a while."

Gregor strides towards the double doors in the main hall. On his way, he reaches out and grabs one of the pooka jesters. He snaps the sniveling little creature's neck with his hands and tosses it back into the room. And with that, Gregor Asmadi leaves Elysium.

*sighs and calls the doctors, watching Grandia* and Bailey for their responses*

[*sp?]

Deoq waves his hand in the direction of the departing God-King, evoking a small plume of flame from the ground that catches his robe/suit/whatever alight. :p


After that, he turns back to Bailey, "Answer me, whelp!" He says, raising his hand and putting it level with Bailey's face.

*Prime Minister Folco Boffin comes out of the temporis tunnel just in time to see the latest changeling tricks in the elysium*

"(Screaming) Deoq! A word, please?"

*he then moves towards the changeling in a hurry*

"Master Deoq, I have been tolerant toward your various extravagances so far. But this time, I'm afraid I can't let your latest violation pass. I stated time and time again that cantrips, or whatever you want to call it, in an offensive manner are forbidden. Igninting to robes of another head of state fit clearly in that category. I am afraid you'll have to leave these halls forthwith. Pick up your stuff and be quick about it."

*with that, Folco glares at the changeling*

*smiles softly, speaking quietly*

I believe that Gregor and his robes were on the far side of the door when this occured, and I believe that he had just murdered, or attempted to murder, one of the Changeling retinue, while still within these Halls, just prior to his exit.

*steps politely around the paramedics as they carefully move the broken fae onto a body-board*

I do not believe that Mr. Bailey's statement of his beliefs qualifies as a violation of the Traditions of Elysium, but I propose that from here on, any overt statement that could reasonably be construed, whether actually intended to be or not, as intended to be harmful to changelings, should be treated with the same regard as allowing a ray of sunshine into these Halls.

*stands before the three*

Whether the Jewelled Skull is to be barred from these Halls is a matter for the Keeper or the Sherrif, or both, to decide, but if it is to be decided that they are to be, I must insist that Asmadonia be barred from these Halls as well.

*Prime Minister steals a glance towards Druthulhu*

"I didn't see the God-King's actions, unfortunately. If they indeed are as you say, he will have to explain himself before coming back to these halls. However, I don't consider strangling a hired retinue to be as severe as physically attacking a head of state. Deplorable, of course, but not severe. Furthermore, as the God-King has departed from these halls, kicking him out would be kind of redundent.

Also, one infraction on the rules does not excuse another. I'm not interested to know who started it at this point. I'm interested in avoiding an brawl."

But as you say, Gregor has departed. Thus there is no brawl to be concerned with, in addition to the fact that, as you yourself saw, he had removed himself from the protection of these Halls before he was attacked. And our Sherrif's agent, Mr. Bailey, did in fact witness Gregor's actions. Should you not consult with the Sherrif before assigning guilt?

*gazes into Folco's eyes*

I would expect you to understands as well, being the leader of a free nation, that not all leaders, nor even all kindred, regard their subordinates as unworthy of just treatment.*



* This might seem odd coming from one with the reputation of having been one of the Manus Nigrum's chief slavers, back in the day.

[ ooc: *BuMp* ]

[ ...dang... still Aimbot... ]

{AIM, pimps} :mp5: :mp5: :sniper:

*looks Druthulhu in the eyes*

"The fact that the God-King was leaving excuses in no way the forbidden use of an offensive power as Master Deoq was clearly still inside the elysium. However, in light of the facts that happened before I burst into the scene and the recent events that put these two at odds, I shall be leenient.

Master Deoq, consider yourself banned for 48 hours from these hallowed halls. The God-King shall be banned for the same period if, after consulting with the security detail, I find he broke the elysium "no attacks" rule.

Doing anything less would be construed as a lack of authority from my part. I won't allow that. I trust the different parties find my compromise wise and fair. If they don't, they will find that I can be very, very, strict in enforcing elysium rules from now on.

I trust we have an understanding?"

(ooc: Due to the time warping abilities of the Elysium, I am quite content if Deoq leaves IC the elysium and comes back the next day. I am not one to hinder the RP of a fellow poster.)

edit (ooc: whooohooo! Deadly, baby! :sniper: :sniper: )

*nods and smiles, apparently sufficiently pleased, then turns to Deoq*

I advise you to use your superhuman abilities to depart, lest a brawl ensue in the streets of East Canusk between two heads of state. I would also add that, given recent events, I will no longer presume to speak for any others who may have been offended by the drink adulteration incidents, and as I had sought to discuss with you prior to the announcement of your UN appointment, I am willing to put aside my own offence if you will do so with regards for my entry through the opened door into your non-kindred meeting room. I offer my apologies for the unintended intrusion.

*offers his hand*

...although I would still be interested in taking that drink with you.

*smiles almost warmly*

The Mercenary King seeks out the SOI-bot.

The God-King quickly sheds his burning cape, leaving it to burn in front of the doors to Elysium. He climbs into the waiting limo.

To the driver he says, "To the airport. It's time to leave this nation."

(To Deoq - :upyours: )

Deoq drops the Messenger Bailey to the floor quite ungently, and shakes Dru's hand, having calmed down sufficiently.

"Thank you Druthulhu. Your apology is accepted, and I offer mine own to you."

Turning to Folco...

"I assure you that my slightly more... threatening guise is completely natural. My appearance merely changes with my mood. If I could control it, I would. Just to set the record straight, Gregor HAD ALREADY LEFT."

With that Deoq sinks into the floor, reappearing next to Gregor in the limo. After slapping him round the face, he sinks into the seat, and is gone. :p

Walking out of one of the private rooms, in which he retreated to in order to recharge his batteries, The SOI-bot looks around at the gathered heads-of-state.

"Have I missed something?"

Gregor looks at the spot where Deoq vanished and begins to laugh. The chauffeur glances back and asks, "Something funny, sir?"

"Hm?" Gregor turns his attention to his driver, "Oh, just amused. Deoq hits like a little girl. Anyway, to the airport."

The limo drives off and arrives at the airport a short time later. The God-King exits the car and heads to his private jet. Archbishop F.B. Fax is waiting for him at the top of the steps.

"Sire, welcome back. I have just spoken with Lord Balthazar, and he assures me the Tremere have completed their wardings."

"Excellent. As soon as we return, I am calling a Conclave. Make the arrangements."

"As you wish."

The jet taxis down the runway, and is gone from East Canuck...

*has a detail of stealth fighters trail Gregor's jet until he is safely in Asmadonian airspace, sensors on alert for Skull or Heavenly Army attack fighters, or anything else that might pose a threat*

Messenger Bailey laughs quietly to himself. Grania looks on, impassively, her grey eyes atwinkle in thought.

Messenger Bailey stands and brushes himself off. Again, to nobody in particular, he remarks simply: "Well that was fun."

Messenger Bailey sighs and, continuing to adjust his suit, staples something to a pillar in Elysium. He then walks out, flanked by Grania and her fellow guards. Any who attempt to stop them find Thaumaturgical wards blocking stupid (read: all) Changeling powers, as well as the cold efficiency of Porovia-forged sword and gun.

To anyone who can read, the post says the following:

"From: The Imperator
To: Those assembled in 'Elysium'
Regarding: Kindred titles
I wish it to be known that Porovia is withdrawing from it's offices of Sheriff. The position, as well as all positions within Kindred society, are worthless in this Region from this day. The Region, once a mighty home to Kindred and Kuei-Jin alike, has become a cesspool of lesser supernatural races. I believe it to be pointless to continue calling this Region by it's current name, as well as to continue pretending like we're all playing fair.
Porovia's borders are closed. With the exception of Asmadonia, as well as a few of the Regional members who have conducted themselves in a proper manner, you may all go to Hell.

Signed, sincerely,
The Imperator"

The Grand Tsar emerges from his private chamber, once again wearing a fresh new suit. He looks slightly agitated, his face flushed a red tint and he casts an annoyed glance back at the door to his room. (Any near the door in the time Dirsko was inside would have heard his voice raised in anger, and one other).

Walking back into the main hall of Elysium, the keen eyes of the Grand Tsar look about the room. "Uh...is it just me or is it suddenly a little less crowded in here?" he muses outloud to no one in particular. He spots the notice on a pillar and walks closer to inspect it.

After the Grand Tsar reaches the notice board, Deoq rises up out of the floor next to him, looking increasingly delighted as he reads the notice.

"Seeing as the Messenger Bailey has thrown a tantrum and given up his title of Sherriff, We should promptly elect someone to take his place!" He announces to Elysium. "If anyone wishes to put themselves up for election, they must get another to second them.

And now that that fool has left, why not resume the party? Waddya say?"

Strom nods as the corax speaks to him. "I'm not sure I completely grasp everything you told me. The ways of the Changelings are not familar to me, but I am trying to learn."

Having kept a close eye on the departure of Gregor and Messenger Bailey, Strom looks back to Deoq who appears to be enjoying his party. Walking towards him, he whispers "Be careful of the Grand Tsar, he may not take kindly to the recent turn of events."

Continuing on, Strom respectfully approaches Druthulhu. "I seek your opinion on the matter at hand. It would appear to me that the kindred here apparently don't like to lose at their own games of politics, though this was hardly the reaction I anticipated. I'm curious as to what your thoughts are, if you would share."

*smiles amiably*

Some seem to value winning more than honour, and many kindred feel that they possess the right to rule by whatever means are needful. Also they seem to feel that non-kindred-ruled nations have no place here, despite that the now late or missing Emporer Mithras saw fit to extend the invitation to those of you here.

Prime Minister Folco Boffin approaches Druthulhu and Strom.

"My fellow Primogen, have you seen the latest initiative from the changeling?"

"Seeing as the Messenger Bailey has thrown a tantrum and given up his title of Sherriff, We should promptly elect someone to take his place!" He announces to Elysium. "If anyone wishes to put themselves up for election, they must get another to second them.

"While he may be right about holding elections he should know better than inventing clauses like asking for endorsements. I tell you, someone need to explain to him that he's not the leader of the region; he's just our spokesman to the UN."

He then adds

"And how are things?"

Deoq approaches Folco Boffin...
"I was merely trying to get some sort of action taken about this Sherriff thing. If we have no Sherriff, then how is order kept in Elysium? If that makes you feel insecure about your comfy little Elysium Keeper title, that's not my fault."
Shakes his head at the insecurity of these Kindred. Then turns to Dru,
"So, how 'bout that drink?" :D

The present Changelings all resume the festivities, although they do seem slightly... broken. Piping Satyrs soon restore the Glamour to the scene, however. A redcap childling, keen to impress, jumps up onto a nearby stage and starts to eat quite ridiculous things, like chairs.

*smiles and calls for a shirt ninja disguised as a waiter who brings the tray and bottle and two glasses, opening the wine, which is labelled...

Konstantin "Faekisser" Bratovichnikov
chylde of Gregori Rasputin
chylde of <unknown>
chylde of Malkav
chylde of Enoch
chylde of Caine
chylde of Adam
chylde of Y___

1896 c.e.

This is not our projected new product, but merely a veintage [(sic)] well-known for the consistent mildness of its negative effects upon those of your blood, Deoq.

*takes one glass after both are poured, and the servent offers the other to Deoq; then looks into Deoq's eyes, his own gaze showing only the power of a frank and strong willed man*

You need no longer drink if it is to restore your honour in my eyes, Deoq, as my own transgression has been released in return for my part in yours; however I, if only I alone, would consider it a show of your honour.

*smiles an apparently sincere smile*

Deoq smiles back to Dru, and takes the glass. He then looks uneasily at the glass, and shrugs.
"I've drunk stranger stuff before, and I've turned out alright. :D A toast to our friendship, and that of our nations!" Deoq then sips the bloodwyne, tasting it, he downs the rest of the glass.

"Master Deoq, I feel quite secure in my role of Keeper of Elysium." Answers Folco Boffin "However, as primogen, I find laughable the notion that a mere representative of non-kindred can impose new ways of conducting elections by himself. We have a ruling body for these kind of things and I suggest we stick to it."

With that he looks Deoq right in the eyes waiting for his answer.

"Hmm... If I recall correctly, there was a Primogen seat that came with the Delegate-ship previously occupied by Asmadonia. Maybe it was foreign affairs or something. But that would make us equals in rank. :p "

(OOC: What was the address of the Primogen thread again?)

"Ah yes, the vacant primogen seat of foreign affairs. The problem, Master Deoq, is this: As representative of non-kindred, you are forbidden to hold a primogen title. Same as the sherriff cannot hold a primogen position. So you have to give up the representative title if you want to become a primogen. As you haven't done so, the seat is vacant for now. It's all written down in the Primogen Proposition."

(OOC: http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=357556 for the primogen chamber.)

"In which case, I will pass down my title of Representative of the Council of Non-Kindred Affairs to the SOI-bot, and I will take the Primogen title."

*takes the toast and pauses to listen to the others, then speaks*

Are there not two other potential cantidates for your current position, Deoq?

*Turns to Folco*

And are we not waiting for you to announce Sheriff elections, our dear host?

"Hmm... Two actually..." Deoq raises a ring to his mouth and speaks, his voice magnified through the hall of Elysium.

"All non-Kindred to the fae-cave. All non-Kindred to the fae-cave." Then he heads there himself.

The SOI-bot, about to speak to Prime Minister Folco Boffin, hears Deoq's summons to the Fae Cave. He turns around and heads to Deoq's chamber.

"Some days it feels like I never leave that room. I do not see why we do not just move the whole Elysium in there," he mutters quietly to himself.

Just before entering the room, he notices the Mercenary King. The SOI-bot nods in greeting and says, "I have received your communication, and I believe we may be amenable to your suggestions."

He then motions to allow the Mercenary King to precede him into the room.

*FWOOM!*

A gout of flame tears through the front doors to Elysium, shattering them into hundreds of pieces of melting debris.

A figure, flaming, screaming in pain, stumbles through the doors. Its hand reaches forward as if seeking help, but too late! The charred figure collapses on the Regional Crest, that which all Delegates pass oven when they enter Elysium. It's motto, "To Meet In Peace If Not Friendship" is quickly covered with ash and burning gore.

To any who approach the flaming carcass, they recognize first the stylish fez that Messenger Bailey sports, and then his barely recognizable face, burned into goo by the flames. He is quite dead.

*communication of sorts reaches the heads of state for the various Forumites...*

"URGENT

THE ALLIED STATES OF STITES NEED YOUR HELP.

My fellow members of the world (used loosely),

I acknowledge the shortcomings of many nations, but though currently war-torn, your conglomeration of nations appear to hold themselves with high regard for yourselves and one another, except for one, but I digress.

What we request of you is friendship and acceptance, or at least trade. Those whom we have allied with before tend to fall in to self-disrepair as they become dependent upon our peoples for social and cultural sustenance. The Nations of the Vampire Forumites appear to be self-sustaining while, generally, diplomatic.

Awaiting your responses,

Fellow Citizen Darby
Allied States of Stites"



*the entrance of the true ruler of Stites, Alexzander Morse, will come soon*

OOC: two year anniversary date

*snatches up the late Mr. Bailey's covetted fez and has the body carried off*

Mr. Boffin, it seems that there are terrorist assassins loose in East Canuck.

*frowns*

Your Gonist "friends", perhaps?

Deoq darts over to Dru, quick as any vampire with Celerity, looking pleadingly at him.
"I couldn't have that hat by any chance could I? It being a kithain treasure and all..."

* probes* deeply into Deoq's very soul with his casual gaze, a look of startled amusement on his face, plumbing the apparent honesty of Deoq's demeanour, seeking out his feelings and his kharma with regards to the true fate of the chappeau that he once stole*

Deoq, my dear friend...

*determines that it was indeed the original hat that was returned, and is now in his own possession ;) *

Surely you do realize that this is also a major fetter of our dearly departed friend, Porovian Elysium Delegation Minister (title?) [/godmode]Alphonze[/godmode] Bailey, a brutally murdered man to whom you could be considered to owe a debt of vendetta? The tennents of Humanitas forbid allowing such an object to fall into hands such as your own, I am afraid.

*takes, as he speaks thusly, what looks like a metallic plate of a enveloped letter and unfolds it into an improbable cigar box shape somewhat larger than its initial form, opening it to the harrowing sounds of guardian spirits bound within and dropping the much larger fez within before closing it to a wafer thin shape and slipping it back away*

We will discuss the hat, once I have freed Mr. Bailey of his bondage to it. I will however require a detailed account of its properties as known by yourself before I will even consider talks on the matter.




* [ Kharmic Sight, Auspex 6, 9 dice pool vs. Willpower. ] ]

*Prime Minister Folco Boffin recieves a phone call*

"Dru, my good friend, I'm afraid your assumptions were incorrect. All the evidence foud so far show that Messenger Bailey was a victim of the Porovian insurgents. Now they might be Gonites, but they are not from my branch of the inquisition. I've got mine well in hand.

A massive manhunt is underway and I expect the perpretators to be arrested within 48 hours. It does show however that we might need a new sherriff. I"ll ask the primogen council to make preparations for an election soon. We might do it at the same time as the Non-Kindred election."

"Err... Fetter? Bondage? Humanitas? What the hell are you talking about?! I need that hat. Winter is upon us and that hat is our only prospect of survival!!! I need the hat! We need the hat! That hat is the only remaining link to the Dreaming we have! Direct link, that is. We can talk with the Dreaming through this. That is why we need it! I must stress that this is an ancient oathbound treasure. Bizarre as this sounds it must be in contact with the head of someone with VERY bad dandruff for at least 12 hours a day, or it will lose its powers!!!" :eek:
Deoq starts to shake uncontrollably, and has to sit down.

The SOI-bot looks around the Fae Cave, but does not see Deoq in there. He looks back into the main room of Elysium. He sees Deoq sitting by Druthulhu.

"Deoq? You summoned us to your Fae Cave. Perhaps you would care to join us for your meeting."

Then I shall keep it upon such a head... but did you not tell us that you had been able to duplicate it? ...and its powers? And what was this that you were saying about it exploding? ...and being radioactive?

"Exploding, Radioactivity that was all a load of crap, I needed the hat! I had it duplicated, but it was only a cheap chimerical copy with no powers to keep the public quiet. It's impossible to duplicate its powers or we'd have an Excalibur in every household."

Deoq turns to the SOI-bot,
"Please excuse me, I have even more pressing matters at the moment."

Unless "winter", as you call it, will come this year, this is not more pressing. And I suspect that the "winter" that you refer to is not the seasonal change.

*turns away*

We will discuss this later.

Deoq looks increasingly desperate,
"The Long Winter! The end of the Dreaming! All will be lost to mundanity! This cannot happen!!! Please! I need the hat!!! Not just me, ALL Changelings!"

*retires to his chambers*

The SOI-bot is a bit taken aback by Deoq's response.

"So be it. If that is the case, then I shall find more pressing concerns of my own."

The SOI-bot exits the Fae Cave, and heads off to another private chamber.

Dirsko Anisimov smiles sarcastically while watching Deoq and Druthulhu debate back and forth over the hat of the late Messenger Bailey. He steps forward as Druthulhu closes the door to his private chamber.

The Grand Tsar addresses Deoq with a stern voice. "So, you admit your first explanation for seizing the hat was a lie and you created a false copy and lied about that too. Yet now you expect anyone to believe that this story you've concocted is the truth? I'm not sure which is more deplorable, the obvious insult to the honor of our Primogen of Regional Defense by lying to him repeatedly...or the mockery you've made of your own title."

Dirsko crosses his arms, obviously finished with his verbal lashing.

*Strom had reflexively shifted into his Crinos form with the burst of flame at the front door, sending many of the servants and other humans in Elysium running due to Delirium. The deep black, broad and towering werewolf sniffs the air and growls. He takes long strides to the doors laying halfway across the hall from the blast, easily lifting them and carrying them back to the entryway. He props them up and shifts back into his human form*

"Could someone fix these doors? I'm sure the last thing our kindred in attendance would want are rays of natural light pouring in. And I personally don't like the idea of anyone strolling in here, considering..." Strom waves his hand towards the place where Messenger Bailey fell.

Strom notices the discussion between Deoq and Druthulhu and walks towards them. As Druthulhu enters his room, Strom stands between Deoq and Druthulhu's door. "Might I suggest you not pursue this any further for the moment? The other non-Kindred have respectfully been waiting for this meeting you called."

Mr. October enters, stepping gingerly over and through the wreckage. He is flanked by two Porovian guards, one male, one female, both of whom armed with sword and gun.

He steps carefully around the spot where brave Bailey died.

To any in attendance...

"Hello. I am Mr. October. I would like to thank you all for the kind words you've spoken in the aftermath of The Imperator's assassination. Porovia is currently destabilized, but many of you have offered help, and we greatly appreciate it.

Further, while our military is in a current state of unreadiness, the 1st Porovian Division is prepared to meet any challenges put before it. We offer them to the Primogen Council in order to enforce peace, for as The Imperator once said, 'peace must be guarded by the vigilant, and enforced by the strong'."

Deoq bows his head, accepting defeat, and actually visibly fighting back tears.
"Just... Let me know... When you've decided..."
With that he vanishes, reappearing in the fae-cave.

Prime Minister Folco Boffin moves toward Mr. October slowly with hands outstretced to show that his intentions are peaceful.

"Mr. October, on behalf of the Commonwealth of East Canuck I present you my deepest sympathies for your loss. Please know that those responsible for these tragic occurences will be found and prosecuted. As such, I am happy to tell you that we have the man rsponsible for the death of Messenger Bailey in custody. We await the Porovian Government wishes as to what to do with him.

Welcome to the Elysium. I hope your stay will be pleasant.

Thank you also for the 1st Porovian division. It is a fine batallion and will be put to good use. If you need anything, feel free to call for me."

With these words, Folco Boffin goes to his room to make calls to fix the doors.

"Do with the criminals as your own laws would death with the murderer or your leaders. Porovia trusts that you know how to deal with such. Do the same to the murderer of Messenger Bailey.

For now, I must return to Porovia. I must be present to show strong leadership in these troubles times."

Deoq emerges from the door of the fae-cave and begins to look for his fellow non-Kindred. After noticing Strom, Deoq walks towards him...
"What's going on? I thought we were meeting in the fae-cave."
He says while looking around for Bailey's hat.

*** Election ***

Due to Porovia's untimely death, The Sherriff position is vacant. We will be holding elections this week to fill that position.

Here's is how we're going to proceed:
1- Untill Wednesday 12:00 am (Eastern Standard Time) I'll receive the nominations. You can nominate anyone you want and can nominate more than one person. Self-nomination are worth 3 nominations.

2- Wednesday, I'll announce the two candidates for the Sherriff position. You can then vote for the candidate of your choice. One vote per nation.

3- Results to be announced Saturday morning.

Commonwealth of East Canuck
Election Officer

OOC: Are you sure that's correct? 1 vote per nation, self-nominations cost 3 votes? That's a bit odd.

[ ...and just to be clear, that's midnight between tuesday 2 november and wednsday 3 novermber. ]

OOC: Are you sure that's correct? 1 vote per nation, self-nominations cost 3 votes? That's a bit odd.
OOC: They don't cost 3 votes; they give 3 votes.

[ ...also, in the nomination phase it is not one vote per voter ... you can vote once each for as many cantidates as you like, and those for yourself are worth triple. ]

Strom drops his nomination for Sheriff in the ballot box as Deoq addresses him. Before replying, he turns around to face Deoq.

"My pardons, I was merely finishing up some business that could not wait. Perhaps we will have another non-kindred holding an important office before too much longer." Strom smiles and walks with Deoq back towards the Fae Cave. "By the way, will the corax be at the meeting too?"

The election of the sherriff will be between the SOI bot and The Lesser Evil.

Voting will be open untill midnight between friday and saturday.

Deoq grins slyly at Strom,
"Yes, why do you ask?"

Mr. October:

"Porovia would like to establish the fact that Porovia did not lose it's Sheriff position due to The Imperator's assassination, but rather due to former policy about dealing with non-Kindred. That policy is no longer in effect."

With a grin that can only be described as "devilish," Mr. October smiles and says:

"In fact, we in Porovia now believe that our non-Kindred Regional neighbours are a treasured part of the international community."

"Well I..uh..um.." Strom stumbles to come up with an adequate answer to Deoq's question. "I think she is crafty and intelligent, two qualities that could provide some excellent ideas for the non-kindred community." Strom smiles at his response but stops just outside the fae cave door. He whispers to Deoq before entering, "Do you think she likes me?" Strom looks a little embarrassed at his own question and looks around suspiciously for anyone listening in.

Deoq grins devilishly,
"Why don't you ask her? Remember she has Satyr blood. :D "

Dirsko strolls over to introduce himself to Mr. October.

"Greetings and welcome! For the sake of formality, I am the Grand Tsar of Dementate, Dirsko Anisimov. It is a pleasure to have you here in Elysium. I certainly hope that kindred are still treasured parts of the community as well, yes? I'm curious, what other social changes have happened in Porovia since the Imperator's untimely and tragic demise?"

Dirsko strolls over to introduce himself to Mr. October.

"Greetings and welcome! For the sake of formality, I am the Grand Tsar of Dementate, Dirsko Anisimov. It is a pleasure to have you here in Elysium. I certainly hope that kindred are still treasured parts of the community as well, yes? I'm curious, what other social changes have happened in Porovia since the Imperator's untimely and tragic demise?"

"We still believe the Kindred population to be a vital one that must be catered to, but we also are now operating under the policy that the other... beings are here for good, so we might as well begin dealing with them.

Porovia has undergone a great many changes. We've rounded up and done away with the Porovian Parliament and I solely hold the reins of power. The Parliament was inefficient and made too many foolish decisions. They're still around, of course, but in a purely spiritual fashion, and only to give me advice when I require it."

He takes a sip from a water bottle he carries.

"Also, Porovia's military is undergoing a drastic revision. More close-quarters weapons, less guns. The Region is too urbanized for large-scale warfare of the kind we used to have, so Porovia is training it's military for urban combat."

A piece of paper appears on the notice-board, seemingly phasing in, or being phased in.
It reads thus:
Due to circumstances out of our control, the representative for the non-Kindred Council is yet to be elected. We are extending the voting period until 12:01 AM Wednesday morning GMT. We apologize for any inconvenience.

Keep Dreaming,
Deoq,
High Lord of the Changeling Fief of the Jeweled Skull, and Primogen of Foreign Affairs.

Standing alone in a darkened, private room, The SOI-bot receives an urgent communication from the capitol of the Robotic Utopia. The SOI-bot immediately leaves the room, and walks through the main chamber of Elysium, which has fallen quite silent. He strides into the Fae Cave, and turns to address the assembled leaders.

"I have just been informed that I now represent you as Representative of non-Kindred Affairs. Unlike my predecessor, I intend to do something with this position. It is time to turn this region on its ear. We are strong. It is time to make our voices heard."

"Hey! I think you'll find I did do something with my post. It's thanks to me that we now control half the Primogen council!"

"And you have done so much with that."

"Well, I haven't had much chance to, have I?"

"Haven't had much chance to," The SOI-bot parrots. "Forty-seven days is not much chance? Allow me to inquire, have you bothered to vote on a single resolution in that time?

If you are not going to surpass that fop that preceded you in the position, at the very least, could you equal his record? How you do your job reflects upon us all."

"Unfortunately I don't believe there have been many resolutions, if any, to vote in."

"It is not a question of how many or how few there have been. For the record, there have been at least four, not counting the one currently at vote. It is a question of you doing the job the members of this region appointed you to. As a non-Kindred nation in a predominantly Kindred region, we must hold ourselves to a higher standard. If you are unwilling or unable to do what needs to be done, I would suggest letting Western Concordiat or The August Personage represent our region to the world."

"Sorry, but the public voted me in! No can do. Anyway... Let's focus on the job at hand..."

"Are you implying that merely because 'the public' voted you in, you cannot be held accountable for dereliction of your duty?"

"Yes, you were voted in changeling...you may also be voted out!" The Grand Tsar, who had hanging in the back quietly until now, turns and walks to a remote corner of Elysium. He removes a cell phone from his suit pocket and proceeds to make a call...

The hierophant sweeps into the room flanked by two heavily armed guards. He turns to the assembled crowd of on-lookers:

"Tell me who is in charge!" he grumbles furiously.

"Nobody is 'in charge.' This is a council. The closest person you'd be looking for would be the Keeper of Elysium, whenever he decides to show up."

Mr. October then looks happily in the Changeling's direction. "So, then - have you decided to actually do something with your hard-won title, or will you continue being a completely ineffective UN Delegate?"

The SOI-bot smiles at Mr. October's comment.

"Yes, it would be nice if our Primogen of Foreign Affairs could actually find the Primogen chambers. Since he cannot seem to bring himself to vote on resolutions, it would be the very least he could do."

*shows up*

"Ah, new Hierophant Jahred. So good to see you. I have taken the liberty to prepare chambers for you. It was the old Hierophant's chambers, but rest assured that everything that was laying around has been seized and is no longer there. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them now because I was about to return to the primogen chambers."

"I have checked recently, and there have been NO new resolutions since I have become delegate. I have just put one forth as to the creation of a new primogen for religion. I suggest we put this behind us, and proceed to more important matters." Says Deoq, with a hint of his more threatening guise, to the SOI-bot and to Mr. October.

"Normally I do not accuse others of being a liar, yet I cannot let such a bold-faced statement like that pass. Since you have become Delegate some 71 days go there have been at least seven (7) UN Resolutions put forth. You did not vote on any of them.

Perhaps you should give your Delegate status to somebody with more responsibility.

Furthermore, I suggest you stop trying to threaten me. I also do not believe in fairies, and my predecessor left a lot of cold iron lying around."

Unimpressed with Deoq's less-than-subtle attempt at a threat, His Most Dread Excellency waits for Mr. October to finish speaking before he replies, "The request by the newly arrived Hierophant for the creation of a new Primogen position is not a UN resolution. It deeply troubles me that you, Deoq, do not know the difference. You have clearly demonstrated your inability to do the job required. As Minister of non-Kindred Affairs, I call on you to step down for the good of the non-Kindred population. Your continued holding of the position does us more harm than good. Allow it to pass to The Western Concordiat, or we will be forced to take drastic action."

Mr. October listens intently to a receiver in his ear, and then clears his throat. "It appears Porovia has been elected Regional Delegate to the United Nations. We will hold on to the position for the time being, but agree the position should pass on to somebody more able. The Western Concordiat would likely be a wise successor," he nods to the SOI-Bot.

Strom approaches Mr. October and the SOI-Bot, looking to them both with a wide smile. "My friends and allies, now that I have concluded some business that was keeping me detained, I believe I can responsebly fulfill the duties of the regional UN Delegate position. I am honored by your trust in me. And thank you, Mr. October, for temporarily filling in. I will relinquish my title as Primogen of Health that I may accept my new duty."

The lupine turns to the Keeper of Elysium and says, "If you wish, an election for a new Primogen of Health can be done? Perhaps there are some volunteers for the position?" Strom gives a shrug of his shoulders. "I will leave the decision to you."

The SOI-bot nods at Strom's words. "Yes, thank you, Mr. October, you have done a fine job in your temporary position. We look forward to what The Western Concordiat will do when they assume the position of Delegate."

His Most Dread Excellency The SOI-bot looks around. He says aloud, to no one in particular, "These time dilations are getting more and more severe."

He then realizes that someone is trying to send a communication to him, and that it was that attempt that roused him. He listens for a moment before speaking again, directing his comments to all in the room, "Gentlemen, may I have your attention, please? Thank you. I have just been informed that the rulers of The Changeling Fief of The Jeweled Skull have abdictated, and the Righteous and Holy Empire of Asmadonia has quickly seized the opportunity to move in and claim the territory."

The SOI-bot watches as the Fae Cave in which he is standing slowly returns to its original state, a plain room.

"With Deoq gone, maybe the time variations will stop" thinks Folco Boffin.

"Unlikely," a voice whispers in the Prime Minister's ear from the darkness.

Strom Eberhard gazes about the former fae cave, bored with its drab decor. He regards the SOI-bot for a moment. "Though Deoq was..." Strom pauses looking for the right word, "difficult at times, his nation was perhaps the largest of the non-kindred. This is a serious setback to the non-kindred community and we should be prepared for the kindred to make the most of this situation."

"Perhaps we should find a new room to conduct future meetings in." Strom looks at the others and gestures towards the door out.

"He may have been one of the largest nations of the region, though I believe our non-Kindred colleague the Jade Emperor holds the distinction of ruling the largest, his loss is no setback to us."

The SOI-bot looks around at the drab room, which is much more to his liking.

"He did us no favors with his conduct as Delegate. It is my opinion that we are stronger now without him. Besides, the Kindred of the region have fallen to apathy, I doubt they could muster up the energy to try any thing."

A commotion can be heard just outside the doors of Elysium. Suddenly, the doors burst open, and a richly garbed man walks in. Following behind him appear to be dozen young children in white robes, and entering after them is a marching band.

The well-dressed man walks to the center of the room and withdraws a parchment from a pouch at his side. The children line up along one wall, while the marching band takes its place at the back of the room.

The man clears his throat and says, "I have come here, representing the God-King of the Righteous and Holy Empire of Asmadonia. He would have come himself, but our nation has recently increased our security level in response to threats made by another head-of-state.

His Holiness wishes to convey his admiration of one of you gathered here today."

The band launches into a rousing song for several minutes.

The herald waits for the last notes to fade before continuing. "Prime Minister Folco Boffin of East Canuck, the God-King wishes it to be known that he finds you to be a swell fellow and a worthy adversary. You are a true Ventrue, a credit to your clan. You have a wonderful sense of humor, and an excellent taste in leisure time activities. So, this day, the God-King bestows upon you the Golden Cross of Asmahar, our nation's highest civilian honor."

The children begin to sing the Asmadonian national anthem, followed by the East Canuck national anthem. When they have finished, the entire Asmadonian delegation files out the doors, leaving Elysium and returning from whence they came.

The Grand Tsar sulks by himself in the corner of the grand hall of Elysium. "Why does Folco get the Golden Cross of Asmahar and not me!" he can be heard muttering. "After all, I'm the one whose nation published the translations of the Asmadonian language! And for improving communication throughout the whole region, not to mention the economic stimuli, what do I get?"

Dirsko crosses his arms and pouts as the procession finally departs.

"Nothing," a voice whispers in the Grand Tsar's ear from the darkness. "This is a grave insult. You should demonstrate your disapproval to them. Violently if at all possible."

Dirsko mulls over the advice from the strange voice in the darkness. "Yes..." he mutters quietly in reply. "Either my dear ally Gregor has turned against me, which I find unlikely.....or he has been manipluated into unfairly handing out the most prestigious of Asmadonian awards. A foul insult to both me and his own nation!"

Waves of emotion literally seem to ripple out from the Grand Tsar, spreading across the halls of Elysium....

In a darkened room, Folco Boffin looks at a monitor showing Dirsko.

"Excellent, Dementate and Asmadonia are less and less helping each other. All I had to do is win a bet. My masterplan is falling into place. Now all I need is to decide what to do with my newfound political clout."

Hearing the whispered words of Dirsko, and feeling the emotions emanating from him, the Darkness is most pleased.

The mortal attendents standing closest to the Grand Tsar are the first to be effected. Some begin to work harder at their duties, filled with a swelling pride in their work and an intensifying desire to please their immortal masters. Others start bickering with each other, petty words growing more and more spiteful. A few mortals drop what they are doing all together, hurling insults at no one in particular and griping about how much they hate their job. The effect spreads and worsens as even the patrolling guards and shirt ninjas begin to act on their emotions.

Dirsko, too focused on his own thoughts, seems not to notice the growing chaos. "Someone must be behind this..." he can be heard muttering over and over, his voice low with anger.

His Most Dread Excellency watches the sudden emotional outbreaks amongst the various mortals in the room with detached amusement. Within seconds, his calculations based on all available sensor data lead him to determine the epicenter of this unusual occurence to be the Grand Tsar of Dementate.

The SOI-bot calmly strides over to Dirsko's side and rests a hand lightly on his shoulder.

"Grand Tsar, perhaps it would be best to settle yourself. I am not sure our host would appreciate the commotion you seem to be causing. Though I do admit, it is nice to finally see something happening in these halls after so long."

Strom steps out of the former Fae cave to see all the commotion for himself. Taking a minute to observe the situation, he spots the SOI-bot standing next to the Grand Tsar. He walks in that direction, taking care to duck and weave through the mortals engaged in various, odd activities.

The Grand Tsar appears oblivious to the lupine's approach and obviously quite upset over something. Strom whispers into what appears to be the SOI-bot's ear (taking his best guess what that might be), "Have I missed something? What's the meaning behind all this?" Then in an even quieter tone he asks, "And is this something we can exploit to our advantage?"

His Most Dread Excellency grabs Strom by the elbow and maneuvers him into a quiet corner.

"The situation is this: The Asmadonian fop-king sent a delegation here to present our host some sort of trinket. Apparently gold-plated nickel in the shape of a cross is some sort of honor in his nation. The Grand Tsar feels somewhat slighted, I gather. He has been sitting there muttering to himself for quite some time. It seems that he has the ability to control the emotions of lesser beings around him, though I am fairly certain he does not intend to do so at this time. His already questionable mental state is becoming even less stable.

As to your third query, we could bring the attention of our host to this occurence, if he is not already aware. This is clearly a breach of Elysium rules, intentionally or not. Discrediting Dirsko in the eyes of his colleagues could certainly aid our side in the region. I shall seek out our host to advise him of this situation. I would suggest keeping an eye on the Grand Tsar."

The SOI-bot walks off in search of Prime Minister Folco Boffin.

Once the robot has left, a voice begins to whisper in Strom Eberhard's ear from the darkness.

"Can't you feel the Wyrm-taint just oozing off of Dirsko? How can you stand there and not be sickened by it? Take the opportunity and finish off the Wyrm-creature. Just look at him!"

The shadows cast by the lighting in the room shift across the Grand Tsar's face, giving his expression a menacing look.

"No one is watching you, Garou. Strike now. Destroy the leech, and weaken your enemies in the region at the same time. If anyone questions you, you can claim to have been affected by the Grand Tsar's evil sorcery. You may not have this chance again. Act now!"

Strom stands puzzled, not recognizing this strange voice he hears in his head. His eyes shift to the left and right but he can not see where the voice is coming from. His eyes then stare ahead and lock on the Grand Tsar. He realizes the voice was speaking true!

He takes a step forward, sniffing the air as he shifts into glabro form and smells the corruption wafting off the wyrm creature. Sickened by it, Strom takes another step forward and summons his rage to complete the transformation into his full crinos form. His muscular, black fur covered body stands towering over Dirsko and Strom seizes the moment! His right arm draws out wide to his side. With a sudden flash of movement, Strom rakes his clawed hand hard across the Grand Tsar's torso!! He raises his left arm, ready to bring it down to follow up his first swipe...

Just then, the Ninjas who are on guard duty spring into action and unleash a barrage of silver ninja star on the Garou.

*meanwhile, in a closed room*
Folco Boffin stands up quickly, screaming "Holy shit". I've got to get in there.
And runs through the door.

Dirsko cries out in pain and snaps back to rational thought the moment the werewolf's claws tear across his body. At the same moment, the rest of Elysium seems to revert back to normal. The Grand Tsar steps back from the lupine to avoid the next strike, clutching at his bleeding wound.

In that moment, the shirt ninjas act and Dirsko uses the opportunity to blend into the shadows and disappear from view.

Strom growls as the silver ninja stars hit him. He turns his attention to the shirt ninjas and in his crinos form can only manage to grumble a low, throaty "dumb ninjas". He looks back over his shoulder to see the Grand Tsar mysteriously vanished, only some blood on the floor.

He pulls the stars that hit him from his massive frame and tosses them far to the side. Grumbling in pain, he slowly shifts back into his human form. Bleeding from several puncture wounds, he still manages to glare at the shirt ninjas. "Fools! Where were you when all this chaos was happening?"

On his way to find Prime Minister Folco Boffin, The SOI-bot hears a commotion behind him. He turns and returns to the main room. Looking about the room, he witnesses Strom revert to his human form and blood all about the room.

"Great Maker! What happened here?"

As Dirsko retreats into the cloaking shadows, they wrap even more tightly around him. And a voice whispers in his ear, "You're in my world now."

The shadows beyond his control, Dirsko still whispers to keep his presence hidden. "I have yet to decide if I owe you or not. Are you here to help? What is it you want?" he quietly asks. Still weak from his wound, Dirsko manages to find the strength to intently focus his supernatural perception on finding who has been speaking to him.

Strom grunts as a trained servant finishes wrapping some gauze around one of his more severe injuries. He looks over at the SOI-bot and flashes a half grimmace, half smile to his non-kindred ally.

"You missed all the excitement I'm afraid. Let's just say that the Grand Tsar's effects have been broken and his whereabouts are unknown to me. Speaking of unknown whereabouts...did you find Folco?"

Having finished applying bandages, the servant and a couple others begin cleaning up the floors. Strom glances at some of the kindred and motions that they work faster.

Dirsko hears a quiet, malevolent chuckling, which seems to come from a great distance. His heightened perceptions are just able to detect movement several yards(meters) away. The shadows continue to wrap themselves around his body, and he can feel himself being pulled deeper into the darkness.

Again, as if from a great distance, a whisper can be heard, "My intentions will be made clear in time. Now, you are going to do something for me."

The Grand Tsar finds himself expelled from the shadows. He is crouching in the middle of a street, a large gateway before him. Two rather surprised guards stand on either side of it.

"Judade Asmahar guihun! Who the hell are you?" one of the guards shouts as he draws his sword. The other guard recovers from his shock and also readies his weapon.

The Grand Tsar holds out his bloody hands in a gesture of peace and to demonstrate he is not armed. "Greetings. My name is Dirsko Anisimov. Apparently I am here on business, though I'm not sure who it is I need to meet with." He takes a moment to examine the gateway and what lays beyond it.

His Most Dread Excellency stares at Strom in shock. "I said 'keep an eye on the Grand Tsar,' not 'butcher the room!'"

The first Royal Guard arches an eyebrow at the stranger's reply.

"Dirsko Anisimov? Isn't that the name of the leader of Dementate?"

He turns to his companion, "Call this in."

The second guard retreats to a small alcove next to the gate. A few moments later, the gate opens and half a dozen guards emerge.

"Grand Tsar, please follow us."

The Grand Tsar is surrounded by guards, and led through the gate into the Grand Palace in Whitefall, the capital of Asmadonia. Just beyond the gate is a large courtyard, and beyond that is the Palace complex, and the Grand Tsar is escorted into the main building. After being lead through several long corridors, he finds himself in front of two large, ornate doors. The doors quietly swing open to reveal the palace's throne room. At the other side of the room, God-King Gregor Asmadi is seated upon his throne.

"Grand Tsar, it is a pleasant surprise to see you. What business do you have here?"

(OOC: Damn, you're away two days and see what happens)

The Prime Minister Folco Boffin storms into the main room surrounded by hanger-ons, shirt ninjas and other useless retinue. Upon looking at the mess, he exclaims:

"Okay, where is Mr. Anisimov?"

He then turns to his left "Get this place cleaned, change the guard of the shirt ninjas, send the wounded to the infirmary" and he screams "And someone contact my Mage friend, his wards are far from foolproof."

"Oh and tend to the wolf's wound"

With that, Folco goes near the SOI-Bot. "Do you know what happened?"

The SOI-bot turns to the Prime Minister. "I have no idea. I left to find you to advise you of Anisimov's erratic behavior. I heard a commotion and returned only a few moments later to find the Grand Tsar missing, and Mister Eberhard at the center of this abbatoir. I have been scanning with every thing I have, and I cannot detect Anisimov in this building. Not even his remains."

"Thank you, SOI-Bot. Mr. Eberhard, would you care to shed light on what happened?"

"The wolf will lie to you," a whisper from the darkness says from just behind the Prime Minister's shoulder. "Trust him not. Nor the robot. It's the one behind all of this. Convenient that it left just before the real trouble began, yes?"

Strom mutters some thanks to the medics that make sure his bandages are secure and treated properly. Despite the stinging pain, he stands to his full height before the Prime Minister and offers a polite nod as he is addressed.

"Certainly. The Grand Tsar was apparently upset by the fact you were awarded an Asmadonian medal of some kind. Perhaps he felt it an insult or was simply jealous? Either way, he began acting in a most unusual manner and shortly after that so did the rest of the humans here. It didn't take long for chaos to break out. I approached the Grand Tsar to speak with him and it seems I was caught off guard by his powers. Instinct must have took over at that point, and..well..." Strom gestures at the bloody floor that is in the process of being cleaned.

"As to where the Grand Tsar disappeared to, I do not know. He was there one moment and gone in the next. But he was quite alive...err...undead, when last I saw him."

"Thank You, Mr. Eberhard."

Folco then turns to the shirt ninjas.

"There's an obfuscated kindred on the premisces. Find him. Don't trust your eyes." The shirt ninjas then deploy and start searching, touching everything and swingind madly in empty spaces.

Seiing this, Folco lets out a sigh. "Where is competent help when you need it?"

Dirsko bows for the sake of a formal introduction before the God King. Unfortunately, the gesture causes his wounds to bleed again through his stained and torn suit.

"I apologize for my appearance, but I didn't have time to change before my arrival. I would greatly appreciate a change of clothes and perhaps something to drink first before we discuss some business. As a most gracious host, I'm sure this is will not be any trouble for you."

The Grand Tsar also gazes at the guard escorts, then back to Gregor in an attempt to indicate he would prefer to meet in private.

As Folco commands his ninjas to search Elysium, Strom turns to the SOI-bot and whispers to him, "Someone or something seems to be trying to manipulate us. Did an unknown kindred sneak into Elysium undetected or is this the plot of someone already in attendance? Now that I think of it, where have Druthulhu and Mr. October gone?"

Strom puts a hand to his chin, contemplating his own statement.

The God-King reclines in his throne and regards his visitor for a moment.

"Of course, my friend, that will be no trouble at all."

Gregor claps his hands twice, and a servant runs to his side from a doorway off to his left.

"Please provide our guest with some fresh clothing, and make sure the changing room has suitable refreshments waiting." The servants scurries off to take care of the God-King's commands.

"Dirsko, the guards shall escort you to the changing room, where suitable new attire will be provided. You will also find several vessels hopefully to your liking to help slake your thirst. Once you have refreshed yourself, we will speak further. Do not let the presence of the guards unnerve you, but they are there for your protection as much as anyone else's. We are still on heightened alert after the Jade Emperor's recent threats."

The guards escort the Grand Tsar from the throne room, down several long corridors, and finally to a large room. Various styles of clothing fill a large, open closet along one wall, while men and women of various ages sit on a bench along the opposite wall. The guards wait outside of the room, leaving the Grand Tsar to dress and feed in private.

Meanwhile, back in the throne room...

Archbishop F.B. Fax enters from a concealed door in the wall behind the throne. He walks up to the God-King and asks, "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Is it him?" the Archbishop asks.

"Yes," Gregor responds. "It is the Grand Tsar. Wounded and confused, but definitely him."

"Most perplexing," the Archbishop says. "He vanishes from Elysium and suddenly appears right outside of the main gate here. Most unusual for one of his lineage."

"Maybe he's just a kuangrede suide nanwu."

"That would be even more unusual," the Archbishop responds.

"Well, we'll soon find out. Have you heard from our agent in Elysium recently?"

"Yes, he just sent another report. The Prime Minister has returned to the main room and is overseeing clean up. It appears the jingshenbing lang is going to get away with his outburst."

"The Prime Minister is getting rather lax these days," Gregor opines. "Head back to your chamber, and continue to monitor the situation there. I'll await our guest's return and try to get some answers. Good night, old friend."

The Archbishop leaves the room through the same door from which he entered. Gregor pulls out a dog-eared copy of The Count of Monte Cristo from a small, concealed compartment on the side of his throne, and reads quietly until his visitor is ready to return.

His Most Dread Excellency whispers back to Strom, "I have not detected any new entrants to Elysium in some time. Many attendees have quietly left, but no one new has entered. As far as I can tell, you, Folco, and I are the only leaders remaining here. This is most disturbing."

In his private dressing room...

Dirsko flips through the selection of clothes in his closet, finally deciding upon a nice black suit that is a close replica of the style worn at the turn of the 20th century. He takes it from the closet and gently lays it down, then begins to undress until he notices the various men and women along the other wall staring at him.

"Gah! All of you, turn around!" he shouts. They comply without hesitation. Dirsko slips out of his shredded clothes, then proceeds to tend to his wounds. Once cleaned up, he puts on his fresh suit and casually begins to drink from the provided vessels until full.

Before leaving the room to speak with the guard escorts, Dirsko casts a wary glance at the shadows in the corner of the room. Sensing nothing, he opens the door and steps back into the palace hallway.

Once Dirsko emerges from the dressing room, his escorts guide him back to the throne room. As they enter, the God-King looks up from his book, and reluctantly puts it back into the side compartment on his throne.

"Back so soon?" Gregor asks. "I hope you are feeling refreshed. Now, shall we discuss why you are here?"

Dirsko approaches the God-King to better hear one another, but still keeps a polite distance.

"I thank you for your hospitality, my good friend. I am not feeling well by any means, but I certainly feel better now. My visit today is a bit unexpected, but certainly you have heard by now the events that transpired in Elysium. The award you bestowed upon Folco Boffin is certainly a great honor, but one I feel he may no longer be worthy of. He has failed to keep Elysium safe. I am walking evidence of the brutal atrocities he allows to go unpunished. He grants the hated non-kindred a place in Elysium but ones ,such as us, who rightfully belong there no longer feel welcome!"

The volume of the Grand Tsar's voice, at first calm and polite, raises in volume to a more feverent pitch. Dirsko looks at Gregor and tries to gauge his reaction while eagerly waiting for his response.

A bemused expression crosses the God-King's face.

"Our awarding of the Golden Cross of Asmahar to Folco Boffin has nothing to do with his handling of affairs in Elysium. And it is an honor that even if I wished to retract, I could not. But certainly, you did not bring yourself all the way here in such a mysterious way merely to discuss our policy of bestowing honorifics, did you?"

"No, of course not", Dirsko replies.

The Grand Tsar pauses briefly, carefully considering his next words. "Regardless of my criticism towards Folco Boffin and how he handles Elysium, it is those damn non-kindred who have made mockeries out of all of us. My greivance with them should be obvious as they have grown so arrogant to openly and physically attack within our neutral halls. Folco, despite his position, is either powerless or afraid to take action thus his authority is no more than a pathetic facade. I am certain they have manipulated him into this cowed and docile stance!"

Dirsko Anisimov paces back and forth as he speaks, but then suddenly stops and stares intently into the face of the Gregor Asmadi. "And you. Was it not you who vowed vengeance on that wretched mongrel? Do you think him and his robotic ally *fear* you? Have you given them any reason to? Have I or anyone else for that matter?" Dirsko shakes his head. "This is not how it should be," he says in a low voice.

The God-King rises from his throne, his icy blue eyes shifting to glowing red. He walks towards Dirsko.

"I care not what that dog and his allies think of me. If they underestimate me, that shall be their downfall. As it was for that pathetic little elf," Gregor says as he gestures towards a window along the far wall of the chamber. Beyond the window, the decomposing head of Deoq, former ruler of the Changeling Fief of The Jeweled Skull, is set upon a pike.

"What goes on in Elysium is no concern of mine, nor has it been for some time. However, the continued struggles with our non-Kindred neighbors does concern me greatly. As they have ascended in power, our region has withered and grows closer and closer to death. We are less than half of what we once were. You say this is not how it should be. I am not so sure any more. Perhaps the mighty Vampire Forumites region should be allowed to die, for do we not deserve as much for allowing this to happen? I gather that you feel that our region is worth fighting for. Very well. Make your case. Why should Asmadonia once again embark on a course that will take us onto the regional stage once more? What plans do you have to reverse this course of entropy we find ourselves upon? Do any of the others feel as you do?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Strom walks over to Folco. "Excuse me, have you heard any news on the whereabouts of the Grand Tsar? My...contacts...are limited in lands under kindred control but I am almost certain he did not return to his own nation. Could he possibly still be somewhere around here in your nation?"

Strom watches the shirt ninjas continue their searching with mild amusement before commenting, "I was also not aware the Grand Tsar had such a power, unless someone else is aiding him."

"I don't know where he is. I've got agents looking for him, but I fear that if he doesn't want to be found, there's not much we can do." Answers Folco when, all of a sudden, his phone rings.

"If you'll excuse me..."

Folco answers the phone.
"Yes?... He did?... Where?... Find out as much as you can... Yes, keep me informed." Then hangs up the phone, a look of deep thinking in his eyes.

(OOC: I found out where Dirsko is.)

The doors of Elysium are flung open, and a familiar-looking fae swaggers in. Deoq has a few noticeable differences, namely the pallid colour of his skin, pit-black eyes and hair, and dismally coloured robes, along with the slight elongation of his canines. Otherwise, he looks his usual pompous self.

"I'm back. Miss me?"

He takes a seat, then notices the decomposing head that looks remarkably like him.

"Hmm... I knew those doubles would come in handy..."

He takes a seat, then notices the decomposing head that looks remarkably like him.

"Hmm... I knew those doubles would come in handy..."

OOC: How exactly does he do this? Deoq is in Elysium in East Canuck. The head in question is in a courtyard in the Royal Palace in Whitefall, Asmadonia.

At least try to pay attention.

OOC: How exactly does he do this? Deoq is in Elysium in East Canuck. The head in question is in a courtyard in the Royal Palace in Whitefall, Asmadonia.

At least try to pay attention.

OOC: Yeah, I've been paying attention. Are you familiar with a Legerdemain cantrip called Phantom Shadows? I didn't think so. It creates an exact duplicate of a thing/person/whatever of the caster's choice that can do anything the object/person could (except cast cantrips, although it can APPEAR to do so). Any powerful Changeling with access to it would undoubtedly create copies of himself with it, with which to confuse his enemies. In fact, many powerful/paranoid Changelings employ an advisor specifically for the purpose of doing this, and don't even appear in public, instead acting through their copies. However, these copies are prone to disintegration due to banality, although one invested with enough Glamour can last for months.

I hope that helped. ;)

"Great!" booms Folco Boffin "Just what I needed! Even more weirdness."

He then rolls his eyes and wanders off, using his phone. You can hear

"... I don't care how much it costs, bring me two mages able to cast dampening fields!... ... He did what?... ... I'm going to kill the little upstart this time, for good..." then the voices trails off, the words being too hard to decipher, even when he screams.

Dirsko stands resolute and determined, though he reigns in his emotions for the time being. "I understand you could care less what the lupine thinks or of the activities in Elysium, but consider the consequences of not pursuing retribution. And with the dog finally showing that he does have some bite to his bark, now may be an excellent opportunity for you. Perhaps you have a greater plan, but this is a moment that a bold leader can use to his advantage."

"As for the region itself, I believe it will not die. Much like the flow of a river, it may be lethargic and slow at times, but in an instant it can become a raging torrent. Should we allow ourselves to drown in the calm waters? No! I also believe that our two great nations can stand against these non-kindred upstarts. Already I believe significant changes are occuring in the region. Asmadonia would be best served if her glorious leader was present in the halls of Elysium where...."

Dirsko's voice trails off as he catches a glance out one of the grand windows at the other end of the chamber. Something in the corner of his eye alerts him, and he exlclaims, "By Caine!! Deoq's head has vanished! Not just gone, I saw it literally vanish!"

Strom lets out a great laugh and trots over to Deoq.
"Well met indeed. I thought we had seen the last of you when the Jewelled Skull was overrun by those kindred forces and Asmadonia claimed to have executed you. A double you say? I must learn more about these changeling powers you possess. Shall I get you up to speed on recent events?"

The Garou abruptly notices the differences in Deoq's appearance. "You seem..different somehow. Interesting. The SOI-Bot is still here as well as myself and Folco Boffin obviously, though several of the kindred leaders seem to be missing."

[OOC: Deoq, you still don't get it, and I've grown tired of trying to explain.]

Gregor turns to look out the window following Dirsko's outburst.

"Ni ta ma de tianxia suoyou de ren dou gai si!"

Just then, the door in the back of the room flies open and Archbishop Fax hurries in.

"Sire! News from Elysium!"

"I have a feeling I know the nature of this news, but let's have it."

"Deoq has returned. He leads a new nation just arrived in the region."

The God-King's eyes shift once again, this time from glowing red to white. His hands sprout dark fur, and his fingers elongate into talons. Blood drips from his palms. After a few moments, Gregor is able to regain his composure, and his eyes and hands revert to normal.

"I take it, old friend, that our contact inside the hall cannot relieve us of this blight."

"No, not as of yet. But he is equipped for the job, should the opportunity arise."

"Good, advise him to do just that. Dirsko, we have a problem. Let us discuss this further, and away from prying eyes."

Gregor guides Dirsko out a different door than any he has passed through previously. Down another corridor, the two leaders come to a room with a large glyph carved into the door. Gregor opens the door and enters the room beyond. He closes and locks the door behind Dirsko.

"There. This should do, I've had the empire's Tremere ward this room against eavesdropping, as well as changelings. We can speak more freely here."

(OOC: I don't quite see what your problem is, if you would care to explain?)

"That would be most appreciated, Strom, and I thank you for it in advance. In the meantime, I suggest you look behind you."

Two identical copies of Strom now stand behind him, having expanded from what appeared to be two small pellets of clay on the floor.

Deoq grins, and keeps talking,

"Nice, aren't they? Now, you said I seem different, I have undergone some... changes, while I've been gone, but in order to understand you would need a complex knowledge of the lore of the fae, and I do hope you haven't been spying on me enough to gain such a knowledge."

Says Deoq, with a kidding grin, nicely showing off his teeth. These aren't anywhere near the size of a vampire's fangs, by the way, don't get me wrong. They're just slightly elongated.

(OOC for Deoq: He was only pointing out that you are in East Canuck and saying you could see your double's head decomposing, but that head is in the palace courtyard of Asmadonia. The whole use of fae doubles wasn't really the issue, just your mix up of locations. No big deal though.)

"Excellent. Though I hope this Tremere is not from the same chantry as the one Folco Boffin has employed to protect Elysium." Dirsko shakes his head in pity.

"This turn of events is alarming, but my words spoken earlier still have merit. What say you, God-King? Will you return to Elysium? I'd like to know your thoughts on the matter."

As the two images of Strom appears, a contingent of five shirt ninjas leaps the ceiling and starts pumelling Deoq. They tie him in a rope and drags him in a long corridor. At the end of the corridor, they open a massive cold-iron door and throw Deoq inside. Then, five shirt ninjas stands guard outside the door.

Inside, Deoq can see the Prime Minister Folco Boffin drinking some blood.

"Master Deoq, it seems we need to have a little chat. You see, you haven't been here five minutes and already you are breaking the 'no powers' rule. I'm afraid you will have to hold your temper in check if you want to be welcome in these halls again. So, for now, you will sit here while I teach you the rules until you understand them perfectly."

"Rule 1: No violence. You don't attack another guest. Poison is a form of attack so it is strictly out of the question. I don't care if the other guy started it, you will not answer in kind."

"Rule 2: No powers. I can't state this one enough. No bat-cave, no duplicates, no leprechaun gold, no hat replica, no nothing."

stay tuned to see how Deoq will respond to his dire predicament...

Strom had just opened his mouth to speak when the shirt ninjas pounce on Deoq. He watches, somewhat puzzled, as they drag Deoq away.

Strom turns to one of his doubles, "So...how's it going?"

"Just fine. And you?"

"Not too bad, still smarting over those ninja stars though. And you?" Strom asks the other double (or would it be triple?)

"I'm hungry."

"Yeah, me too....uh...so how do I shut this fae power off? I hope Deoq comes back soon..."

(OOC: Ah. Sorry, bout that then...)

Inside the room, Deoq staggers away from the cold iron, shivering, with his fae seeming beginning to fade away in place of his mortal one, as he backs against the opposite wall, this is remedied slightly.

"Wh-What about the God-King of Asmadonia? Did you see what he did a while ago? With the claws and stuff... Errm, anyway, It's also hardly fair to contain me using cold iron. How would you like it if I did something like this?"

With his look of nervous panic turning to one of malice, Deoq draws an ornate crimson card from his robe, and throws it onto the floor near where Folco Boffin is sitting, and then utters some outlandish-sounding words. But nothing happens.

"Err... Bugger, well I've made my point, I'll be going now, if that's ok with you..."

"see that you don't start more trouble and you're free to go. As for the God-king, do you see him roaming these halls?" With these words, Folco raises one of his eyebrows to drive home his point.

Then, as if by coincidence, the big door opens, letting Deoq move freely once again.

"And remember that I have this nice little room if you don't behave."

Gulping nervously, Deoq eyes up the door.

"Well, it was a while ago, some other time... I err... I'll just go the back way if you don't mind."

Deoq sinks into the floor, and reappears next to Strom.

"Well, I'm glad that's over... Now, where were we?"

The great doors of Elysium gently open and a tall, lean man walks in. He appears to be in his early to mid 40's and of Middle Eastern descent. His hair is short and a dark black with several strands of gray showing. His dark green eyes highlight his face, standing out against his deeply tanned skin and well kept beard and mustache. His clothes look well worn from travel and perhaps at one time were quite striking. He takes a moment to stomp his boots at the door, causing layers of dust to take to the air. He then proceeds to pat the rest of the dirt from the road off as best he can before casually closing the doors behind him.

"Aaaah, Elysium at last!" he sighs in a hoarse and heavily accented voice.

Gregor smiles at Dirsko, "No need to worry, these Tremere are native to Asmadonia and are very good at what they do. Besides, I have other tricks up my sleeve if the wards fail.

As to your question, I do not plan to return to Elysium. I wore out my welcome. And now that it has become an even bigger festering hive of non-Kindred yinjing nao, I'm even less inclined to return. If you'd like to go back though, I can arrange it. Or you could go back the same way you came."

"Ah, Deoq," The SOI-bot says as he walks up to the recently arrived changeling, "you have returned. I do hope that your actions this time around will not reflect so poorly on the non-Kindred population. I would hate to have to put you down for our own good."

His Most Dread Excellency walks off without allowing Deoq the time to answer. He steps over to the newest arrival. "Welcome to Elysium. May I ask who you are?"

Gnashing his teeth furiously, Deoq utters a quick curse of misfortune.

"Bloody robot... thinks it can threaten me... bloody robot..."

"It openly mocks you," a voice whispers in Deoq's ear from the shadows. "Destroy it. Prove your superiority over it to all those gathered here."

Deoq looks around quickly for any source of a voice, and finding nobody (I assume), just gulps and looks nervous rather than angry.

"Calm yourself Deoq. There is no need for us to be at odds with each other. The kindred will smell such tension in our ranks and turn us on ourselves. We cannot allow that to happen. Simply be careful with your abilities for the time being. Folco is starting to crack down on violators of Elysium rules. Speaking of your abilities..." Strom gestures at his doubles who are still standing around.

"Could you make them go away? I'd like to introduce myself to the newcomer, it would be rather awkward to have to introduce all three of me. I wonder if he is kindred or not?" The lupine looks towards the stranger in curiousity.

Dirsko makes no attempt to hide the disappointment in his face but nods to Gregor. "Very well then. You have obviously made up your mind and will not budge. Perhaps after some time in peaceful contemplation here in your great palace you may change your mind and decide to return to Elysium. In the meantime, you know how to contact me should you wish to discuss any urgent matters."

"As for returning to Elysium by myself...perhaps you could arrange something? The way I arrived here was interesting but not to my particular tastes."

"I am sorry I can't accompany you back. But it isn't wholly my decision either. I'm sure the Keeper of Elysium isn't anxious to have me back." Gregor smiles at Dirsko.

"As to the question of how to get you back, that's rather easy. I can have one of the jets take you to East Canuck. Or, if you prefer, I do have a zepplin available as well."

"Yes, you may ask. For now, you may call me Atif. I am the political and, as you might consider it, the spiritual leader of my people. Now may I ask the same question of you? And what of these others? What can you tell me of them?"

"Hmmm" Dirsko seems to sink into thought and his eyes stare ahead blankly.

After just enough time passes to be uncomfortable, he finally looks to Gregor. "The zepplin will suffice, it has been almost half a century since I've had the pleasure of riding in one. I will be certain to put some words in with the Keeper of Elysium to see that you can return when it suits you to do so. Hopefully Rover will keep his claws to himself this time." Dirsko smirks and nods that he is ready to depart.

Folco Boffin comes back to the main hall, deep in conversations with a middle-eastern man who is taking notes.

"And I want some wards over the ceiling to stop teleportation and othe nasty surprises of that kind. Over there, I want some dampers on the doors to stop people from eavesdropping. Also..."

and the two of them move into one of the corridors.

"Hmm..." is Deoq's only reply to Strom, his two doubles fold in on themselves and vanish. Meanwhile, Deoq regards the newcomer from afar in careful contemplation.

The SOI-bot stands in front of the newcomer, running numerous scans on him.

"I am His Most Dread Excellency, The SOI-bot, supreme ruler of the Robotic Utopia. I am also the Representative of non-Kindred Affairs for the region."

The SOI-bot accompanies Atif over to where Strom and Deoq are standing.

"Atif, I would like to introduce you to Strom Eberhard, the leader of the Western Concordiat, UN Delegate for our region, and Primogen of Foreign Relations. And this is Deoq, formerly of the Changeling Fief of the Jeweled Skull now of The Court of Shadows. Our host here, Prime Minister Folco Boffin of East Canuck, just passed by. If you did not blink you probably noticed him. And sadly, that is all of us here now. This place was once quite lively, but has quieted down as of late. Hopefully your arrival is a signal that the pendulum has reversed course once again."

"The zepplin? Really? Well, I guess it's good that someone will get to arrive at Elysium in it. I'll contact the airfield, it should be ready in about an hour."

Gregor leaves the private chamber to begin making preparations for Dirsko's departure.

A black limousine pulls up in front of Elysium, it’s antenna bears a miniature version of the flag of the Children of Sutekh’s nation. It has ambassadorial plates “GODCHLDE.”

Inside the lime is a lush interior sitting in a shadowed seat in the back is an unknown figure. An androgynous voice calls out from the back of a limousine, “Is this the must talked about Elysium?”

”Yes my pharaoh,” a straight forward male voice says.

“Excellent, then shall we introduce our neighbors to the doctrine of Sutekh?” the voice’s owner does not wait for an answer and instead opens the door to the limo and steps out.

He is En Sabah Nur, Hierophant of the Church of Set and Pharaoh of the Theocracy of Sutekh. And while I use the term he it is at quite a liberty to do so. He is tall for his apparent age, which is just around his mid-teens, his head and eyebrows are shaven off. His face has a soft chin and bee stung-like lips, his eyes are angular and sharp, he looks quite feminine to be honest. He wears the traditional robes of the Church of Set, black velvet with golden hieroglyphs in lays. He wears an additional garment over one shoulder a white, hand woven, linen garment with black hieroglyphs telling the story of Sutekh rise to power on it.

He walks forward with a great amount of grace and poise and he enters the Elysium.

As soon as Asmadi leaves the room, the shadows thicken and the voice from the darkness whispers to Dirsko, "Are you sure you'd rather not travel back in the same manner that you departed?" The malevolent chuckle that Dirsko is familiar with can be heard following the question.

Deoq strides forward distractedly to greet the Pharaoh.

"Nice to meet you, good sir, I am the Changeling Deoq of the Shadow Cour... err... Court of Shadows. On behalf of the other regional leaders, I welcome you to this Elysium. If it is not to impudent for me to ask, would you mind telling me who you are?"

En Sabah Nur smiles warmly at Deoq and says, "I am most Exalted En Sabah Nur, voice of Sutekh on this earth, Pharaoh and Heirophant of the Children of Sutekh. I give you warm greatings," His voice seems to resonate as he speaks, each word is giving perfect pronounciation as he answers. "I am warmed and pleased to have been invited to this event."

Atif is about to reply to the SOI-Bot when another newcomer enters Elysium. He slowly turns around to see the Pharoah already being greeted by Deoq. Atif squints as if trying to discern the hieroglyphs on his robes. He smiles in knowing at their significance.

"Ah. Most interesting." he says with no further explanation.

Dirsko replies to the darkness, though to a casual observer it would appear as if he were simply talking to himself.

"Is that an offer? I think I would prefer a nice, calm ride in the zepplin. It has been such a long time and I miss that era. I shall wait for Gregor to inform me that it is ready. I'm sure important things are happening in Elysium and I must get back to speak with the Prime Minister."

The Grand Tsar looks about the room, eyeing the shadows suspiciously. He puts his hand to his chin in thought. "Wait," he murmurs. "I thought this room was warded...."

"It is with the greatest pleasure that I welcome you here. Pardon me for asking, but are you of any particular supernatural affiliation? We here are a varied bunch, you see, and I'd just like to know where exactly we stand."

"You are quite correct, Dirsko, the room is warded. Normally, I wouldn't be able to speak to you thus, but Asmadi left the door open. The wards don't work if the circle is broken.

"Now that that has been established, are you sure you won't reconsider my offer to speed your travel? It's quicker than a glorified balloon, and nominally safer too. Come on, what do you say? It won't cost you . . . much."

"No offence is taken my fellow but I have already answered that question you just did not understand it. I am one of Sutekh's Chosen on this plane. I am his first. A being of lesser understanding would call us vampires, but that truely just shows limited capacity to accept those who cast their shackles off and surpass the Aeons" En Sabah Nur says with an devilish smile on his androgonous face.

"Ah, my apologies, I'm not yet entirely familiar with the lore of your race. What's this about 'Surpassing the Aeons' then? It certainly sounds interesting."

The God-King returns to the private room to find Dirsko.

"Ah, sorry for the delay. The zeppelin will be ready to depart by the time you arrive at the airfield. If you will follow me, I'll escort you to a limo that will take you there."

Gregor and Dirsko wander through the corridors of the Royal Palace, with Gregor occassionally pointing out various objects of interest along the way. Eventually, they arrive at the main courtyard, where a limousine is waiting. A guard opens the door for Dirsko, and as he gets into the vehicle, Gregor leans down and says, "Have a safe trip. Good luck at Elysium. Oh, and don't let the name spook you."

Without giving Dirsko a chance to ask what he meant by that last statement, Gregor closes the door and motions for the driver to depart. The limousine drives through the streets of Whitefall, treating Dirsko to the sights of Asmadonia's capital city. Nearly thirty minutes after leaving the palace, the car arrives at the airfield.

The driver stops the vehicle, and gets out to open the door for his passenger. As Dirsko exits the car, he can see the zepplin across the field, its name clearly marked along its side: Hindenburg II.

En Sabah Nur hushes his voice briefly to say, "It is to break the chains that keep us from being free and powerful. The Aeons would keep you from understanding your full potential. The Doctrine of Sutekh would release those chains from you so that you may become like him."

At this moment, you see Folco Boffin being escorted into the grand hall by one of the waiter.

"... I don't have time for new people. I'm busy, right now."

Folco then looks up and sees the new guests. "oh, you mean those kind of new peoples. Bring refreshments."

With a nod, the waiter dashes towards the kitchen. Folco, meanwhile, steps toward the newcommers.

"Welcome to the Elysium. I trust your trip was an uneventfull one. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Prime Minister Folco Boffin, Keeper of Elysium. I bid you welcome to these halls. If you have any questions or requests, just ask the waiting staff. Now, to whom do I have the pleasure?"

"Ah, how ironic. The God-King has a morbid sense of humor." Dirsko says out loud but to no one in particular.

Dirsko bravely approaches the zepplin, circling it once to inspect that everything is as it should be. "Quite marvelous!" he exclaims like an excited child. "This shall be a quiet and peaceful journey, I'm sure," says the Grand Tsar as if to calm himself.

Dirsko climbs the steps into the zepplin, motions to the pilot on board that he is ready to depart and settles into a comfortable sitting position in the cabin. He looks around for any reading material and at last finds a book that catches his interest. He pulls it out and begins reading a book entitled The Mystery of Flight 427.

About midway into Dirsko's flight, as he is engrossed in his book, his quiet time is interrupted by that now-oh-so-familiar voice, "So, you like mysteries, hm? I have a mystery for you. Do you know what happened to the Primogen of Commerce?"

Dirsko is given a moment to process the question before the darkness closes about him and he is dragged into the Abyss.

God-King Gregor Asmadi is lounging on his throne, humming a song quietly to himself. Suddenly a guard bursts into the throne room.

"Sire!"

Gregor sits up, yanked from his reverie by the guard's outburst. "Excuse me? Is there some reason you felt the need to interrupt me?"

"Forgive me, Sire! I bring news."

"Oh very well, what is it?"

"Sire, the zepplin you sent the Grand Tsar back to Elysium in . . . it . . . well, see, the thing is..."

"Spit it out!" Gregor demands.

"It exploded. About halfway along its journey. All hands were lost."

The God-King is momentarily speechless. Recovering, he asks, "The Grand Tsar?"

"Recovery teams are en route, but there's no way he could have survived. We will attempt to recover his remains, but there is little hope of that."

"Well, that's going to be a problem. Thank you for bringing me this news. See that a dispatch is sent to Prime Minister Folco Boffin, advising him of this development. And send the Archbishop to see me immediately."

"Of course, Sire," the guard says as he backs quickly out of the room.

Alone again, Gregor sits on his throne, gazing out into space.

"This is not going to end well."

Strom is busy sizing up the newcomers to Elysium when a mighty howl can be heard just outside the doors. He strides towards the great doors, opens them and steps outside. Nearly a half hour passes....

Strom enters Elysium once more, slamming the doors behind him with enough force to nearly break them loose. His teeth are barred, much like an angry wild animal and he grinds them as if rending a raw piece of meat.

He spots the SOI-Bot and approaches it. "What do you know of this usurper nation that has dared take the UN Delegate position from my grasp? And where is the Prime Minister? I must speak to him about this! This reeks of a kindred takeover."

The SOI-bot stares off into the distance for a moment, as he communicates with his aides in the Robotic Utopia. Once he has finished, he turns his attention to the enraged Garou.

"I have only just been informed. It appears the Hierophant began this, which may explain his continued absence from Elysium. This is most distressing. Not only are we unsure of which side this nation represents in the grander regional power structure, but this is a newcomer. You are correct, we need to speak with the Prime Minister immediately."

"Gentlemen, you were looking for me?"
Says Folco Boffin, peaking from a conversation with a newcommer.

"What is this I hear about treachery?"

Dirsko tries to find his bearings in the inky blackness, looking for a way out. Trying to remain calm, he calls out, "I can only assume you have a good reason for pulling me here once again. You must need me for something though you have an odd way of asking. Who are you and what do you want?"

Dirsko notices he still holds the book he was reading from the zepplin. In frustration, he tosses it off to his side. "Boring book anyway," he mumbles outloud.

Dirsko's book is tossed back at him from the darkness.

"Please don't litter, we don't appreciate it. Now, as to who am I, I am the representative of The Amici Noctis. What we want is for you to stop asking questions. Our intentions are not to be questioned. You will do as we wish, whether you wish to or not. Now, it is nearly time to return you to Elysium, so until then just sit quietly and dispose of your trash in the proper recepticles."

"Ah, Prime Minister. Good to see you!" says Strom as if in relief. He takes a deep breath to collect himself, looks to the SOI-bot and nods, then looks back to Folco before speaking.

"The treachery I speak of is this new nation that has somehow seized the Primogen of Foreign Affairs and UN Delegate position away from me. Granted, this is an elected position and as such I recognize this upstart country has somehow collected the necessary votes. I believe this is a huge mistake for the region. Perhaps someone has manipulated the endorsements and seeks to further their own agenda at the expense of the rest of us. Already I have heard reports this nation does not even comprehend our precedent of annexation!"

Strom spreads his arms open wide in reference to Elysium, "And do you even see anyone here from this nation to represent them?" Strom huffs in aggrivation at the situation. "What are your thoughts Prime Minister? Do you have any information on this?"

"Well, Mr. Eberhart, I do know a little about the situation." Says Folco Boffin with a smirk on his face.

"But my thoughts are my own. You should look at the bright side, it leaves you open to apply for the Defense Primogen seat. Or you can always do a public campaign to regain your former title. What is lost can be regained."

"But it is indeed a shame that so many head of states don't give us the courtesy of presenting themselves here to discuss important matters of state. For example, I just received a missive from Asmadonia that says that Dirsko of Dementate is missing, presumably dead. That is disturbing news, more than a wolf loosing a title that rightfully belong to a kindred."

In the darkness, the voice says, "Good news, Dirsko, you are presumed dead. It won't be long now before you are released."

Dirsko looks about and seeing no trash receptacles in the Abyss, he chooses to stash his book inside the jacket of his suit. "Presumed dead, am I? But I was en route to Elysium on board the zepplin before...."

Several thoughts run through the Grand Tsar's head, then his eyes widen in shock. "Something must have happened to the zepplin! Perhaps it was shot down, or maybe it was sabotaged to crash! Someone wants me to meet final death...and if they believe me gone they may try to make their move now. I must be vigiliant and discover who my enemy is...."

The Grand Tsar begins to notice that the darkness is thinning, and he gets the sense that he is moving. Within moments, he finds himself in what appears to be a forest (at night, of course).

"Have fun, little Kook," the voice whispers. After that, Dirsko can feel the presence drift away, leaving him in this wooded area alone.

And then he hears a wolf howl in the distance. It's call is quickly echoed by several others from all around him.

Strom narrows his eyes, but otherwise does not respond to the slight against him. With a guttural grunt, he turns from the Prime Minister and returns to stand near the SOI-Bot.

"The Prime Minister was correct in one thing, what was lost to me can be regained. If our current UN Delegate can't even grace us with his or her presence here at Elysium, it should be a relatively simple matter to reclaim that title for the non-kindred population. I shall have to be more alert in the future for kindred plots against us."

With a smirk, Strom asks the SOI-Bot, "Have you heard any news of Dirsko? Folco presumes he has met his demise based on the word of Gregor Asmadi."

Looking around, Dirsko quickly takes stock of his surroundings. He quickly surmises that the night is still young, though the wolf howls are too close for comfort. Knowing that the wolves will work quickly to surround him, Dirsko chooses his best course of action is to run and run fast for the nearest source of water to lose the scent. As he breaks out in a full sprint, he wishes he had taken the time at some point in his nearly 9 centuries of undeath to develop the discipline of celerity.

"So I heard," The SOI-bot responds. "I had thought the Prime Minister was wiser than to trust that fop's word on anything. But I have no information to confirm or disprove the statement. Neither I nor the considerable resources of the Robotic Utopia have been able to locate Dirsko since he vanished from Elysium following the altercation."

A flurry of ravens disturbs the happenings around Elysium, when the cloud clears, everything looks rather different. Dotted around are ornate fountains of bone that spurt out blood and faerie water. Electric lighting has been replaced with a series of macabre candles, placed on any and all surface available. A ghostly dirge wafts around the halls of Elysium, its source unclear. Any plants in the area grow gnarled and thorny, twisting around themselves as if tortured. A series of ghastly apparitions float through the walls, silent and pale, clothed in black cloaks, their eyes turned down in mourning. The ravens take up residence in the rafters, and in any space not allready occupied by candles, their beady eyes constantly scanning the room for threats.

Amidst all this, Deoq floats down from the ceiling, his dark robes flurrying around his otherwise pale features.

"Today the Nomadic Peoples of the Court of Shadows finally have a place to call their own, after having been turned from their own country by jealous bloodsuckers. I figured to celebrate this monumentous occasion, I would throw a little party. I think you'll find refreshments are provided.

"And while I have your attention, I would just like to remind the enemies of my people that they have not been forgotten."

"And I would like to remind YOU that supernatural power are prohibited in Elysium. Do I have to make myself understood once again?" says Prime Minister Folco Boffin, eyes glowing red with barely contained anger.

"Deoq," The SOI-bot says, "you have been warned about this in the past. If you do not cease and desist immediately, you will be dealt with."

"I'm just trying to liven up the place... Fine, fine."

The ravens descend from the rafters, obscuring the view, when the black cloud shifts, everything is back to normal.

"Gawd, you people are so DULL. How else are we supposed to celebrate?"

"Gawd, you people are so DULL. How else are we supposed to celebrate?"
"Either quietly or organize a celebration. If you organize a celebration, hire some help to put your banners, fountain and the likes. Put simply, don't use your powers outside your private quarters."

"WHY? I'm not hurting anybody. In fact, I'm doin you all a service! This place is so dull it needs livening up, and if none of you are willing to do it..."

"Is that a threat, fairy?" The SOI-bot asks. "The rules are the rules, and are not to be questioned. If you feel you cannot abide by them, despite agreeing to do so, then you had best leave. We will not have a repeat of your previous stay here."

"No, it is not a threat. I'm just saying that if nobody else is willing to make the place look vaguely interesting I'll take it upon myself to do so. Why shouldn't I question the rules? If they're pointless and unjust then surely it's my duty to question them, as in this case. In my opinion, the rule should be changed only to encompass harmful and/or malicious uses of such powers. Surely that's more reasonable for everyone?"