NationStates Jolt Archive

Winchia, Earth

Lady Elwing Oronrá entered the imperial chambers. It was early in the morning and the moon light spilled onto her bed. Upon it lay her husband, the Emperor. She knew that this time would come in her life, but the pain was already growing to great to bare. She knew something was wrong. The Emperor's eyes had lost that sparkle that reflected his personality so well. His face was also growing pale. He would never admit it though, he always claimed his health couldn't be better.

Imortality has its short comings the elf though to herself as she approached the Emperor. Her face showed her concern all too well. As she sat beside him his eyes opened lathargically. He gave a weak smile. His smile, the reason I fell for him. The though brought a tear to here eye.

"Don't cry dear, I have lived long and well. You shall be a great ruler." He then coughed and grasped his chest. His breathing quickened and his pulse raced.

Oronrá's face paled. It was a struggle but she finally got the words out. "Get a doctor! He's dying!" Almost immediatley two dozen doctors flung the door open and rushed in, each carrying his own handbag. They rushed the Lady from the room and slide the enormous oak door shut. Outside the Lady paced back and forth running her hands through her long blond hair, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Inside the door the doctors fiddeled with various tools, taking his pulse, listening to his heartbeat, cheching for hypertension. All the while his cough worsened and his face paled. There was a great concern throughout the room as the pressure grew greater. If the blame for the Emperor's death was to be bestowed upon any of the doctors an execution was an almost a sealed fate.

The hours passed as Elwing Oronrá continued her pacing. She had developed a headache from the stress and was being pushed to the breaking point. It was taking all her self-control not to open the doors and let the heads roll. She was known for her short temper and it was a major factor now. The thoughts were racing through her mind. She though about having to rule the country without her political genius husband by her side, it was an unsettling thought.

Well after dawn the doctors emerged in a fresnzy with the Emperor on a stretcher. He moaned slightly, followed by a cough. Elwing Oronrá broke down, "What did you do? Murderers! All of you." The tears now flowing steadily.

"Calm down my Lady," the doctor bowed. He is situation is concerning but we are just transporting him to a proper hospital for observation and proper care."

"With the average citizens?" She asked, shocked.

"We will see to it he gets a private room. We will also shut down an entire part of the building for you and the Imperial Family."

"Good, I'm coming with him to make sure you don't make him any worse than he already is!" She was on the verge of striking one of the doctors now.

The hospital was in total chaos. Security detail all over, doctors abandoning patients to aid the Emperor. At the foot of his bed Lady Elwing was in histerics over her dying husband. She was soon asked to leave, followed by a stream of curses but she soon complied.

Outside almost ten members of the Imperial family stood anxiously awaiting news. The Lady just shook her head and took a seat. All of the people understood and their heads sunk. It was a terrible day.

Soon a doctor emerged and all the ears pricked up. "Well, he will live for now but not for long. His life is slowly slipping away and there is little we can do."

"What do you mean there is little you can do? You have acces to countless medicines and Largents finest equipment, how can you not cure him? He is the Emperor!"

"He is old and his immune system if failing. His natural time is coming."

All the elves in the room, excluding Elwing Oronrá, was thinking the exact same thing; She never should have married the human. But they all knew it was too late for that. It was time to make plans for a funeral ceremony and a temple in his honor. It would be a grand ceremony, one that history would always remember. The Emperor's name would be remembered for thousands of years.

Two days later

The Emperor was released but doctors were asigned to watch his health constantly. As soon as his condition worsened he would be readmitted to the hospital where he would remain until he was pronounced dead, that time would come all too soon.

It was also by this time that the media had gotten hold of the news and word of his condition was spreading across Earth and throughout the Sol.

Lady Elwing Oronrá sat upon her throne thinking about the future, it was bleak. She glanced about the room at her servants and advisors, all eyes were on her. She knew that the Emperor would die soon and she had to think ahead and make sure that the leaders of friendly nations know her.

She decided that a message be sent to all nations that have had contact with Largent inviting them to a meeting during which she would get to know each delegate, ambassador, or even leader better.


To: Any Nation Wishing to Attend the Meeting

In the Emperor's failing health we must make precautions for the future. it is assumed that within less than a year the Emperor will be dead and Lady Elwing Oronrá will fill his position and become Empress of Largent. This is why we would request your presence here to become aquainted with the Lady of Largent. All accomidations will be taken care of for anyone sent to Largent.

COMM TO: Largent
From the Sebecean Imperial Monarchy
The Patriarch Emperor (Forever and Absolute), sends is best wishes to the failing Emperor and his wife. The Patriarch Emperor also extents an offer to this Emperor: The Gift of Immortality, the same gift that the Emperor has enjoyed and granted for 1,048 years. If your Emperor agrees to this, we will sent our best doctors, to proceed with Gift.

Also, the Grand Sebecean Democratic Imperium wish to send representives to this meeting. Our Represenatives, Emperor Hierarch Furik* and Lord Emperor Hein**, will be sent to the world of the meeting in a Sebecean Command Carrier Entourage, and will stay at the meeting location. We also wish for our 20 ICSF (Imperial Command Special Force***) to acompany each of the Emperors. We will assume as of now that you have accepted these requests, and our Emperors will be underway to the meeting place.

*&**- The Emperors in the Sebecean Imperium, are not absolute rulers, but senior military commanders and goveners.

***- Imperial Command Special Forces are simmiler to the Secret Service and Delta Force/SAS/GSG-9 mixed.

Written in a flowing elven script,

Lady Elwing Oronrá,

You don't know of us but we have heard of your plight. You have our best wishes. We would attend, if it wouldn't be inconvenient for you to meet new nations. It would be myself, King Buccannah of Highport and Princess Ariel of the Deryn and our guards and advisors. Please let me know if this is acceptable,

Queen Lauralin Silverlief
Dragonsreach.

With an hour, the following message was returned:

Lady Elwing Oronrá, Lady of Largent,

We share your pain and concern for the frailty of your husband, the Emperor of Largent. Be sure to know that the hearts and prayers of every citizen under my dominion go with you. While we are unsure of what exactly we can do, be sure that if you find anything with which we may assist, that we will humbly offer you our services.

However, we understand your concern for the future, and will acquiesce to your request. As fellow soveriegn states within the Imperial Confederacy, we of course are reasonably well acquainted with Largent, and have been party to our far share of conferences involving your husband. Therefore, in the interests of maintaining and even strengthening diplomatic ties, we will, of course, accept your invitation. I myself will accept your hospitality for as long as you wish and I can maintain. I place myself in your care, and await your reply...

Emperor Matthew VI,
Emperor of Falastur, of its Dominions, Colonies and Territories, and all other states under my dominion.

[I will have a reply to all of you ICly tonight. For the meantime I am going on a youth group trip and wont be back till later.]

OOC: Just so you know, this RP will lead to the Emperor's death wich will be a closed RP. Anyone who participates in this RP is invited to the next, if they wish to participate.


To: Emperor Matthew VI
We look forward to meeting with you and many other leaders. You hostpitality and warmth is most welcome among me and my people. Strong ties with your nation are something I look forward to maintaining.

~Lady Elwing, Lady of Largent


To: Queen Lauralin Silverlief
Your presence is most acceptable and most welcomed. We look forward to familiarizing ourselfes with you.

~Lady Elwing, Lady of Largent


To: The Patriarch Emperor
I am most pleased to hear about your future presence. As for your offer, immortality is something that the Emperor does not want, he believes that all humans must die at some time and his time is coming. It is sadenning but it is also part of life. However, your offer was most generous and greatly appreciated. We look forward to meeting with you.

~Lady Elwing, Lady of Largent

Lady Oronrá,

We appreciate your acceptance and shall leave at once. My best to you on this difficult occasion.

Lauralin Silverlief
Queen of Dragonsreach

Lauralin sent out the messages to the parties who would participate and waited for them to arrive. She brought most of them herself as it was faster. Once they were gathered they went to the Central Worlds courier service vessel that had been assigned to Dragonsreach.

"Nancia? May we enter?"

"Of course Your Highness", came the reply over the external speakers as the ramp lowered to allow them access.

They entered and Lauralin nodded politely toward Nancia. "Thank you."

"I'm here to serve", she said.

"That does not mean that I cannot be polite", Lauralin said smiling.

'Exactly why I love this assignment', Nancia thought to herself, 'everyone in central worlds treated the courier service like A.I. drones.

Once they were settled she executed a beautiful liftoff, not rattling her passengers in the least. "We'll be going into singularity in twenty seven minutes."

Turquine groaned and closed his eyes, hoping to be asleep before then, but knowing he wouldn't be. Michael, who had left central worlds service after reaching master sergeant was used to this and was already asleep.

After a brief trip through singularity they emerged a few hours outside of Largent and began a general hail.

"This is Nancia Perez y De Gras of central worlds. I'm a courier service ship assigned to the Queen of Dragonsreach. She has invitation to attend a meeting in your nation. Please issue landing instructions and any further instructions or requirements as needed."

She continued the hail once every ten minutes.

The message was received and several men responded. "Greeting diplomaticv vessel. This is the National Imperial Airport of Largent. We have a hanger ready for you once you land. At this point transportation will be ready to take you to the palace for the meeting. Thank you."

The Lady sat on her throne over looking the room that would soon contain delegates and rulers all allies or just fimiliar with Largent. Countless nations were given invitations but only several had responded. She could only hope that the meeting would be a success as the Emperor's life was slipping away fast.

Nancia made the landing as painless as possible and flew slowly into the hanger then landed with delicate grace.

"Thank you, control, I'll inform my passangers." 'Several men responding, nice place', she thought. She cut the engines, leaving them primed but otherwise offline.

"We've arrived", she said over the main cabin speakers, "there's transport waiting to take you to the palace."

Turquine stood up, still a bit unsteady after the singularity travel. "Somebody wake up Michael", he groaned and brook gladly waffled him in the head.

"Rise and shine fly boy, time for guard duty."

They made thier way to the ramp which hit the ground just as they reached the top.

The ship was one of central worlds latest courier space craft but what emerged was an odd contrast.

The first to walk down the ramp was a man in full plate armor with a sword on his right hip and a helm under his arm with a shield on his back. The battle armor had obviously seen much use but still looked strong. It was black with a red dragon, diving, breathing fire emblazond on the chest plate. His hair is iron grey and his face looks as if the skin had melted and run somewhat. Two promenent scars were on the left side of his face. One ran from behind his temple to his chin and the other from behind his left ear to his chin, severing the lower earlobe and forming a rough V. His eyes are a glacial blue and sweeps the interior of the hanger with a warriors eye. To those who could sense it they would feel a great deal of power from this man. The power of a holy knight and something more. A strange contrast to the two woman of the three who followed his own group down the ramp.

To his left was a man in a standard modern style military uniform. He had a PPG in a holster on his right hip. He is bald with grey eyes. He eyes anyone in the hanger closely and survey the layout as he walks down.

To the scarred mans right is a woman with raven black hair to her shoulder blades. She wear a simple looking, though silk, dress and rests one hand on the scarred mans arm as he descends the ramp. To those who are psionically talented her presence can easily be felt.

To the woman's right is a man in a black shirt, black pants and a black cloak. His hair is black as is his beard and mustache. His eyes are dark brown, so dark that they seem almost black as well. He seems to carry no weapons and walks with a light tread.

After they descend a woman walks down the ramp. She is about five and half feet tall with flame red hair that cascades down her back ending only an inch above the ground. She has bright, emerald green eyes and her skin is pale. Like the scarred man she appears to be half elven. The others appear to be human. She's pale and wear a powder blue gown. She carries no weapons. Those who can sense magic would sense it in her and the other woman in the gown to her right. They would also, if they can sense such, know that they are both undead.

The woman to her right has deeper red hair, closer to brown. She is also pale and has hazel eyes. She wears a slightly darker blue gown being only an inch or two taller then the first woman.

The woman to her left tends to catch the eye the most. She wears only a leather halter top and leather shorts with a cloak thrown back over her shoulders. She stands six and half feet tall with muscles that slide easily beneath the skin and stalks like a hunting cat more than walks. She has a bastard sword on each hip and a two-handed sword on her back. Her eyes are blue, her hair closer to orange than red and her skin is a coppery tan. Fine scars can be seen over her exposed flesh.

The Command Carrier Fleet, jumped into orbit, immeadiatlly launching 3 craft, a Valkaryie and two Banshees. The craft then hailed the point of meeting...

To the Forces of Lady of the Largentian People, This is a Sebecean Imperial Vessel transporting the Emperor Hierarch Furik and the Lord Emperor Hein, to a meeting. They fly here with the permission of Patriarch Emperor Furion Miniah, and will fully represent him and the Imperial Sebecean Monarchy.

Our Craft is approaching your city, please lower your defense and we request permission to land

Lady Elwing Oronrá of Largent,

The Queendom of Rastaban sends our deepest regrets to hear of such new about your lord Emperor. Please accept our condolences.

Your ladyship, I to know what it is like to take control of a country and know few people. I and one of my advisors, Rhylan Aleanrahael, shall come as quickly as we can.

My deepest prayers,
Queen Cora Rastaban,
Queen of Rastaban, Head of the First House

[ooc: Alright, I'll RP your arrival to the meeting, however, I'm going to wait about a day before starting, just so everyone I invited has a chance to RP an arrival]

The demilitarized gravship hovered slightly over the ground. It was jet black with the Imperial seal embroided in gold on its port side. As the first delegates and rulers arrived a ramp slide down, diplaying a red carpet for them to enter the ship by.

Minister Schelzie, Minister of Foreign Affairs sat in one of the silk-covered seats, resting. He watched as the ships landed, one by one. He saw one from three seperate nations. The people began unloading and approached the vehicle Schelzie motioned to the driver. They began loading to find an interior, most reagle in appearance. Schelzie smiled. "Welcome, you all are the first to arrive. The meeting will be held tommorow, we will let you all settle in first. If you would be so good as to buckle up we will get this vessel off the ground and we can head into Winchia." He once again motioned to the driver and the engines started. Harnessing the power of antimatter the ship was soon a good hundred feet from the ground.

The ship continued south until it began to slowly decend to what would have appeared to look like a barren patch of land. As the massive heap of metal landed dust swirrel and surrounded the vehicle. When it cleared the passengers would have been met with an unusual sight. Before them a massive entrance had materialized. Withing the entrance was an equally massive tunnel. The ship continued on. "Ladies and gentlemen," Schelzie began, "You have the rare privelidge of entering the udnerground portion of Winchia. It is one of the most heavily defended places in the entire solar system. This is where the Imperial family resides. You also have the rare privelidge of seeing them face to face. Most Largentians never even are able to see pictures of them. This is truely a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

By the time he stopped so had the ship. It was deep underground in what seemed to be a cave that stretched up for miles. All around them military personel and weapons were in place. They soon found that they were at the foot of a massive palace, the Imperial Palace. "Ladies and gentlemen, you will be residing in the gest wing of the imperial palace. You may choose any room you wish. I will be calling upon you tommorow afternoon so that the meeting and afterwards, the social time may commence. Have a nice rest." With that the man guided them to the appropriate wing and turned and left.

Official Letter to the Government of Largent

At this time, due to several situations requiring the presence of all senior diplomatic and military personnel within the Commonwealth, we are only able to dispatch Second Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs Michael Carson.

Ministry of Foreign Affairs

ooc: please don't hate me just because I'm new... :)

ic:
Official Communique from the Royal House of Illyriae
TO: Lady Elwing, Lady of Largent
FROM: Lord Vincent Somarivaaren, Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Illyriae


Dear Lady,

I am deeply saddened to hear of your husband's poor condition. Indeed, it appears to me that the age of the great monarchs is nearing its end.

My father, the late King Vincent I, came to your land before his coronation and studied with your husband at university, so though I have never met him I have the utmost respect for your husband, as did my father. I would be honored if you would accept my offer to attend your proposed meeting. If you would allow the pleasure of our meeting, I see a bright future for our two lands.


Your ally always,
Vincent, Lord of Somarivaaren
Crown Prince of Illyriae

Alright, if you requested to come to the meeting just post your arrival to it, then we will start it.

ooc: now... the fun part!

ic:
The day of the Illyrian delegation's arrival was bleak at best. A heavy rain drenched the capital of Largent, and a never-ending blanket of black clouds blocked out the sun.

A discreet black limousine with Illyrian license plates drove slowly through the gates of the palace of Largent and made its way up the winding drive. As it rolled to a stop before the palace doors, three people stepped out under black umbrellas, casting a shadow of air in the rain. The center of the three was Vincent, the twenty-two year old Crown Prince; to his left was his wife, twenty-four year old Milena; and to his right was Vladimir Kirhallyt, the aging Illyrian ambassador to Largent.

As they came to the palace's grand doors they closed their umbrellas, which were taken by a palace attendant. The prince and the ambassador wore the diplomatic uniform of the highest officers of Illyriae: fine custom suits, all black except for the white necktie, adorned only with small Illyrian flag pins on one lapel. The princess was elegant as always in her formal black dress.

They were led in silence, save for the sound of the rain, through the ornately appointed but dimly lit palace to the high-ceilinged room in which the stoic Lady Elwing stood at a window, gazing out into the rain as if looking for some sort of sign.

"Your highness," the old ambassador said, his modest voice cutting through the silence like thunder. "It is a great honor to be here with you today. May I present the Crown Prince and Princess of Illyriae, Vincent and Milena."

[OOC: Just rping right into Largent’s post. :)]

Queen Cora and her advisor, Rhylan Aleanrahael, arrived soon after those from Dragonsreach did. Their ship was modest and nothing all that fancy. Just powerful enough to get from point A to point B, and sometimes point C too. The only thing to decorate the ship was gold dragon and a phoenix twining necks, indicating that the Queen of Rastaban was within.

Only two people left the ship. A short, pretty woman and tall handsome man.

The Queen of Rastaban was a short woman of about five feet and four inches. She had long, thick, dark brown hair that had been swept up in a conservative but fashionable hairstyle. Her large, expressive dark brown eyes took in her surroundings. She saw the group from Dragonreach, and wasn't sure which one was the queen (for she had never met her) gave a polite nod to all of them.

The man that followed behind Cora made it painfully obvious that she was short, compared to his six foot and a half frame. He had pierce green eyes and long, straight black hair, half of which was pulled back into a small ponytail, the rest was left free. His most notable feature though was his pair of pointed ears, which identified him as an elf. He was Rhylan Aleanrahael, an advisor to the queen that dealt mainly with non-human relations. It was just ironic that he was an elf himself, and he was the only advisor of the queen's available to make the trip. Rhylan keep an expressionless face, one that didn’t allow anyone to read his thoughts or emotions.

Cora and Rhylan bored the ship in which a very important man was. She supposed he was an equivalent to an advisor in Rastaban, for he held himself with importance.

The demilitarized gravship hovered slightly over the ground. It was jet black with the Imperial seal embroidered in gold on its port side. As the first delegates and rulers arrived a ramp slide down, displaying a red carpet for them to enter the ship by.

Minister Schelzie, Minister of Foreign Affairs sat in one of the silk-covered seats, resting. He watched as the ships landed, one by one. He saw one from three separate nations. The people began unloading and approached the vehicle Schelzie motioned to the driver. They began loading to find an interior, most regaled in appearance. Schelzie smiled. "Welcome, you all are the first to arrive. The meeting will be held tomorrow, we will let you all settle in first. If you would be so good as to buckle up we will get this vessel off the ground and we can head into Winchia." He once again motioned to the driver and the engines started. Harnessing the power of antimatter the ship was soon a good hundred feet from the ground.

The ship continued south until it began to slowly descend to what would have appeared to look like a barren patch of land. As the massive heap of metal landed dust swirled and surrounded the vehicle. When it cleared the passengers would have been met with an unusual sight. Before them a massive entrance had materialized. Withing the entrance was an equally massive tunnel. The ship continued on. "Ladies and gentlemen," Schelzie began, "You have the rare privilege of entering the underground portion of Winchia. It is one of the most heavily defended places in the entire solar system. This is where the Imperial family resides. You also have the rare privilege of seeing them face-to-face. Most Largentians never even are able to see pictures of them. This is truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

By the time he stopped so had the ship. It was deep underground in what seemed to be a cave that stretched up for miles. All around them military personnel and weapons were in place. They soon found that they were at the foot of a massive palace, the Imperial Palace. "Ladies and gentlemen, you will be residing in the guest wing of the imperial palace. You may choose any room you wish. I will be calling upon you tomorrow afternoon so that the meeting and afterwards, the social time may commence. Have a nice rest." With that the man guided them to the appropriate wing and turned and left.

The queen took in these new lavish surroundings. She had never seen a palace underground, nor had she heard of such a thing. Rhylan eyed the military personnel and weapons warily. Though he was officially an advisor to the queen, he also acted as a bodyguard, as did all of the queen’s advisors. That was why the queen never traveled with a bodyguard, not because she didn’t need them but because one or two were always with her “disguised” as an advisor.

Once arriving at the guest wing, Cora led the way, Rhylan but a few steps behind her. She stopped at a door. “Well, this looks like a good place to stop,” she said, standing outside a door.

“Yes, it does, Majesty. I will make sure you things are sent here,” Rhylan replied, and then looked at the door across from the Cora’s room. “I will be staying there, my Queen.” She nodded, and entered her room to prepare for tomorrow.

Royal Airport at Emperor’s Field
Imperium, Commonwealth Republic of New Britain

Michael Carson stood on the tarmac, waiting for his aircraft to taxi into the proper spot. His mission was to meet the future leader of the nation of Largent, a fellow member of the Imperial Confederacy, in order to better prepare the Prime Minister for future government relations. Ordinarily, Ivan – the Minister of Foreign Affairs – would handle this, or even his trusted deputy; however, the deteriorating situation in Euroslavia made the dispatch of high-level officials an impossibility for Ivan and his team were requisite for maintaining the all-too-fragile peace between the Commonwealth and Intelligent Neighbors.

The aircraft operated in the middle-atmosphere powered by a ramjet and turbofan combination. Designed for high-speed and short flight times, the aircraft was among one of a small fleet designated for missions where timing was critical. Carson strapped himself in tight, for the acceleration would continue beyond that of a normal commercial air transport, and could be for some individuals considered uncomfortable. Indeed, the aircraft slowly gained momentum and found itself rising into the atmosphere at a great clip, until the turbofans cut out and the ramjet powered up. Soon, the aircraft was operating in the high atmosphere where, due to less air resistance, the air frame was able to handle speeds up to Mach 4.

In a short amount of time, the aircraft began nearing Largentian airspace, and per his orders, Carson was awaken from his nap – as he was sure that meetings would eat up most of his time. A brief review of the documents before him indicated that he would be meeting with the “Lady of Largent.” He hoped that she would understand the discrepancy in their social and political status given the political and military situation in the Commonwealth.

In the cockpit, the pilot and co-pilot prepared the aircraft for landing, initiating landing procedure protocol with the Largentian air traffic controller. As the aircraft descended, the ramjet motor cut out and propulsion was switched to the turbofan while the aircraft descended to the acceptable landing speed indicated by the Largentian controllers. Upon landing, the aircraft received the taxi and maneuvered into the hangar space reserved for the small aircraft. Inside, Michael Carson nervously assorted his files and placed them in his briefcase. He definitely felt a touch out of place.

As the door opened, a small man in his late twenties emerged. He ran one of his smooth and supple hands through the side of his finely kept black hair, which rose in peaks at the front through the sparse use of hair styling products. At his side, next to his black three-piece suit were a small briefcase and a bundle of wild exotic flowers, native to the tribal islands in the Commonwealth. The man’s face exuded nothing but calm and serenity, but inside Carson felt in awe of the regal and majestic presence of royal aircraft from so many nations. At any rate, when he got home, his friends would undoubtedly refuse to believe what was sure to be a fantastical tale.

Although he had missed the first flight to the Imperial Palace, the air traffic controllers had performed quite superbly, at least Carson thought so, and they had managed to contact the Largentian government in order to bring them to the Imperial Palace. As the ship lifted off, bringing Carson and his small entourage of aides to their temporary residence, he handed off the flowers to the dispatched official. “These are for the Lady of Largent. There is an ancient Azazian custom of preparing a large and massive celebration for the passing of a chieftain, accompanying the celebration is a presentation of flowers to the widow. In keeping with the tradition of my country’s native peoples, we offer these flowers as a condolence to Her Majesty for the grief she must surely be experiencing.”

They made thier way down the hallway, to the first available rooms.

"Micheal and I will take the first on the right", the scarred man said. "Marcus, you and Ariel take the room across from us. Laura, you, Ferrannifer and Brook will take the room next to my own and Michaels."

The raven haired woman and the bearded man made from the room on the left while the other three women made for the next room on the right. The scarred man and the bald man entered the first room on the right.

All of them surveyed the opulent rooms.

"Now this is why I like security detail", the bald man said happily.

The scarred man rolled his eyes, "You take the bed, I'll take the floor."

Time to mingle and become aquainted before we sit down to talk.

The Lady checked the time. She had been with the Emperor all night. It was time to prepare for the meeting. She got up and headed for the ball room where there would be breakfast and time to meet each other before they all got together and discussed politics. She made her way down the hallway to the mahogany door in which the words Ball Room were carved. She pushed them open with some effort. Behind the doors waiters and servants were setting up and putting on the finishing touches.

As she stepped into the room the all stopped what they were doing and took a knee and put their had over their heart. She gave a smile out of courtesy. It was early and the guests wouldn't arrive for a few more moments and they were still preparing the entrance for a proper announcement depending on the guest's status. She walked across the enormous room, which took quite a few moments based on the sheer size of the room. It was covered with gold, art, and everything shuch a grand room should have. All along the sides were statues of past Emperors, they were now preparing a depiction of her which would be presented on the day of her husband's death.

Soon, she found her table where leaders would sit. The seating arrangment was based on status, only to prevent aquward moments. Her seat was average sized but with a huge back covered in carvings. It was bad taste but tradition was tradition. She took her seat quitely and waited.

Ferrannifer had Lauralin ready in a sequined dark blue gown despite the queens grumbling about not wanting to wear the outfit anymore than she wanted to wear armor. Her long, flame red hair was laced with diamond dust strands that made her it sparkle alluringly. When the Queen was ready Ferrannifer turned toward Brook.

"Like hell", the six and half foot tigrish muscled barbarian woman said.

Ferrannifer sighed and straightened her own light green gown.

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Ariel and Marcus stood ready in their room. She was dressed in a simple dress that was a cream color with beads. Marcus was dressed in his typical black.

"I'll see to the king", she said suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"He's beind difficult again", she replied.

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"Well I have to wear this monkey suit", Michael was saying.

"Yes you do", the king rumbled in his deep resonent baratone, his voice more accustomed to shouting orders on the battlefield than having a normal conversation.

"They're going to expect you to look your best."

The door opened and Marcus stepped aside.

"Alright", Ariel said as she walked in, "we need to get you ready."

"I don't see the point of this", the king told her.

"It's a point of honor and respect toward another noble", she replied.

Turquine just liked at her a moment and then sighed and picked up the suit. Honor and nobility were two things the holy knight understood all to well. He went into the next room and changed while the others waited.

"Should of thought of that", Michael mumbled.

"That's why I'm the advisor", she said.

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"So what now?", Lauralin asked.

"We wait", Ferrannifer told her, "they should send a servant to bring us to our appropriate destination at the appointed time.

Seating arrangements aren't important. Just RP everyone at the same table.

The servant knelt with all the others and one by one they were sent based on the seating arrangements. The first one was sent to Ferrannifer's room. It was a long run and he finally arrived at the door. He knocked at waited for it to be answered. He was not to speak just wait for the door to open and lead the inhabitants to the ballroom. The same task was repeated with all delegations from DragonsReach.

Once all the servants had been sent the delegations were gathered outside the ballroom. Soon a dozen trumpets sounded and they began announcing arrivals. After nearly ten minutes everyone was seated and Lady Elwing made a toast to the long lasting of all nations who had someone at the meeting.

After her speech a parade of chefs marched out the courses. First a delicious selection of appetizers followed by three more courses considered the main part of the meal, after which deserts and fruits were eaten. All the while each attendent drank their weight in whine and champagne.

Once the meal was over Elwing turned to Michael Carson from Azazia. A nation that knew her and was closly related with Largent. "So, it has been a while since of talked to anyone from the Imperium. What is new? How is the Imperial Confederacy constitution coming? That will be one document I will be looking forward to familiarizing myself with."

A man in casual suit came walking in the doors, spotted the new leader of Largent and like he had been pushed by an invisible hand, dropped to his knees and touched his head to the ground, saying while still on the ground "My name is Arthas Scipius, embassador from the Armed Republic of Arthaga Nova. The Prime Minister sends, along with me, his deepest sympathy to you, your highness, and the late Emperor will be honored at the next meeting of the republic. We look forward to expand our relations with your great empire. I hope there is room for me here, since we came unannounced, communications breakdown. It is however only me, and I can take care of my own room and board if there is any issues. The only importance is keeping your strong empire just that in spite of these tragic events."

Lauralin and Ferrannifer ate almost nothing, only tasting things here and there and refusing drinks. Brook stood behind them, watching over the table, taking only water to drink.

The king ate heartily, commenting on the fine food and drink while Michael ate sparingly and stuck to water to wash it down with.

Marcus and Ariel ate slowly and with practiced elegance. The only problem occuring near the beginning of the meal as Marcus placed Ariel's hands around the table in front of her, guiding her hands over the plates, glasses and silverware so she would know where they were.

As the day broke, Carson’s dreams of fine estate living on the picturesque tropical islands of the Commonwealth dissipated in much more inferior and pimple-cratered face of his junior aides. Carson had gone to sleep after a brief review of the developments back home, which still were necessary reading despite his new assignment. Seeing that nothing had significantly changed, he devoted his attention to the more important details of the meeting set to happen later that day – his attire.

With his portfolio he had brought along several three-piece suits, which were the latest fad in Commonwealth fashion. He selected a fine dark grey silk outfit, with a matching solid black tie. As his aides prepared his folders and papers, with statements of policy in case they were needed by the others, he drew a glass of water. A splendid breakfast was surely being prepared, however, Carson preferred light breakfasts when he first woke. His aides had thus prepared a small cup of fruits that they had brought in with his luggage. As he sat reviewing his notes, he enjoyed the strawberries and raspberries which were his favourites. As he finished them up, he closed the portfolio waiting to be summoned; as if on cue there was a rap on the door.

Carson merely nodded to his aides as he arose, “very punctual, very respectable.”

The breakfast was in fact as splendid as Carson had imagined and prepared himself. He found the fruits delectable, even better than the refrigerated ones he had brought. Soon after, he found himself talking with Lady Elwing herself, a surprise he had not quite expected so soon into the meeting. “Ahh, the Imperial Confederacy. Our own political scientists and philosophers are struggling to deal with how much sovereignty each empire should be forced to relinquish. Too little, the Imperial Confederacy becomes nothing but an impotent gathering of old men… if you’ll excuse me for being so blunt. However, too much authority will create a federation of empires – which in and of itself would be quite fearsome, although detrimental to the member empires. And that is something my government is very cautious to support. There have been several drafts prepared, however, none have met Prime Minister Tetley’s needs and we continue to revise and edit these documents. I am sure, however, that I should be able to return to this meeting in a short while with a current working copy.”

Carson thought for a second, and then decided to add one final observation. “It is interesting, Your Majesty, that you bring this subject up as some in my government are contemplating removing ourselves from this body. I am not sure how familiar you are with the Confederacy; however, as of late there has been little activity at all on the international stage. To that end, perhaps our two nations could attempt some sort of revival. Currently, my government is involved in a… foreign nation’s civil war. Wars being bad for economies in the long-term, we are already trying to secure economic agreements for the post-war period. Consequently, we are seeking for a strong economic relationship between members of the Imperial Confederacy, perhaps, when things here in your country settle down, we can begin discussing such relationships. But if you’d like to meet the rest of your guests, I’ll return to my room and get a copy of the constitution.”

Cora wore nothing lavish. She didn't like to look like a walking billboard for designers, but did admire the woman with the red hair's dark blue gown. Judging by her seating position, she must be a queen. If Cora's memory served her right, the Queen of Dragonsreach.

The food was wonderful, but the Queen of Rastaban restrained herself. She didn't want to look like a pig eating all the food in sight, but didn't want to looked starved or that she didn't like the food.

Rhylan on the other hand looked dashing in the suit-slash-tux he was wearing. His black hair was neatly pulled back into a pony tail now, his eyes ever still that piercing green that seemed they could see straight through someone into their soul or inner thoughts. His expression was cool and still unchanged from the night before. He appeared to be eating very little, but in fact he had been quietly wolfing down all the food that was laid before him and more.

Cora was about to ask Lady Ewing's how she was holding up when the soon to be empress turned to the Azazian man, Michael Carson.

She listened to the words exchanged and went through her mind for the Imperial Confederacy, but only came up with little information. The queen made a mental note to ask Rhylan, or call up Tanek, and ask about it later when she got a chance.

((OOC: Please don't be alarmed if a "Rastaban" [rather than "Rastabann"] account starts RPing here. I just recently restored it, and is now my main account/nation.))

Sorry for this but I'm going away on a school trip for a week. You all feel free to RP but I won't be able to. If anyone wants they may advace the plot or just have fun RPing dinner. Either way, I'll see you all on Saturday.

OOC: Sorry, only just got round to doing this...

IC: It was almost half an hour after he had been called before Emperor Matthew made his way into the dining room, and seeing the great doors opened before him, revealing a great hall of dining dignitaries and statesmen, already engrossed in delectable food and conversation. Waiting to be announced, Matthew's cheeks redened a little as he realised quite how late he was, before advancing towards his position at the table, a small stream of Largentian and Falasturian servants in his wake, the 19th Century gold and white attire of the Falasturians in stark contrast to the Largentians, while at the same time appearing to fit in with the other peoples around the room, all dressed in various elegant costume. The Emperor himself, adorning his finest white suit with various brooches for his office covering much of his breast, and grand ermine cloak trailing behind him, fitted well in the scene. His father, abdicated Emperor and now well-versed aide and dignitary, took a seat next to him, as he had done many times before, calling for pastries to be brought to the pair of them, and the other top-level members of the Falasturian Delegation permitted to eat at the table. He had never thought about it before, but suddenly Matthew realised that this would be one of the last times he would sit next to his father at a diplomatic occasion. His father had promised upon his abdication to attend to his eldest son as his closest and highest subordinate for as long as the Emperor was still a minor - Matthew's 18th birthday was barely a month away now, he had grown used to seeing his father at his side, hearing his voice in the earpiece. It would be strange, almost sad, not to be so close afterwards, but times moved on.

His plate reaching him, the Emperor toasted to the health of the Emperor of Largent with his staff before tucking into his breakfast.

ooc: I know that I have only struk up a conversation with two people. I just want you all to know that you haven't been forgotten. I'll get around to all of you.

Elwing nodded then smiled to herself. "A gathering of old men? Surely I'm not an old man. However, fear is the worlds greatest defense. I'm not so sure it would be detrimental to the nations in the confederacy. It would just provide protection through intimedation wich is much better than through violence but don't bother yourself and leave to go get a copy. That can be taken care of later.

"However I'm not surprised that you are disapointed with the inactivity. It has even gotten to the point that the founder of our confederacy hasn't even sent a delegate to this meeting. A revival will be atop my list of things to do. I'll make sure to keep in touch. However, Emperor Matthew," she turns to the man that had only recently arrived, "I believe that you are also a member of this congederacy. I am interested in your views."

Matthew thought for a few seconds before responding. He didn't need to think about it much, the thought had been in his mind several times in the last few months.

"I definitely think there should be some initiative to re-awaken the Imperial Confederacy. For too long has it been allowed to slip into obscurity where once it was a powerful force. It was once a thriving forum for member nations to debate and ensure mutual protection. Now it has faded to nothingness. I would, naturally, support any move to restore it to its pride of place."

Satisfied, Matthew sat back in his chair. It wasn't one of his best answers, but it got the point across. He then turned to looks at Lady Elwing, judging her response to his answer, and the way she handled herself in the conversation. She was definitely an experienced stateswoman...but how would she handle administration of a country?

She leaned back and listened to the response. It was interesting how her guest had described the confederacy as thriving, it wasn't the exact wording she would have chosen but it was close enough. "Yes, the confederacy needs a kick in the rear. The only problem I see with it is that once we regain activity where do we go from there. It seems that the founding nations failed to look to the future. The confederacy will again slip into obscurity if we do not strengthen it. Nations won't find any security in it, it will have no purpose. We need goals that we can activly and collectively work towards. Then again, I could be wrong. I suppose its up the political scientists in Azazia. However, this isn't a topic we should dwell on. I'll schedual a meeting later when we can discuss this more thoroughly."

The Lady then politely removed herself from the conversation leaving the two others to continue the discussion if they wished. She then turned to the Illyrian delegate, Cora, Arthas Scipius, and the King of DragonsReach. She smiles and says, "Well I'm afraid I don't know you or your nations. So, since I have no basis for a conversation with you, why don't you tell me a little about your nations and their history."

In the Imperial Chambers

He was left alone. All of the security guards were being called up to protect the meeting with the Lady. All of a sudden the Emperor began having a coughing fit. His muscles tensed and the life began leaving him. It was the end, it was only a matter of time.

Soon the darkness closed in on him. His eyes rolled back and he went unconcious. He lay still in his bed beneath the palace. He lay there alone waiting to be found. Unfortunately he would not be found until the days end. It was a terrible day, the emperor had died. A shadow had been cast across Largent.

"Well", Turquine began, "I'm a simple soldier, I think I'll leave our history to my daughter who is much more an acedemcian than I. But I can tell you..."

The blind raven haired woman, Ariel, Princess of the Deryn, got up from her seat and led by the black dressed man, Count Marcus Cole, she moved up next to the king and whisper something into his ear. She then resumed her seat, never once had her expression changed.

Turquine's faced showed pain at the whispered words and then looked back to the Lady of Largent, his voice low. "My Lady, I regret to inform you that your Emporer has passed beyond the veil."

OOC: I'll give the others another day to respond before I just move on without their replies.

((OOC: Whoops, sorry, I forgot.))

"Well, Arthaga Nova is a strong business nation with a gusto for the good ol' army, to be very blunt. We have been deciding to move to a more international position, and we thought we could maybe form a strong alliance. And now, out of respect of your husband, may he live on in history as a strong and reknown leader, we wish to offer any aid we can." Arthas said, taking a seat at the table and putting as much diplomatic aura into it.

ooc: don't have the time to respond just yet, not likely within the day... however, for those members of the Imperial Confederacy, the forum has another post concerning the expansion of the draft charter. If you want, since I likely won't be able to post before you, Largent, you could RP my character delivering the draft of the new sections... then when I get time he could answer questions concerning... well whatever concerns you may or may not have. In time, though I will post an official statement and condolances et cetera. Just very very busy with school.

ooc: DragonsReach, the news of the death will be revealed in the RP that follows this one. Besides, I'd think that we would know before you did. So I'm going to have to ignore that comment.

The Lady smiled. "Ah, being blunt is very welcome here. The "good 'ol army" has also found its way to the top of our priority list as well. As for your trip to the international scene, may it go smoothly and fruitfully. We would be very happy to form an alliance with you, save that you don't get mixed in with the wrong crowd. It tempts many.

"As for all visitors from DragonsReach I am still anxious to learn more of your nation. I must also ask why you attended this meeting. Is there any goals you had for it or was it merely that you can never have too many friends?" She turns to Turquine for an answer.

"Ah, I can assure you your majesty, that we will not tarnish your nation's reputation by associating with the poisons of this world." Arthas said with a smile, making himself some tea, the first of anything he had reached for on the table.

(OOC - I mentioned his passing because of Ariel. She's among the most powerful of psionicists in a nation of psionicists. It's very feasable for her to sense his passing. If it would ruin the timeline of the thread then I'll just assume that she sensed it but assumed that steps were already being taken to deal with the situation rather than say something. Either way is fine with me, just let me know.)

ooc: Concerning the psychich vision thing, I'll agree to you saying it but there wont be any formal response to it for a little bit. As for the rest of you, I expect the RP to end within the next few posts. I'll get a link up so you all can find the sequel.


The Lady smiles. "Well at least you wont become another one of the small nations awed by the appearent power of dictaorships."

She then turned to Turquine and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, is that so." she paused for a moment staring right into his eyes. She finally sighed and called upon a servant. She whispered in his ear and he ran off. She folded her hands not sure how to react. It was a treacherous time indeed.

As Ariel returned to her seat, assisted by Marcus, Lauralin sat looking down at the table. She had been prepared to give a brief history on Highport, Dragonsreach and the surrounding areas including what might be available for trade agreements and had intended to bargain for mutual peace and assistance, if not protection pacts. Now she wasn't sure what to say. Informal meals were a good place to plant seeds with discussions, hopefully, to follow, but in light of the present situation she wasn't sure if the time was appropriate.

(OOC - Central Worlds is me by the way. Lately, for some reason, the forum has been logging me in as Central even though I log into nationstates as Dragonsreach.)

Well this has fizzled out and reached a semi-satisfying ending. I'll inform you when the main RP starts.