NationStates Jolt Archive

The Jewel in the Crown

The sleek lined transports bounced along the thundering waves, forward in the horizon lay a small black isle almost desolate of any life. As a wave thundered over the thin aluminium walls the soldiers within were sprayed with a cold and bitter fluid. The water running down off of their black Kevlar suits only served to wipe away the camouflage oils that coated their full body Armour. The speakers inside their helmets suddenly coming to life became a hint that they were nearing their target.

The first transport shook with a violent thud as the sides fell away, the helmsman sitting up in the open canopy gave a wave to signal the advance. Across the Radio a “Go Go Go” was thundered by the Kings second Highlander division. Landing upon the rocky beech, much like the West coast of Scotland the troops made their way towards the centre of the Island.

London England

His Majesty King George the Fourth was sitting down for afternoon tea. Reports were coming in of increasing tension in the Baltic as well as a small mobilization by the French. The King taking in a sharp breath laughed to himself at the though of the French pulling off a military campaign that worked. From a large selection of broadsheet newspapers His Majesty lifted up The Times as it was closer to hand. Everything seemed well in the world, well for the Empire at least. Now, fifteen years after conquering China the military were once again demanding to flex their muscles and His Majesty being one of the most accommodating people within the Empire allowed them to conquer a small uninhabited Island in some god forsaken ocean. “One lump or two Majesty” came from his loyal and most trusted servant who had just brought in the pot of tea.

“I think I will have just one sugar today James, I do eat far too much of the stuff.”

“Yes Majesty, the servant followed. Pouring out the tea he left the King to his train of thought.”

After only a few minutes James knocked upon the study doors which glowed from the warmth of the crackling fire. “You Majesty, General Upsworth wishes an audience, do you give permission for him to be permitted?”

The King turned to his favourite servant “Yes I suppose so, allow him to enter.”

The General marched into the room with confidence, bowing to the king out of a mark of respect he waited until he was asked to be seated.

“Please sit General” The King said while motioning to a chair.

General Upsworth not daring to refuse a request from His Majesty obediently sat like a trained dog. The two men sitting next to each other looked into each others eyes trying to discover what the other was thinking, finally after a small period of silence the King broke the still air in the room. “I understand that the assault on Phillania is going according to plan general?” The King asked doubtfully. A military assault never went according to plan, there was always some form of problem waiting just around the corner……….

(OOC: This story looks interesting so far. Is this an open RP?)

The dry crackle of the radio startled the Night's Watch commander of the backwater outpost, jerking him from his reverie. For a brief moment he thought he had simply dreamed it, but again the radio came to life, the voice of his young watchmen out on one of the beach towers sounding once more as he croaked,"Commander! We've got encroaching vessels touching down on the Sliver, sir... Numbers are only coming in now, but..."

The young Reaver hesitated only a moment before slapping the keypad of his communications terminal and shouting into the radio,"Confirmed encroachment. Going hot, Reavers. Allow for communication..."

The hail went out immediately, and as it did so all over the island and in the surrounding waters Reavers armed themselves and alarms were sounded aboardship,"Encroaching vessels, this is Reaver Command. You are in Panteran waters, without authorization! Cease your movements and identify yourselves immediately! I repeat, identify yourselves or be scourged..."

As the message was going out, another one was being wired to far Pantera and the Lord Reaver. In the months since the Summer Storms rebellion the Evenstar had decreed that ANY strange activities be reported to the Lord Commander of the Watch and the Lord Reaver himself. And this was assuredly a strange occurance.

The 'Sliver' as Panteran's called the isle of Phillania was a shit-hole of a posting, reserved for green Reavers and those who had shamed themselves. It was not even officially a holding of Pantera or even a protectorate, but noone had ever given it much thought, and the Lord Reaver's had claimed the barren little spot of rock since driving the British from Pantera so long ago.

Holding his breath, the commander waited for a reply...

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

The Seastone Palace - Toke, Pantera

The Lord Reaver was awake when they came, but it irritated him nonetheless. He was only now settling into a routine with his young wife, and it seemed as if there were unending interruptions whenever they snuck a moment together. Still, it was better to be bothered than to allow anything to slip into Pantera.

He listened patiently to the Watch's reports, taking a small glass of brandy as he did so. When they finished he clicked his tongue in irritation and settled down to wait for further reports.

As the infantry touched down on the landing shores, the massed fleet in the background slowly crept over the horizon. Several carriers could be seen silhouetted against the rising sun while the battleships and frigates moved in towards the new British soil.

On board the Flagship H.M.S Retribution Admiral Hoyle sat in his command chair not expecting much. This island was supposed to be uninhabited, no one had claimed it nor was there any radio contact informing them that they had strayed into another nations sovereign waters. He could only continue with Grand Admiral Hayes and General Upsworths orders to continue with the invasion, he had even heard that the King himself was watching this small military exercise with much anticipation. Pacing the bridge the admiral watched in awe as the black interior of the desolate rock turned a brilliant red as the bombers finished their attack runs.

“Move, move move.” Screamed a frantic sergeant. This island was supposed to be uninhabited and yet there were reports coming in from all the landing points of sporadic resistance. His squad was moving up towards a wooden structure situated on a small cliff face. Trudging through the snow he moved his right hand slightly signalling for a sniper to take position and scout the structure. Years of combat and common sense told him that it was a lookout outpost. Its position was ideal, it was on top of a wooded cliff face and overlooked half of the suitable landing sites on the Island. Transferring the feed from Johns on board helmet camera Sergeant Mackay watched as he crept closer and closer towards the tower. The sound of heavy breathing flooded in from his speakers until there was a sharp sound of twigs breaking. The sniper immediately lifting to his feat in an attempt of escape fell to the ground while the camera feed turned to a dark red. “Shot through his visor” Sergeant Mackay told the rest of the squad. “Well at least now we can confirm a hostile presence.” Calling in an air strike the sergeant would soon be happy as the enemy burned in a cloud of napalm and shrapnel.

HMS Invincible

Captain Hale, like the rest of the captains in the fleet was busily pacing along the bridge. Assaults in general were boring for the Navy, there was very little to do even at the best of times. From the other side of the bridge he could here officers confirming elevations with the gunnery towers and coordinates for the missiles. At least if anything was to be gained from this apart from a total waste of money the Empire would be happy in knowing that its seamen had gained a greater combat knowledge. A comms officer quickly came up from behind saluting in the traditional rigid fashion he handed the captain a brown envelope, which detailed the reports of a one Sergeant Mackay and some form of enemy resistance, handing the envelope back the captain ordered the report stored. He was under strict orders from Grand Admiral Hayes to keep this assault going for at least an hour, then reports of an enemy presence would be allowed to filter up the command chain.

As the distant watchtower exploded in a gout of flame the others frantically drew back. They had contingency plans for such an attakc, but none had ever thought to use them. Setting fire to the lookout stations, they activated their trips and other perimeter defenses and fell back, abandoning their positions.

The commander himself was in communication with Panteran Command, informing them that they were officially under heavy attack. As he pleaded for aid his garrison readied the underground bunker. Though it barely deserved the name, the bunker would hold against all but the most horrific blast. Cut into the black rock of the island itself and reenforced with steel walls and roof, those Reavers still alive could fall back into it and wait for help...

Offshore, the skeleton fleet of Pantera began slow retreat. They, too, would wait for aid from mainland Pantera, but free and apparently unnoticed, they would harry the enemy.

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

In the Seastone Palace the Lord Reaver was in a fury. With no response to the hail, he was obliged to wipe the island with fire and then chastise the nation responsible. However, with over one hundred Reavers still in hiding on the isle, he decided to wait on the declaration, but to engage the enemy immediately, and relentlessly.

As reports of battle were still streaming in, the mighty Eastern Fleet of Pantera pulled out of the Braavosi harbor, four hundred miles east of the Panteran mainland, and made steam for the Sliver, only a slim distance from the staging ground of Braavos. From the decks of the great fleet's carriers rose a swarm of bombers and their stout AtmosFighter escorts. Streaking overhead, they left the fleet behind and swept toward the distant speck of island. Closing swiftly, they broke flight and moved to attack formation.

"One sweep, boys, just to let them know we mean business. Blood and Fire, Reavers."

The warcry echoed through a score of headphones as the first wave of AtmosFighters plunged down out of the night-darkened sky and into the midst of the enemy fleet. Their attention on the fire being directed toward the island's defenses, they had only a moment's notice before the first barrage of Reaver fire sliced down into them.

As the enemy AA came to bear one of the AtmosFighters exploded in a red flash and then the first wave was reeling away. A few of the enemy might have thought them broken, but that was before the first payload of the AtmosFighters companion bombers fell among them.

As the cool blanket of the sea erupted into a field of flame and mist the bombers, too, pulled back and reoriented themselved to attack from a new angle, a few of their number falling from the sky.

As the reformed AtmosFighters again swooped down, strafing the waiting fleet with their fire, another hail went out,"Cowardly enemy forces! You have condemned yourselves to a fiery fate at the hands of the Lord Reaver. Cease your fire and surrender immediately, and some of you may be spared. I repeat..."

Five Hours After Landing

Admiral Hoyle was enjoying lunch in the officers mess, the grand oak table and the smooth well varnished high back chairs were a privilege for himself and others of his social standing. Quietly cutting away at his steaming chicken breast the Admiral was wondering about these so called reports that had just filtered through only an hour ago. Resistance? The reports must be flawed, intelligence had personally scouted the area under the orders of General Upsworth…… Hoyle paused in mid thought, dropping his knife and fork he quickly made his way to the bridge. Upsworth that traitorous dog, he had done it again.

The Revised Empires flag was now being raised in the centre of the island as a mark of victory against whatever foe dared to oppose them. AA blimps now being raised were hovering in the sky making Phillania resemble WW2 London. The naval forces keeping their distance from the treacherous rocks could only offer a limited amount of support, for the most part however the infantry was alone.

Storming onto the bridge Admiral Hoyle looked around, everything was normal, there was no incoming attacks, no dieing men perhaps he was wrong on this one. No he was never wrong when it came to Upsworth. “Radar”

“Yes Admiral” a young officer replied.

“What do you have on Radar son? It had better be nothing.”

“Admiral, the proximity to the island is throwing off our signals a little but there is only a small amount of interference.”

“Is this interference?” The Admiral pointed to some small blips just above the horizon. “Interference that’s coming towards us!” He said in shock. “BATTLESTATIONS.”

As the location of the incoming force was being fed to the fleet, anti aircraft batteries were coming online. As missiles flew from naval and blimp home alike it could not change the fact that the British forces were taken by what the Admiral Hoyle would describe to the King as “As a small degree of surprise.”

The Island was the first to be attacked with enemy fighters coming in underneath the cliff face of the island making them impossible to target with missiles. Moving upwards the infantry could only watch in horror as they were engulfed in flames. For a second time Admiral Hoyle watched, this time with a slight resentment as the Island erupted into flames. The anti-aircraft balloons held their part, with their launchers above and below they attacked enemy fighters and missiles alike as they came into range. Bullets strewed after the black exhaust of an encroaching weapon while the infantry sought cover in the soft alpine forest.

As the enemy fighters moved away from the Island they now headed for the fleet. Without their element of surprise their next attack run would be a folly, however the Admiral could only feel that this was a warning. “Admiral we have an incoming transmission” said a young man now realising that he could soon lose his life. Cowardly enemy forces! You have condemned yourselves to a fiery fate at the hands of the Lord Reaver. Cease your fire and surrender immediately, and some of you may be spared.

“Well he gets to the point Hoyle remarked.” Moving over to the communications console he began a transmission of his own.

”Unknown forces, you have attacked and are currently violating His Majesties air space and territorial waters. This Island is now British soil and has been since we raised our flag upon it over two hundred years ago. You are requested to cease your attempts and withdraw immediately.”

As the chatter of the combat channels was relayed to mainland Pantera the Evenstar sat in his great palace, listening. Blimps? What kind of fools were these, to invade Panteran territory in baloons? Perhaps it was all a farce? Well, they would soon learn that he had no sense of humor. Quickly he sent orders for his air forces to withdraw to a safe distance and plead a moment's cease-fire.

Snapping orders, he inquired to his Eastern Fleet's position.

"An hour out, M'lord, little more... We're in comfortable range for sorties" Came the reply.

Nodding his great head, his twin, golden braids swinging about his shoulders, he began directing orders. His reserve AtmosFighters would climb. There they would stay, skipping along the upper reaches of the earth's atmosphere until combat resumed. He would put an end to their monstrous floating AA installations. "Blimps..." He chuckled.

"Who has the command of my fleet?" He inquired.

"Your Hound, M'lord."

Pleased, he issued a few short orders to his Warhound. Short, for the old man probably cared little, and new it anyway.

He sounded the reply to the enemy himself, his voice being bounced from satellite to ship,"British? {*Laughter*}You refer to us as 'unknown forces'. Well, I shall put a face and fury to those who will surely be your annihilation. I am Dayne the Evenstar, By the Grace of Gods Old and New, Lord Reaver of Pantera and all of the Free Lands, and YOU are all as good as dead unless you surrender immediately. The Sliver is ours and has been since your coward ancestors were driven from our shores so long ago. As they died screaming, so shall you unless this foolish action is halted and your forces surrendered to await my pleasure. Your High Command is invited, under the protection of My Own Word to the deck of the Panteran flagship, Seabitch, in order to discuss terms of surrender. You have one hour. After that, your fate is sealed in gore."

British? It was almost amusing. These fools were giving him just what he needed most: A victory.

Admiral Hoyle winced at the new intelligence data coming through. There was no way that the current task force would be able to take on the encroaching armada. The troops on the dark isle were doomed that much was certain however he could not allow any of them to be captured alive. The Blimp forces holding their own were devastating the compliment of enemy missiles which were being launched at the fleet and infantry in a frenzied wave pattern, this would not last for long. Every counter in the view screen showed their ammunition to be in the red, soon they would be out and they too would be lost to the Kingdom of God.

“Ensign.” the Admiral demanded, “We cannot win this battle, signal the fleet to prepare for retreat. Order all fighters to be recalled were heading back to Vorin.”

“At once Admiral.” The young recruit said.

The orders quickly filtered throughout the command structure of the eager fleet. Everyone knew that to stay was to die, and dieing in a futile manner was not custom to any British Admiral. “Do not count this as a defeat.” The Admiral told his crew. “For the true valour in battle is knowing when to fall back. The enemy will grow confident, they will believe us to be weak however they will be wrong. If they dare to follow us, if they attempt to hunt us down I assure you the Hunters will become the hunted” After that quick morale boost the Admiral sought about removing any possibility that the Rebel scum of Pantera will have of using Phillania in the near future.

Deep in the bowels of the HMS Invincible three missiles were being prepared. Upon their streamlined cone the all to apparent symbol of Radiation danger could be seen. Admiral Hoyle had personally authorized their use. Travelling up the safety of the conveyor belt they were carefully lowered into place by the latest in automotive reloading. As the missiles launched, as the fleet retreated, as the infantry fought for their lives, Admiral Hoyle considered the odds for survival. They were remote. Theere would be little if any British survivors to tell of this military disgrace.

Traversing through the atmosphere faster than the speed of sound the self propelled weapons quickly descended to their targets. Bursting in the air they did not detonate nor did they release a nuclear explosion all they did was generate their own form of snow.

As the fleet retreated Admiral Hoyle felt satisfied in knowing the rage that the enemy would feel with each of their hails being Ignored.

"Sir... We're getting something strange, here... It seems the enemy fired, but there was no concussion. We were tracking at least three inbound, but they just... vanished." The young communications officer informed the Evenstar.

Dayne thought for a moment and questioned,"Stealth kicking in, perhaps?"

"Doubtful, sir. They did something. Just don't know what..."

Strange.... He thought. No payload? Then why fire? Something was afoot. The Evenstar could feel it in his soul,"Orders are for fleet to remain at a safe distance. Keep in communication with our men still on the isle. I want to know what's going on."

Scowling, Dayne ordered that the Great Hall be readied, and that press be indentified. Meanwhile, orders were sent out. The aircraft already in the air were to continue harrying the fleet, but to keep distance.

OOC: Unfinished...

Savage reporting. All day, every day. Channel 420 News!

We're live in Toke, Pantera this morning, where the Lord Reaver is set to address the Panteran nation and international community. Vague at best, reports are that the nation came under attack late last night, and that this morning the Evenstar will take his Reavers into the midst of war once more... We're getting... Yes, we're starting now. Ladies and gentlemen, Dayne the Evenstar:

My friends, I come before you today to express my outrage. The world knows that Pantera is a nation of warriors and poets, killers and saints. Although our Reavers are vicious warriors who revel in warfare, have always cherished peace over bloodshed, even moreso after the previous year, in which we lost millions of citizens, and our most cherished leader, to the Coward Council's rebellion.

Late last night a cowardly attack upon the Isle of the Sliver, better known as Phillania, was launched by an enemy of long ago. Yes, scores of Reavers lost their lives to this attack, for the enemy pounced under the cover of darkness, like a sneak-thief. Cowards tactics, to be sure, but what can we expect of these British dogs?

Driven from our shores over one hundred and fifty years ago, these Imperialist dogs have returned, thinking to regain what was lost. I say they are fools, and will die a death suitable to those who would sneak and backstab, rather than stand and fight like true men. Even our hails were ignored, for they knew their excuses would crumble like so much chalk before the righteous anger of Pantera.

To the King of this Reviled... Oh, pardons, revised British Empire, I have a simple statement: Lower your eyes, dog, for Pantera is a jewel you will never add to your coffers. The Sliver is ours, and you shall never have it. As my ancestors crushed your attempts at subjugation, so will I. You have chosen to bring red war to my Free Lands, yet I promise you that should you choose to press this conflict, the lifesblood of your soldiers will soak my fields and feed the fishes of my waters. The people of your nation will learn the meaning of the word 'Vengeance'.

Yet, there is still time for peace. I am a gracious and forgiving man. Merciless to my enemies, I am nonetheless Just to those who would embrace peace. I have ordered my forces to cease their fire until the sun sets. You have until then to seek what wisdom you may have. I shall await your resonse, as I am sure nations the world over will.

So there you have it, King of Fools, Lord of Treachery. There is my offer: Peace and forgiveness, or Blood and Fire.

Dayne the Evenstar
Lord Reaver of Pantera
Drag the Waters of War

The cabinet meeting was once again filled with the rich smoke of Caribbean tobacco. Prime Minister Sir Walter Reynolds was attempting to restore some order within the supposedly calm atmosphere. “Gentleman please, we must have some order. Please quiet down and we can begin to sort out this small mishap.” The Prime Minister begged his cabinet to no avail, there was still muttering and power playing. Until an ominous “SILENCE” was boomed through the room.

“I will not have my government act like a mob of common muck the King boomed. I am here to sort this mess out. General Upsworth and Admiral Hayes are responsible for this travesty, after all they planned the assault on what I was told was an uninhabited Island. How can someone overlook an entire garrison?”

“Your majesty.” Began Sir Richard Waybourugh. “The Island is covered in a large amount of plant growth. It is understandable for the inelegance mishap, perhaps we should absolve General Upsworth and Admiral Hayes form…. From this error.”

“Perhaps.” began the King, “However I demand a full update on the situation. Recent actions in France and Scotland have distracted me for the most part.”

“At once sire.” An aide at the back of the room stated. Handing the king a fifteen thousand page report on the current situation and projection outcome the King only looked in anger. “I meant a verbal report, get out of my sight before I have your hand removed for being such a dimwit. Now be gone servant.” The aide glancing a not so well hidden look of hatred backed out of the room, insuring he faced the King the entire way.

“Majesty.” The Prime Minister finally begun. “As of two days ago the twenty second expeditionary fleet reported attacks from an unknown force. Fifty two men were killed in the initial attacks which were promptly reported by a Sergeant Mackay, unfortunately for reasons we have yet to resolve the chain of communication broke and the report lay in a paper tray for over an hour.”

A look of surprise shot over the Kings face.

“Yes and that is the earliest of estimates. The report lay in the comms room of the Invincible for at least an hour, therefore Admiral Hoyle knew nothing of the resistance until a full scale war was underway. At that point the rest as how do the yanks put it, the rest is history. The enemy now identified as the Panterans sent out half of their fleet to take on a small battle group which we saw as rather unsporting. Admiral Hoyle took the standard approach of scorched Earth, Phillania has now been coated in a radioactive dust rendering it inhospitable for at least two years.”

“Casualties?” The King asked.

“Two thousand three hundred and fifty two. We could not evacuate the men, therefore rather that allowing them to be captured we authorized the use of suicide. Their full body suits will have injected them with enough poison to make their deaths quick and painless.”

“That is not the point Mr Prime Minister, I as of this moment am assuming full command of the situation, there will be no more decisions made by this cabinet, you are absolved of your obligation to the Panteran incident gentleman. I bid you good day.” The King turned and left the smoke filled room. Rats, all of them rats, all they do is feed of the death of another perhaps he should dissolve parliament, no not yet, the last thing his nation needed was another civil war. But first the king needed the support of the people, after all the people decided who was in power, hmmm, a broadcast to the populous would be an excellent idea, perhaps The King muttered to himself.


The traditional monotone voice came over the radio. The music now playing signaled the start of the ten o clock news. This is the BBC reporting to you live at ten pm. Our main headlines tonight are.
Pantera declares war upon the Revised Empire.
*Big Ben Chime*
France begins massive mobilization, war imminent.
Big Ben Chime*
New NHS fraud in the Royal infirmary and teachers, are your children safe?
But first we are reporting on the incident regarding the nation of Pantera. Formally a British colony that was granted independence in 1856 the United Kingdom and His Majesties commonwealth sought to reopen a diplomatic channel with the nation by settling a small diplomatic envoy on an unclaimed isle called Phillania. Attacks came from every direction as though they were waiting to pounce on our mission of peace. Admiral Hoyle and the Royal Navy fought bravely reportedly sinking three enemy battleships with no losses to their own force. The enemy realizing that they had no opportunity for victory dampened Phillania in a radioactive cloud killing all British infantry and ambassador Sir Winston Matthews. His Majesty King Geroge the Fourth is reportedly considering further action though hopes of opening a diplomatic channel are slim, we even have some sketchy reports from the palace that His Majesty is attempting to broker for a peace settlement, even in light of the murder of British citizens.



Vorin

The fleet slowly sailed into port, some ships were black from enemy missiles others were unscarred. Admiral Hoyle remained in his Air Craft carrier obviously nervous as to the current disposition of the King. Fearing what may happen at home more than death from the Panterans, at least they would make it quick Hoyle thought. Still on his command chair he waited for the hunters to arrive at the military base considered impregnable by most British military advisors, but that too was once thought of Singapore. The island was being prepared for attack while over head in the skies a small diplomatic plane could be seen heading towards the enemy nation. Inside the Prince of Wales was sorting his papers for the upcoming negotiations.

Dayne was in a fury. Three battleships sunk?! The gall. Well, this King had shown himself lacking in honor, even so far as admitting minor defeat. He had hoped that the fool could be reasoned with and some measure of peace restored, but if this kind of idiocy continued for long Dayne would have to chastise him.

Regardless, he had to negotiate. With the Summer Storms rebellion not a year supressed, the Reavers were still weary and the smallfolk as well. Still, such foolishness could not go unpunished, and he ordered the Third Pacific Fleet to sound the boarding call and take to the seas. The occupied port of Coward's Cross was formerly a city of Shanaok, but was conquered and fortified as a far-base by Dayne's father, Valanus Vayne, some eight years earlier. With British holdings in the Pacific only a stone's throw away, the port would serve as his launching ground if it came to invasion.

For now, though, he would meet with this 'Prince'. The boy had arrived almost an hour earlier, sped to Pantera hastily, Dayne thought. Perhaps the old King was afraid, and wished to make terms. The Evenstar hoped so. He lusted for peace.

Most were awed by the the great stone halls and towering arches of the Seastone Palace, and Dayne hoped this Prince George would be as well. Many called it the greatest stronghold ever build by man. The Iron Lion's monstrous fortress had never fallen, and for good reason. It would dwarf the great fortresses of Europe, and probably any that the young British Prince would have ever seen. The Palace was an immense, grey-green mass, perched on the lip of great quartz crag, some two-thousand feet above the swirling crimson tides of the Blood Bay. The curtain walls soared into the air, dwarfing the highest buildings of the small city that surrounded them, while hundreds of towers thrust into the sky behind it. And highest of all, the Kraken Keep, it's heights seeming to scrape at the belly of the clouds as they raced by...

Slumped casually on the Seastone Chair, Dayne seemed at his ease. He wore his long golden hair in their customary twin braids, each as thick as one of his massive wrists, his slim coronet perched on his brows and threaded through his braids. His dress was simple in black wool shirt and pants, his only concessions to ornament the crown and a thin silver chain. The hilt of a great, two-handed broadsword leaned against the carved-longship armrest of the throne. The Evenstar recieved the young prince, his own Heralds crying:

"The Scourge: The Lord Reaver, Dayne the Evenstar. Emporer of the ThirdEye and Lord Paramount of the Free Lands of Pantera. May I humbly present his servant: The Prince of Wales, His Highness George Stewart, the first of his name, Heir to the Kingdom of Britain."

Dayne's purple eyes danced with amusement at the look of outrage on the faces of some of the Prince's entourage, but he said nothing for a long moment. He only stared at the Prince, his senior by many years. Dayne put the man in his middle thirties, while he himself was only twenty and four. Time to dance... He thought as he rose.

Looking down from the dais upon which the throne was set, he inclined his head as a King to lesser men, and said,"Be welcome to my Hall, Prince George. I truly hope you come bringing apologies, for if not I am liable to become wroth with you and your father..."

The small smile that stole across the Evenstar's face had frightened many men. It was not threatening in the least, in fact it made him all the more handsome. Only the terrible import of the smile was threatening. It was the beauty of the calm ocean before the wild storm.

OOC: Just to amuse myself.

IC:

The suits were uncomfortable. Made of layer upon layer of light-weight, leaded rubber, they were hot and clingy, especially in the heat of the Sliver's foliage. The Team had complained of it more than once, but they got the ass-end of funding in the Panteran military, as theirs was a seldom used force. Hell, aside from training excercises, they had not been called to active service in eight years, since Shanaok hit Gade with a small chem-waarhead. Eight years. After all, who in their right mind would use any sort of WMD against Pantera? Noone, that's who.

Until now. Who were these Brits? Did they not know that Pantera was the land of fire and blood? Were they not aware that the Reavers had scorched nations from the earth and transformed continents into pyres? Perhaps they did know, and they thought to match the Evenstar blow for blow. If so, then more the fool they. This man was descendant of Jass of the Tor, who had driven the British into the sea so long ago. This man was the son of Valanus Vayne, who had swept aside armies that would have smothered the whole of Britain beneath their boots. He was the brother of Bastien the Bronze, the Lord Reaver who had bled and shaken the earth alongside Automagfreek's Damien Dreadfire, until that every nation trembled with fear...

And the Evenstar was the worst of them. The handsome, smiling youth had once been the darling of Pantera. Women wanted him and men yearned to be a tenth part of his greatness.... But no longer. Now, he was a different sort of monster. He had seen his father killed by a rebel Lord, and had avenged him, washing the aching wounds of his grief in a tide of blood. Then, six years later, he had watched a different set of Lords rise in rebellion and rob him of his hero and brother, Bastien. The youth had finally caved into the violence. It was whispered that millions died in his seven-week supression of the Summer Storms rebellion, named for the lightning-fast raids and conquerings of the Evenstar and the Eurydian, Beowulf.

He scoured the land clean of treachery, and in doing so created about himself a legend. Stories of madness and cruelty circulated. Stories of cannabilsm, dark rites to strange gods and much, much worse.

Who knew the truths of these rumours? The only thing that was certain was that the charming, heroic boy that the Evenstar once was had gone to nothingness. In its place was a thing of darkness and hatred...

And now these Brits had committed an act punishable by Blood Feud, an atrocity of the worst kind. The readings the team were getting showed high levels of radioactive materials. Whatever their weapon was, it was going to kill the Reavers on the island, ruin the isle itself...

And possibly condemn millions to their death.

Entering the truly magnificent hall the prince looked up with some amusement, He honestly thinks that this looks good? he thought to himself. These Panterans are savages, the Empire may have to show them how to become a civilised nation once more, but now is not the time The Revised Empire was up to its neck in it, a fact that he had to hide from the Panterans at all costs. With small Rebellions in Scotland from a blood thirsty clan which calls itself Hamptonshire, the French up to their tricks and with the Empire conducting two large invasions of Kazakhstan and Mongolia His Majesties realm was not in a position for a full scale war. If the circumstances had been different then perhaps this “Reaver” would have been forced into civilisation.

Making his way up towards the dias the prince bowed slightly recognising the Reavers higher rank and station. He was a young man, no older than twenty five but no doubt he was headstrong like many of his age. He shouldn’t be too hard to manipulate.

“Lord Reaver I come on behalf of his Majesties government and the British Commonwealth. Sadly I have not been authorised to issue a formal apology however I come bearing his Majesties regret at such an incident. I have been sent by my father in an attempt to quell any further hostilities to a minimum, and to enquire as to why your forces opened fire upon British infantry conducting a peaceful training exercise. Phillania is in International waters, it is officially unclaimed by any nation, and we are curious as to why your forces instigated an act of war?

The prince looked around the vast throne room. All he could see were men obviously in the military gazing with what looked like rage upon him. With an internal laugh the prince must look into Panteras past, I wonder how many savages my ancestors sought about purging, after all these are indeed savages, but he had no choice, a deal must be brokered for the moment.

Looking up at the Lord Reaver the Prince noticed a large broadsword at his side, only wearing a rapier the Prince was confident that if he attempted to swing for him he would easily cut this ”man” down with speed and agility rather than using uncivilised strength.

"Unclaimed? Perhaps in Britain you and your people have different definitions of 'claim' than we do here in Pantera..." With a clap the Evenstar summoned a group of servants bearing wine and other refreshments for the British delegation. As they helped themselves he continued, the lazy smile still on his face,"You see, Pantera did claim 'Phillania'. My troops were there, no? They slapped down your own forces and sent them home, tail tucked."

He spread his hands, as if helpless,"As for 'International Waters'... Who sets the boundaries of these waters? No one I care to heed. The Sliver belongs to Pantera by right of conquest..."

His smile slipping away to leave his youthful face grim, he creases his forehead,"The lives of some three hundred Reavers were lost on that Isle, due to your nations treachery. Your own losses were much, much greater, no? I promise you, had they not taken the cowards way out, the result would have been the same. Their suicide only deprived my Reavers of the pleasure of cutting them to pieces, slowly."

His voice had begun as a rich bass, but as he spoke the tone dropped to a dead drone, though it made the import of his words all the more threatening,"I have no wish to destroy you or your people, Sir. But on my honor I will. Your future throne will be toppled before my onslaught and you will be left to rule over charred bone and smoking rubble...'

"Your father may claim whatever he wishes. An accident, a rogue general, or even a training excersise gone wrong. I care not. We both know the truth, Sir. Words are words, but Honor knows." Giving a slight toss of his head, his braids swinging about, he growled on,"But, I will have his pledge of peace made public. Should he choose to break his vow I would have his own people know of his infamy."

His purple eyes narrowed slightly, he concluded,"Do not think I make idle boasts, Prince George. Make no mistake, I will not tolerate further treachery."

“This is perhaps the wrong way to go about this Lord Reaver. My father has nothing to apologise about. Phillania was British territory, you have not publicly declared it belonging to you, so in the eyes of the world and the British Empire it still belongs to my father and my people. We do not wish a war, however in our eyes your soldiers attacked and shot at us first of all. I even have a report detailing it. Your ground forces attacked without any hails or approaches, they attacked our men, who were conducting their first field exercise. Would you rather that we allowed our men to continue fighting to the end, in a bloody battle that would have consumed more lives and ultimately led to world war? I think not. Laying waste to the Island with a temporary radioactive dust was the best viable option. The Half life is very short, the island will be habitable again in two years.”

The Prince shuffled in his seat growing more comfortable, after all these negotiations could take some time. “For the attack on Phillania I will tell you now that it was authorised by my father in fact he suggested it, though our current intelligence at the time stated the isle was uninhabited, reclaiming the island would have been a nice boost to national morale, and it would have made my father popular amongst the masses.” Leaning slightly more forward the prince locked eye contact with the Panteran leader.

“Threats lord Reaver get you no where in diplomacy, I am not a cowered to be pushed away like some American dog, nor am I or is my nation weak as those French cowards. Your threats I understand may be backed up with your legions though I will let you know now that my family and my nation has never backed down from a war, even if it is over something as small as principles. The declaration of peace will be made publicly after all it is hard to hide, I have authorization from my father to sign a treaty here and now if you would so desire?”

Clicking his tongue in vexation, Dayne gave a shake of his head,"Do you believe your own propaganda, Prince George? No hails? I myelf have heard the recordings. There were two hails before my Reavers opened fire, two. Whereas your own forces kept their silence, afraid to identify themselves. Perhaps you should inquire as to why your generals and commanders have beel lying to you, hmm? Or perhaps they simply... forgot to inform you of such."

His mouth twisted slightly as he shrugged his heavy shoulders and continued,"As to your reasoning behind this farce, I care not. Your father's popularity means little to me. What does concern me are his future actions and what assurances you may offer me that there will not be a repeat of the past days incidents..."

Shifting slightly on his chair as he went on, the Evenstar waved a hand dismissively,"Documents are all well and good, Prince George, but after the lies your nation has tried to put over on me, I am not sure I should trust you even so far as signing this pledge of peace. Do not get me wrong, here. I do wish for peace, and to simply forget your nation exists... However, as I said, what assuranced do I have that these are simply not more thinly-veiled lies? Put yourself in my place, Sir. Would you be trusting, in my position?"

The young prince looked up at the Panteran head of state. It was now time to secure peace, matters further abroad demanded it.

Sir, I will be truthful. I do not want a war which will ravage our nations into pieces nor do I want millions perhaps billions to die over such a small inconvenience to both our nations. We are both far too large to begin a dual to the death, our nations would cover the world in a layer of blood so thick that even the stars would weep. There is no word I can give you that you will believe as you have already demonstrated your mistrust of us and quite rightly so, I do not trust you, it is the way of the world. But perhaps you may take this from it, I will someday be King of the Empire and I will repay your kindness in turn. My father has not long left in his life, in fact he is already near death with an unfortunate illness inside his brain. Within a year I will be King and then instead of a military conflict which will drench the land in crimson water perhaps we will have a peace and an alliance which will allow both of our nations to flourish.

Tilting his head slightly, the Evenstar held the silence for a long moment. Finally, he rose and descended the steps of the dais to stand in front of the British Prince.

Seated, the size of the man was deceeptive. Standing at his full height the Panteran was almost seven feet tall. On the dais men were forced to crane their necks to peer up at him. When he descended, he still loomed above, grim and terribly as he eyed the Brit.

Finally, though, he bobbed his great head and offered his meaty hand,"Very well then, Prince George. I will sign your treaty and henceforth we will be enemies no longer. But, words on paper mean little. I want your word. Not the word of your father, your Empire or any of your people. I want the solemn pledge of George, Heir to the British throne and all of those other hollow titles...'

"But, be warned. Should you shake my hand and then betray me then I am Honor Bound to scourge your people until I have that hand again. Let all present hear and know it as my solemn vow."

Expectantly, Dayne held out his hand.

The prince rose form his chair and locked hands with the Panteran leader. “Perhaps more good can come out of this incident than wrong. When I become king I will remember the gift of peace the Panteran nation has given to the world. We will meet again Lord Reaver. Be assured of it.”

Locking hands with the Evenstar the prince smiled, and beckoned one of his aides to come closer. Placing the treaty on the table the prince signed it with a provided quill.

”Now all that is required is your signature.” With a slight tilt of his head the prince handed the quill to the Reaver.

Without further discussion, the Evenstar took the quill and scrawled his name. When he placed the quill on the table and raised his eyes, he spoke once more to the Brit,"I hope this truly does herald an era of peace, Prince George. I would hate to kill you."

With a snap of his thick fingers the Reavers that lined the walls converged and began to usher the British delegation from the throne room.

His voice echoing the length of the hall halted the delegation, though,"Perhaps your father's death will be cause for celebration, rather than mourning, eh? He is tainted by the corruption of power and I am not hesitant to say that he is surely lost for honor. Remember that when you take your throne, Prince. Remember that Kings should have Honor above all men. If you take nothing else from our meeting, here, George, take that. Heed my words and perhaps your deeds will reign above those of all of your ancestors."

The look that Dayne flashed at the Brit was finally warm, the grim lines of his face easing into an amused smile. When he seated himself he looked not like the terrible spectre of death that his legend spoke of. He appeared as what he was: A twenty-four year old youth, enjoying, if only for a moment, his station as Lord and master of four-billion souls.