NationStates Jolt Archive

The duchess Thilea of Gorgorad hurried down the green marble hallway. The voices of the almost three hundred people working on the preparation of the inauguration ball reverberated through the palace. She still had troubles finding herself within the palace -after all, she just arrived a week ago. But she already had to worry about hundreds of servants, and perfectionist as she was, every one of them would have to pass before her judging eye.
She could not complain, however -she liked that kind of life, directing and ordering everyone around. And this ball would be the first test for her qualities, as lord Mordenkainen himself had requested her and her husband to host the ball that would celebrate the opening of the Omeldor-1. Many guests, of many kinds, were expected to arrive, and everything would have to be perfect. The food, the music, the service, the decoration, the rooms, everything. And she had to oversee it all.
The ball would occur the first day. Then the guests would stay at the palace for four more days, with tours through the world station and parties every night. But it was the first night when everything would have to function as a swiss clock, since the main impression would come from it. Thilea called it the first night, even though there was no day or night to speak of, only artificial light effects. She would have to get used to that, but later. First, the party.

She entered the dancing hall. The large mirrors surrounded by golden arcs hanged from the tall walls, below a roof covered by delicious frescos depicting various events of the Federation's history -the Fall of the High Tower, the Eleven Days of Mourning, the Eternal Slumber, and the more recent Return of the Forefathers-, all made by the most gifted hands of the nation. Massive spider candelabra of gold and crystal illuminated the vast hall, and fat, carefully carved columns of dark ebon rose proudly on the corners of the hall. The perfectly polished parquet shone with the bright light of the candelabra, devoid of any stain of scratch. And they were made of real wood brought from the forests of Taurenor, not that artificial synthwood common in many homes of the Federation. Far from home, but not from luxuries, as Thilea said.
The orchestra tuned its instruments, strings, percussions, winds, played by old men dressed in black fracs, sitting in a large stage at the bottom of the hall. A gentle breeze -not natural, but refreshing still- blew from the emerald green gardens that surrounded the palace into the hall, through the wide open windows. Delicate lights hanged from the verdant trees all around the garden, and among the darkness of the artificial night the dim lights from the dome's edge could be seen. A bright star -the Sun- shone high above the dome, close to another, less colourful one -Pluto. Short lived points of light crossed the vaulted sky, effects from the close asteroid field of the Kuiper Belt. Yes, an interesting place for an interesting celebration.

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//OOC: Now, this party is going to take place in the Omeldor-1, a planetoid-sized space station at the edge of the solar system (main thread for the Omeldor-1: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=402513 // NSwiki entry: http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Omeldor-1)
Even though some nations will receive invitations, this is an open RP, meaning that anyone interested can come to the party. Keep in mind, however, that no hostile, dangerous or otherwise conflictive attitudes or actions will be tolerated (so no blowing off the dome's roof). Personal guards are allowed, but will be monitored by the Omeldor-1's own security forces. The party is expected to last four days. A schedule of all the events will be published soon.

The Tarran Transmission sent to Omeldor.

The Ardseanaad of Cairn Tarra send their warmest congratulations on this most momentous achievement. The Tarran people were most honored to be counted in the number of the design of the projects gravity systems.
The honor of attending the Inaugural festival for the new star in the Sisgardian sky has been gratefully accepted by the seanaadóirine most honorable:

Teo Holtzmann-Wisewood – Speaker for the high sciences and for matters of foreign affairs, grand architect of the trees and most honorable judge of change.
Ebrihon Silver – Speaker for the matters of engineering and design. student of the studies of Cairn na lea.
Somn Waldorf-Treeborn – Elected speaker for the majority of change. Adjutant of the for the seanaadfolúntas.

These our most honorable representatives will arrive at the appointed time aboard the mómhar soitheach Stormcaller. The Council is certain that they look forward to this event with much excitement.

Honor be with you all.


*tag*

Katsumi sighed as she walked down the corridors inside the dome. For the moment, she preferred being alone, and the rest of her (tiny) group was seemingly busy elsewhere, too, be it on the 'planet' itself or the ship(s).

"Well, nice enough..." She told herself, but worries back at earth and a variety of other factors worked as being 'annoying' just about as often as she thought about them.

Well, perhaps the ceremonies would help her forgetting about the problems, at least for a while, but then... Well, she would see. Of course, she did have her doubts regarding the inauguration, seeing as she knew the Technocratic Rebublics. And she did remember the WTE conference, even though she hadn't been present herself.

Well, could be amusing...

Pilias Simber scrolled through the reports coming in on the nodelink. Excellent. It looked as though all things needing his immediate attention had been taken care of, he sent a message to the others accompanying him, Teres Simber, CEO of Pilon People's Corporation (PPC) and Genesis Simber, CEO of Genesis Corp, the biggest rival to PPC. It had gotten to the point now where one could no longer invite one on a diplomatic mission without taking the other, the corporate wars between them were already becoming violent.
It would be a tense time for the Pilonese Representatives, as was befitting the Pilonese internal situation in general.

*Tag*

Arcturus awaited in the arriving hall of the Hedothion moon. The hall had been specially adorned to be as welcoming as possible for the delegations soon to arrive. Some would say excessively adorned, but yes, he could say that it was welcoming. Next to him stood a pair of assistants that did everything he ordered them to do. He hated them, always lingering like an immovable pest, with their "What do you wish, sir" and "We are here to serve, sir". But he had to admit that they were good at it. Bred for that they had been, he always thought to himself. ServClones, a brand new line of 'clones produced to help in any way possible. They did not have a good taste for decoration, but that is what he was hired for, decorations.

A host of important figures from the Federation occupied the room, all dressed in characteristic long flowing robes of dark colours. They talked loudly about various aspects of the world station. Arcturus didn't like them much either, all of them hyenas waiting for some left over of power to chew on. Their kin had emerged after the return of the wizards, a false nobility that won themselves a name thanks to their basic manipulation of the magical arts.

Soon there would be many more figures, from many different nations, some of them directly invited, some others expected to arrive on their own. This would be an open celebration, and thus its dimensions, as the Omeldor, were going to be huge.

Karak's shuttle slowly began to make its way out of stardock. He was of the Chetok tribe, one of the few that maintained the tribal distinctions. His skin was a rich gray, not the pasty shade that was more common among half-orcs. His hair was different, too, carrying the dark red distinct to his tribe. His uniform was standard to a Muktari delegate: Light gray leather with a doubled trim of black and red. His bronze badge, signifying his rank as general, was pinned over his heart.
As the shuttle, which looked like a handax with an engine strapped to the butt of the handle, pulled out of the dock, Karak looked out his window at the world below. He was quickly able to make out where Muktar was, smiling as he saw it was still as serene as always. And no less free than it has been for millenia. Than we have been.
"General, please buckle up. We will be jumping once we leave the gravity field."
Karak nodded at his aid as he buckled into his seat. Grasping the controls, he grinned to himself. Maybe Akan was right. Maybe I do need to get out more.
The stars ahead became a web of light, and the shuttle was off to the Omeldor-1.

A sleek black craft, looking like your run-off-the-mill flying saucer, approached Omeldor-1. Really, it was no run-off-the-mill flying saucer at all. Rather, it was a luxury copy of the same SSUV vessels – combination harvesters, cargo haulers, and family homes with engines on them – that were the Allanean key to the riches of soul. The SSUV’s were a deeply Allanean method of space exploration, and Jones Ripley viewed it as highly symbol that today, when he approached Omeldor-1 as the United States ambassador to the craftworld, he’d be using one.

“I wonder if the food will be good” – thought Jones as the ship finally docked.

The kitchens were bursting with activity by when the Countess walked into them. Dozens of cooks where supervised by ten chefs, formed in the best culinary academies of the Federation. Plates filled with fish, seafood and meat of all kind, adorned with rare flowers and leaves, travelled from one point to another, over hastily cooks that ran through the saturated kitchen.

Thilea walked close to one of the chefs, who was carefully tasting one of the soups "How is everything, Menlor? The guests will be arriving soon, and no detail can be left out"

The chef smiled, placing down the spoon "Perfect, my dear Countess. The finest meals will be served in this most memorable occasion, selected all by me in person. All of them brought from the fatherland. And the wines" He closed his eyes "Oh, the wines. Elixirs brought from the greatest houses of Sisgardia, grown in the some of the best terroirs of the system. The guests will be delighted"

The shuttle soon came out of the jump, with the station directly ahead. Karak whistled as he got a good look, clearly impressed. "I can already tell this party will be an event to remember."
Flipping on the comm, he hailed the station. "Omeldor-1, this is Muktari Representative Shuttle Garnek, requesting permission to dock."

A mammoth version of Madahajara's classic banta-rather like a giant levitating plate-neared Omeldor-1. Mildia was rather excited at the thought of a ball. Being the future ruler of Madahajara, she was not permitted to go to the balls at home for fear of being kidnapped or hurt. She hoped her dress was fancy enough-it was a new one.

Hedothion,
Omeldor-1.

Slowly the frigate Fëaráto pulled up to the battlemoon of Omeldor-1, it's shape much resembling an eagle in flight and it's movement was just as graceful. It's sleek hull seeming to reflect any light and not. Gently it moved closer to Hedothion and carefully docked with it.
Taurevanimë, the queen of Taurenor, walked out onto the artificial moon with a radiant smile on her face. Her long blonde hair flowing down her back in waves, a beautiful long sleeved dress of a dark blue gracing her body. She was well over six feet tall and pointed leave shaped ears showed that she indeed was an elf. Following her were three more tall elves, all with dark hair however. The two men were Olbaron, commander of the Nénar shipyard, and Ehtemo, a nobleman that insisted on helping Omeldor as much as possible. And a woman who goes by the name Quesseliel. She is to be the future representative of Taurenor for Omeldor. All of them wore thin pastel coloured robes, that only seemed to enhance their beauty.

OOC: Finally got over the insomnia and slept. Hope you like it FTR.

Pieceship Stormcaller at Turas (earth orbit)

The main bridge of the Stormcaller had been converted into a beautifully decorated ballroom, which now contained around two hundred tarran 'nobility'. Most of the councils had sent a representative, mostly overdressed, young, wide eyed, tree-born who tried to make polite conversation about politics or science. All of the great families were in attendance, these groups of sage traditionalists held little influence in society but would appear at the opening of a bag of crisps if it meant they could get dressed up. Half of the Ardseanaad, the uppermost council of Tarra's chaotic government system, were in full court regalia and stood near the front of the hall looking out on the Earth below and the imposing ring shape of Turas, the tarran orbital platform. Chamber music drifted across the whole assembly, trying to calm the dread that everyone was feeling.
Directally below the ballroom was the 'Function Bridge' which was now the much less grand hart of the ship. A circle of 'chairs' sat on a round circular plinth which had been lowered on hydraulics from the upper floor, nine in total occupied by nine steersmen, linked to one central AI core, they were the brain and soul of the ship. The chairs dominated the room and didn't leave much room for Teo, let alone Teo, Te'ar, Ehbron, and Silbhar.
'So, Ja'annis's intelligence suggests that the “new management” of FTR may be a bit madder then the good old Technocracy?'
'apparentally they wield ancient powers long forbidden'
'And the Taurenor will be there'
'so you will want me to do some work to see if they know about the Tuatha and the lands to the west?'
'if you get a moment Teo.'
A loud beeping interrupted the two. Silbhar, who was technically in charge of the whole operation examined the source of the sound.
'Its Turas, they say the PG-Ted catapult is ready and were are moving into position. I am going to keep the Effectoral Cores hot for this one, this whole thing reeks of 'accident.'

Omeldor-1.

The pathbreaker lurched sideways suddenly, like an animal spooked by a sudden light. A moment later, from the spot that had just been vacated a bright flash erupted, accompanied by the same radiations one would witness during a supercolider test. The light faded as quickly as it had arrived and in its place was the impressive shape of the Stormcaller, brightly lit with Tarran flags and streamers showing the great tree.
On board the Stormcaller the audience stood speechless as the immensity of the Craftworld became apparent to them. Below on the Function Bridge Teo composed himself and spoke camley into a comms recorder.

Message to Omeldor-1

'Honored Greetings from the great tree and the people of Cairn Tarra, This is Stormcaller carrying the Tarran envoy requesting, erm... permission to come aboard?'

http://www.coreline.net/tarra/stormcaller.jpg

Queen Beatrice sat in her quarters aboard the Galaxy, pondering the upcoming celebration. It was not surprising that the Danaan High Kingdom was attending. It was policy to try to attend as many diplomatic events as possible. What might be somewhat more surprising was the decision to send the Queen of Garmar herself. There were a number of reasons, not least of which was the Technocratic Republic's pending application to VERITAS. So far, the Resurgent Dream had abstained. This trip was at least in part to form an impression allowing a more definitive vote. In truth, unless something absolutely disastrous happened on this visit, the vote would be yet, given the overwhelming support by allies.

Meanwhile, on the bridge, First Lieutenant Davmorn Sapphiredge hailed the station. "Galaxy to Omeldor-1. Requesting permission to dock. Carrying a guest for the festivities. Over."

The Desertwind was most honored at your invitation as is the rest of the Second Empire. She and the Second Empire offer you and all those who were involved in the construction of this ‘Wonder of the modern day’ their warmest congratulations on achieving such a masterpiece.

Your invitation honored the Empress and she most graciously accepted. She and her entourage shall arrive by the Demirr Class; Bloodforge.

To be expected guests:

Tatiana Taurain. {Taurain Whitesand Desertwind} – Empress of the Second Empire of Azerran; First ruler of the Unified lands of Azerran; The Desertwind of Azerran; princess of the fallen lands of Tarakalar; Descendent of Damar Taurain, the Unifier of Tarakalar.
Kareil Demal – Voice of the Jaiden and aid to the Empress.
Obsidian Loyal Shard – Voice of the Tribes and representative of the Tribal council.

Naturally the Bloodforge shall carry it’s own contingent of security forces however these shall remain onboard the vessel as the Empress is certain that her stay at Omeldor-1 shall be a safe one.

Honor and peace to you and yours.

Through the silent expanse of space the Bloodforge made it’s way towards it’s rendezvous point. Compared to many of the ships that made their way to the massive space station, the Bloodforge was rather unspectacular in it’s soberness. The best way to describe the ship was a simple six hundred meter long wall that tapered at the bottom to form a sharp edge. From the front end many long antennae extended outward. At the end there were six large engines that propelled the ship forward with it’s steady pace. There were no windows or obvious central points anywhere from outside appearance. The ship carried no weapons and it’s sole defense seemed to be it’s solid design and thick hull.

It was sober and simple, just the way Tatiana preferred it. Not that it was something she thought of right now as she stood within her own assigned quarters. The room was as simple as the rest of the ship with metallic walls and floors. Nowhere was there a sign that the room had been designed to be comfortable. Where it not for it’s size and the fact that is was designed for one person one could easily have believed that they were in a room onboard a submarine. Something which for the most part of the ship was perfectly true.

With a sense of satisfaction the 51 year old Empress realized that most royalty wouldn’t be able to bear in such a standard ship. She herself couldn’t stand the fancy dresses that her assistants were dragging up from Prophet’s only knew where.

Even thought she was human, Tatiana Taurain; Empress of Azerran and former princess of the old Sisgardian nation of Tarakalar, didn’t look like she was halfway her life span. As a pure blooded Tarakalar royalty her bloodline had been bred for generations for long life spans and she could easily come close to reaching two hundred years. Truthfully however Tatiana didn’t look like royalty either. Her hair was still kept short and dyed bright red like the days she was a Jaiden Officer and her body language was that of someone more comfortable in the role of predator then a serious humored ruler. As again was shown in her preferred style of clothing… But for once she had agreed to wear more regal clothes for the inauguration of Omeldor-1.

It was a agreement she was seriously beginning to regret.

“Your majesty, please. I assure you that you do not look ‘daft’ in this dress. The fabric is the finest of silk and just look at the richness of the black dye.”

“It’s daft alright. Show me something else. Now, we reach the station in only a matter of hours. I do not want to walk around like a brain dead harlot like the Twelve Prophets know how many delegate women there will no doubt be.”

It was promising to be a long remaining ‘few’ hours before they reached the station and the Empress gave a weary sigh as her aids brought out another dress.

//OOC: For the RPs sake, we can assume that all delegations are given the proper docking clearances once their transports arrive.

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"My good Arcturus" Came the voice of the Count "This decoration is of my like. My congratulations for a work well done"

Arcturus smiled at the Count's comment "Thank you, my lord. I give the best for the best of men"

The Count's eyes jumped from one point of the hall to another: From massive banners, to tall curtains, to exquisitely crafter statues of marble and copper, to hosts of finely dressed guards and servants. Yes, he liked the decoration.

"How long until the first delegation arrives, Arcturus?"

"Several of them have already done so. Their transports are either docking or waiting to dock. The delegates should be with us in moments"

The Count nodded "And are the shuttles ready? Nothing must go wrong"

Arcturus smiled "Certainly. We have ten shuttles ready to transport the delegates from the Hedothion to the world station. I have inspected their decoration and service personally. Nothing will go wrong" He gave a quick look at the Count "My lord, where is the Countess?"

"Ah, the Countess" The Count sighed "She was too busy overseeing the lasts details; she is obsessed with this event. I will have to greet the delegated myself, alone"

"I will be here with you, my lord. Worry not"

The Count smiled "Thank you, my loyal Arcturus. Now, where should I be standing..."

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Mordenkainen stood in the small but comfortable room assigned to him, making some final adjustments to his clothing while looking himself in the mirror. Bigbi awaited behind, a bit impatient "Lord Mordenkainen, the guest will be there in any minute. I think it would be most prudent for us to go to the moon as soon as possible"

Mordenkainen smiled, as his robe adjusted by itself after a wave of his hand "Yes, yes, we will be there on time. I left a teleportation beacon there so we would not have to travel much"

Bigbi's eyes opened widely "A beacon? My lord, you should not be letting those artifacts anywhere. They are rare and very dangerous in the wrong hands"

"Do not worry. I left it in the hands of a trusted guard. Besides, it will allow us a grand entrance once the guests arrive. We must set a good first impression"

"I would not be so sure" Bigbi's voice became more serious "I have good information regarding the opinion of some of our allies about magic. Perhaps such impression will go in our disadvantage. I must advice against the use of teleportation in this situation"

Mordenkainen raised an eyebrow "What? Are they scared of this fine art? Jealous? If they wish to deal with us, they will have to get used to the fact that we, the wielders of magic, control the fate of the Federation. I am sure they will understand. There is no reason to fear magic, only reasons to be amused by it"

"Garnek, you have been cleared for docking. Transmitting coordinates of approach."
Karak nodded as he received the coordinates, bringing the Garnek about on the set course. The docking doors opened, and the ax-like shuttle smoothly glided in. As the doors shut behind it, the Garnek released the mag-clamps and docked at the instructed location.
Karak got out of his seat and stretched his legs before heading out of the shuttle, with a pair of Berserks in escort attire and equipment just ahead of him. Cracking his neck, he got off the shuttle and began to make his way to the main hall.

Lumbering and ungraceful the Bloodforge might have appeared, it docked with ease and strange sense of elegance, much like a seal in it’s native element. Smoothly the seals connected the ship tightly against the space station and the walk way extended to create a safe connection point of travel. Indeed the docking went so easily that were it not for the many monitoring systems aboard the ship, no one would have realized that she ship had stopped.

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Walking out of the travelling corridor Empress Tatiana Taurain set her first foot onto the artificial battle moon Hedothion as well as being the first Azerran to enter any of the Omeldron-1 complexes. She looks nervously around and swallowed as she took in the sheer size of the moon. “Twelve prophets preserve us for giving the touch of gods to mortal hands…” Swallowing down a sense of nervousness and an all too alien feeling of humbleness down she put on a pleasant smile as she walked out onto the moon.

Her face was still youthful despite her age and she looked to be in her mid twenties. She bore three thin scars across her left eyebrow and down her cheek and her left eye was a jade green with a brighter offsetting brighter ‘bars’ inside it on the outer edges, a artificial eye that drew attention not only because it seemed to have been deliberately designed to show the outer lining of the camera behind the iris but also because her natural right eye was a deep gray in color. She wore a sleeveless deep black dress along with black satin gloves that reached up to her upper arm and her torso was hugged by a ceremonial silver cuirass that was decorated richly with designs of roses with thorns on their stems and intricate flames dancing around them. On her forehead she wore a silver tiara that followed the same motif as the design on her cuirass; thorned roses embracing dancing flames. Her normally deep red dyed hair was now its natural black color but still kept in its almost boyish style. While Tatiana moved with a sense of grace and authority it was relatively clear that she still had to adjust to both her position as Empress as well as the formality of her appearance.

The arrival of the three guests was not the usual standard of the most important person in the middle for Tatiana walked on the far right per Azerran custom. To her left walked Kerail Demal; Once Tatiana’s tutor when she served as a Jaiden he had now become her personal bodyguard and aid. He was a older man whose face was covered in several battle scars that went up high to his hairline, discoloring the brown hair with shocking white streaks. His crimson red clothes were simple and effective though their sheer quality and materials made it clear they were quite expensive.
Walking to the left of Kerial Demal was the Tribes Voice; Obsidian Loyal Shard. He was a young and self confident man who was reasonable attractive. Of the three he seemed most comfortable with this diplomatic meeting and the smile on his lips was a well practiced one that was both formal and real at the same time. He dressed in thigh high boots and a blue pair of pants. A silk white vest with puffy sleeves was covered by a thick leather jerkin that was embroidered with gold decorations picturing a massive tree on its back.

As the three made their way towards the main hall, politely smiling and nodding respectively, six of the Bloodforge’s guards stepped out of the connection corridor and waited there to ensure that no one would enter the ship unauthorized.

The Stormcaller made its way slowly towards the Utility moon. Along its grand port equatorial corridor Teo Ebhron and Somn waited by the docking coupling. The 'well wishers' had opted unanimously to stay in the ballroom, mesmerized by the scale and beauty. A clear friendly announcement rang out over the ships PA system.
Honorable Guests, the Stormcaller will now begin several orbits of the Omeldor-1, to allow for the best sightseeing experience
Teo cast a worried look at his colleagues, he was about to speak when The much less clear and clean voice of Sihlbhar spoke into their ear-pieces.
“Sorry sirs, Change of plan, LAMMAS dose not want us going inside that moon, the council agreers, we need a clear path of exit. Make your way to Phoenix and shuttle in manually – best of luck, Nemh onóir.”
“W-What was that about”
Teo responded with a comical smile “sshs Somn, you wanted to get involved in Foreign relations, this is what its like. Now get a move on.”

Stormcaller 'ascended' to cross over the top of the Moon as it underbelly opened up and the (comparatively) tiny Phoenix emerged from the docking bay and set a straight source to the docking area.
“This is the Tarran diplomatic ship Phoenix, requesting docking on Hedothion for the Inauguration.”
“what happened to the big ship?”
“She is taking the highborn on a few orbits as a tour of the facility”
the sound of a quickly suppressed sigh was herd on the other end of the channel “okay, carry on, bay 3 tier 9”
“thank you”
Teo brought the ship down at the co-ordinates, they had expected the five-hundred meter long stormcaller, so the twenty meter long phoenix was dwarfed by the restraining braces and docking apparatus. After a few minutes they managed to negotiate an airlock on a docking spur. The three delegates tidied up their robes and left the ship, towards whatever would greet them.

The small Diplomatic Ship Hermes set off from the surface of Sisgardia on its journey to the Omeldor-1. Both Teres and Genesis had resorted to locking themselves in seperate portions of the ship, unwilling to speak to one another.

Pilias was quite impressed by the quality of this relatively new ship design, one of the 5th Generation Bio-ships of Genesis Corp. The sleek craft was only 20m in length and about half that in height. It resembled a giant seed from a plant.

Once the ship approached the Omeldor-1 and proper security clearances were transmitted the ship approached the docking bay, ready to land.

(sorry for the lack of post, I don't the the time to post long length posts in my 30 minutes per day I have access to the internet.)

"There they are" Said the Count, rubbing his hands together, a bit nervous, someone would say "Should we wait here or go salute them? You know I am not good at these things"

Arcturus smiled "It would be wise if we approached the entrance. There we can wait for each delegation to pass and greet each individually. Then they can proceed to the welcoming cocktail and meet each other while we wait for each delegation to arrive"

"But what if one of them arrives late?" The Count asked

"Well, if they take too long to arrive, my lord, you will go with them and take the maglev toward the palace, while I wait for the rest here" Arcturus smiled again "Nothing will go wrong, my lord"

Both the Count and Arcturus walked toward the entrance. As they walked, their heavy, flowing robes moved gently along with their steps. Arcturus, a man of very old age, walked with perfect posture and harmony. The Count, a man in his forties, did what he could to seem more alive and imposing, but his short stature and lack of graceful movement made him look rather clumsy.
Once they arrived at the entrance of the corridor that connected with the docking area, they stood to a side. Two large wooden statues depicting two wizards fighting against each other, made from a most fine ebony brought from Earth, flanked the entrance, five meter tall each.
Patiently, they awaited the delegates to arrive: The delegation from Der Angst, then that of Madahajara, Taurenor, Muktar, Azerran, CairnTarra, Pilon. All of them were personally greeted by both the Count Luthanor of Thalenost and his servant, Arcturus of Tartzerkar. One by one they passed, and were directed toward the cocktail area. There, a host of ServClones, all dressed in finely crafted suits of black, white and green awaited, ready to serve drink and canapé to the newly arrived.

Ebrihon and Somn, two thirds of the tarran delegation stood in the hall facing each other looking absolutely terrified. Neither had any experience in foreign relations, neither had ever been in the company of foreigners, until yesterday Somn ha dent even been off planet and now they were like an island of fear in the mammoth hall.
Teo, returned form the cocktail table with two and a half plates piled high with orderves.
'Here, you two, try this, they may have slightly odd dress sense but by the spirits they can cook.' he forced one of the plates into Somn's hands and set to work on his own supply.
'mmmpppmmha, sshh, the elves, look.'
Teo made the other Tarrans aware of Taurenorian party, 'don't keep looking, its rude'
Ebhron spoke in a hushed voice 'so those are the ones the council thinks are descended from the Tuatha?'
'more then that child, they may be the Tuatha. I have yet to find any evidence of Elvinkind dieing of old age, though to be fair there isn't much information on them'
'they are fair indeed.' Somn was still transfixed, he jolted as Teo kicked him in the shin.
'fair and powerful, try not to be rude to them, or near them, or mention anything about rudeness in a three klick radius around them. If theres one Sisgardian race the council would be happy to hear I had made contact with, it would be them.' Teo consumed several more of the decorative snacks with the alarming speed that was the hallmark of Tarran dieing.
'Who are the others then?'
'mfmfmmmfhh,' Teo coughed. 'I think there are some Pioneese here abouts, I didn't recognize their clothing or their faces, they have elves as well, I don't think they are of as pure stock as the Taurenor. as to the rest, I have no idea, never seen them before, i am not even sure there WTE, if it still exists' he shrugged.
Ebrihon nodded towards the Count and Arcturus.
'That must be the new management'
Teo followed his nod 'i am not so sure, probably just an aide, It would be very unlike the federation to pass up such a fantastic opportunity for a grand opening.'
Ebrihon smiled, 'take notes the pair of you, i am sure the council will want a detailed report on the ceremony so we can out-do it when it comes out turn'
'I think it would probably take a Yagdrassil sized bonfire to outdo what we may be about to whiteness'
Somn barley suppressed a gasp of horror at the thought.
'Lighten up Somn,' Teo gestured towards the table 'theres food, and wine, go make some friends.'

"Recognise anyone?"

Tatiana turned around and pulled the glass of wine away from her lips as she faced Kerial. Even after all these years she still had to fight the urge to salute him from the days he was her superior officer.

"The Elves, their hard to miss. And the Tarrans, well I guess their the Tarrans if the profile given on them is accurate. Their the rigid colums over there sinking in loose sand. One of them looks a little more confident though... Guess he has more experience with this."

Looking around the room, Kerial frowned as he failed to spot the overdressed third member of their party. "Quite.. Where is the tribal?" Muttering under his breath, the bodyguard sighed as he caught the dissaproving glare of his Empress and rollde his eyes. "Mister Shard?"

"He went to the refreshment table to see what there was to eat, several minutes ago. I guess he rather likes the offerings." Smirking, Tatiana sipped carefully from her glass.

"Why did I come here? I should have send someone else to handle this. I am miserable at the political field. And yes here I am, left my birth planet for the first time to come to this monstrosity of brilliance and arrogance. "

"One must begin somewhere, young Tiger of the Jaiden..." Kerial smiled as he caught Tatiana's surprised expression at her old title from before she was even considered to rule her old homeland, let alone a entirely new empire. "... Aside from that, there are other rulers here. I refuse to belief that all of them care only for the delicate matters. No doubt a few share your heart and believes, this is your chance to meet them as well as see how we could move people to colonise one of the domes."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Uncomfortable as the two others seemed, 'Obsidian Loyal Shard' apperantly had no problem mingling with others or the fact he was in space for the first time in his life. Small apperatives and sips of wine kept his mouth occupied when he wasn't chatting with some of the others by the food table.

Grand Duchess Beatrice disembarked as her ship docked, walking into the party with her entourage. As befits a Sidhe, Beatrice was breathtakingly beautiful, shining with a golden radiance of nobility. The refined features of her face were worn in a pleasant if reserved smile and her porcelain skin seemed to glisten in the light. She wore a gown of purple gossamer with light and shadow dancing within the dream fabric. Her white shoulders and arms were left bare, though her gloves, elegantly fingerless, came up to near her elbows. Her glorious brown hair was worn in a fabulous up-do. The odd thing was her eyes, her pure white eyes that showed no sign of iris or pupil, staring sightlessly at the crowd.

Sir Joseph Beaufoy, one of her courtiers, a dashing young man in a knightly dress uniform, guided her gently through the room. His black hair and the dark green cloth of his uniform cut a dark figure against the light background of the room.

Also in her attendance was Raven Von Absinthe, a grey-skinned, rather unattractive Redcap woman dressed up in a loose, green jacket and long skirt designed to leave everything to the imagination and for good reason. She kept her mouth closed and her terrifying yellow teeth hidden. Even as her eyes burned with great hunger, she held herself behind and next to Beatrice, moving with rigid and unwavering discipline.

On the other side of the Grand Duchess from Von Absinthe was Nagelfar Casesplitter, a tall, blonde human man with a muscular physique. He wore ceremonial leather armor. He looked around the crowd with a reserved expression.

Taurevanimë looked around the room, admiring the interior with a casual glance before she started looking at each of the guests gathered. She looked each one straight into the eyes, her own eyes seemingly saying she knew what everyone was thinking. Then she just stood there, waiting to see who would be the first to approach her.

Ehtemo was different though, he simply smiled and made his way straight over to the representatives from the Technocratic Republics, giving them a slight bow. “Treuly a grand construction you have made, my praise goes to everyone that helped build it. Among them myself.” He smiled and looked over the interior.

[OOC: Terribly sorry for the belated response, been busy with the regional board threads :\ ]

***

The Taraskovyan delegate was escorted by quite an extensive security arrangement. Indeed, following the death of one of the Ruling Councilors, the other two got a certain desire not to end up this way. And what better escort than an entire Battlegroup? Unfortunately, docking a Taraskovyan dreadnaught that was carrying Councilor Voevodov to the Omeldor-1 might have proved a tad tricky, so a shuttle was dispatched from the combat ship, to finally dock with the craftworld.

Voevodov smiled proudly as he walked through the common creation of Sisgardians. Indeed, Tarasovka also gave a hand in its creation, as did many other nations. A truly common effort that yielded a simply magnificent result. The Councilor’s bodyguards, however, were also attentive to details, but not with admiration, more of practical nature. Indeed, they had no desire to see a Legionnaire pop up out of nowhere to shoot their boss. And since these Legion folks had their spies and agents everywhere…

But nothing predicted any White Legion intervention, so Voevodov simply greeted the other guests.

Teo met the Elven queen's guise and ventured a friendly smile, which was about all he could manage with out risking his balance, to his credit he kept her guise until her eyes ventured on to the next party, before turning slowly around, leaning heavily on Somn's shoulder for balance and speaking in a harsh, distressed whisper.
'bresanamacha!! she looked straight at me, máthair na ardneara onóraca, the firstborn blessed keeper of the absolute west looked right into my eyes. And saw every thought therein.... Where's the canopies?!.'
Somn offered his shocked superior the last of his plate and mooved off to the table to get some more.
'Teo, don't go south on us now, Thricecrowned knows what me and Somn would do if you passed out... Besides, shouldent you be trying to make contact with her?'
Teo didn't smile. 'I have seen the awesome might of the weapons of this region, enough power to wink this entire solar system out of existence, but the power in her eyes, could halt the universe.'

Somn stood at one of the tables piling up another two plated with sweet meets and other food, he chanced to glance upon the Duchess and her entourage. He stooped dead, looked over at Teo, and looked back at the newly arrived party again. He made a slight bow and seemed to mutter something under his breath before making his way back to the other Tarrans.
Somn approached Teo and Ebrihon with two plates of sweet foods and passed them to Teo. 'Are you okay?'
'No'
'Ah'
Somn directed Ebrihon's attention towards the newly arrived party, and the Duchess, 'Laugh if you want, but I think they are Feyblood'
Ebrihon suppressed a laugh. 'Haven't you been told?, theres no such thi.... They do a bit don't they.'
Somn risked another glance 'The beautifully dressed woman looks like an Autumn Queen,'
'Shh, watch your mouth.'
'You said yourself, Fey don't exist, so it must just be a striking resemblance'
Teo, rejuvenated by the half plate of tasty snacks he had already consumed looked up at the new arrivals 'The universe, is vast, never for one moment assume that something dosent exist just because it is not near to you.'
'Two of the great myths, in one day'
'But if they are truly fey and they are truly elves, how can they stand in the same hall as each other? The legends...'
'..are nearly twelve thousand years old' Teo interrupted 'The forging wars were fought long before we had gifts of speech, let alone writing, all thats left is what Lord Stone taught us, speculation all of it... Now, we will have to write all this up later and submit it to the council, so be mindful and don't jump to conclusions or allow stereotypes to cloud your vision. I, am going to talk to the blessed firstborn.'
Teo passed the plate to Somn, who nearly dropped it in supprise and stroad off towards the Taurenorian party. His warm smile masking the terror in his hart.

Taurevanimë slowly turned to Teo as he was approaching and looked at him, judging his clothing, appearence and posture. “Greetings Teo of the lands of Cairn Tarra,” She said seemingly straight into in his mind as he came close to her.

“The party seems to be picking up a little in speed.”

“Indeed it is, my lady. So what are you planning on doing… We can’t stay here the whole time.”

“I don’t know? Mingle? But if I approach anyone doesn’t that sort of convey a sense …. Submission?” Tatiana scowled, careful not to let others see it, and shook her head.

“You are the Empress. Act befitting your position and you shall be equal and superior of anyone here.”” Rijar smiled at Tatiana and then gave a small nudge to get her to move away from where she had been standing since she entered the room.

“Very well. Lets avoid the Undying though; I prefer to be ready before facing unnatural races. It makes me uncomfortable when I think about dealing with someone cursed to live forever.” Whispering, to her friend, Tatiana drew herself up to her full height and with a smile made her way to the representatives of the Technocratic Republic. The hosts should be greeted first after all.
It wasn’t until they were close that Tatiana realized that the man speaking to the FTR representatives was a Elf as well and she gave a mental smile but managed to keep a brave face and smiled at them all amiably.

She held her left hand before the middle of her chest, pressing her fingers against the midriff as she moved her right hand before her and slowly turned it around so that her palm faced upwards while keeping her fingers slightly curled. Beside her Rijar performed a simiar motion but his right hand stayed closed and he bowed his head slightly.

“I thank you for your invitation to this marvelous and ambitious construction. Might I offer my sincerest compliments and admirations to you all for creating such a monument?”

Teo was short for a tarran, standing around 1.3 meters, he was also old, though most of the inconsistencies in his posture were caused by his terror and not his age, his hair was long and curled, turning gray and in places white at the tips, his face had lost its youthful vigor, replaced with a look of wisdom, several unknown scars showed his age and the work he had wrought but his eyes still shone with the glee of a child shown a compass for the first time. He was dressed simply, on top of a simple natural brown robe was a stunning white Council robe, on the right brest were several bits of text which appeared to be Quenya writings but upon inspection they made no sense or used symbols that didn't exist in... the wrong order.
Teo's mind was like oil,he new what to say and the fear had made his brain function faster, like a mouse, cornered by a preditor, giving him more time to carefully pick out the words he needed to say.

how to get the information the council need with out being rude...
he spoke quickly, betraying his nervousness,
'Nemh onóir firstborn, The council send their warmest greetings to you and your people.'
he bowed deeply, trying not to brake eye-contact.
there, 'firstborn' i said it, and if I have failed then let the ancients destroy my spirit where I stand – what else dose the council send Teo, think!
'I speak for all Tarrans when I say that I wish we had made a better first impression, We Tarrans so rarely have the courage or the cause to speak to our neighbors, it is regrettable.
your talking too much, finish the job.
his eyes darted behind Taurevanimë for just a moment, looking for some reflective surface to try and spot his companions, he tried spotting their reflection in her eyes, but they seamed to be alive with light and removed form space all at once.
what other message did the council send
'Also, we would like to invite you, or one of your representatives to journey to Yagdrassil in a few months along with various representatives form the SFN for a tour and a celebration marking the opening of the maglev station, and.. hopefully better communication between the Tarrans and our honorable neighbors.'
you IDIOT you just put her into Stones gambit – if she dose not attend she will see it as an affront to our nation, and if she dose she may do so agenst her will.
He felt that the entire station had just been pumped to vacuum, that all had been surrendered to the void accept for him and her eyes. He knew he was on the verge of collapse, but he also field a supporting hand on his shoulder, and an instant later he was back in reality, thankfully, still upright.
is the ancients would say, the ball is in her court now.

Somn and Ebrihon stood facing each other, Somn looking over his colligues shoulder at Teo, Ebrihon keeping an eye out lest any of the mingelers aproach the tarren delogation. Somn was more skilled in external affairs, but, ironically Ebrihon looked the more senior of the two.

Taurevanime listened attentivly as Teo spoke to her, seeing his inner struggle for words and subjects to say. As Teo finished speaking she remained silent, just staring into his eyes before gracing his ears with her voice once more. “Do no t worry about the impression you made. It was a good one. And we too have little cause to speak to our neighbours.” She paused and looked over at Somn and Ebrihon before looking at Teo once more. “I shall try visiting Yagdrassil in a few months, but make no promisses.”
She then turned around and picked up an apple and faced Teo once more and took a bite from it and chewed it slowly. “Now Teo, we both know you came to ask more of me then just that. Speak and I shall listen.” She said and then offered Teo the apple.

He accepted the apple and looked at it for a moment before looking back up at the Queen, this time there was no terror in his eyes.
This was like a dream to Teo, he could ask the question every Tarran had dreamed of asking since the first images of the Elves had been relieved into the public domain, there was no fear in his mind, in his eyes there was a new sparkle. He, like all Tarran new exactally what to say.

'Our people have long held a myth that before the dawn of our history, A vast and beautiful race of people came form the land beyond the west, they are said to have been called the “Tuatha da Dannan”, they built the great Stone circles at Cairn Macha, Eman Macha, Cairn na Leagh, The Rollrights, all of them, they taught the primitive inhabitance the ways of the runes, of song, of honor and harmony with their surroundings, they were the very basis of Tarran myth. The great seer, Lord Stone of Seven Circles looked through all of history and taught us songs telling of their beauty and writings. Then, they vanished without a trace.'

Teo paused and took a bite of the apple, his mind wondered for a fraction of a second, a childhood memory from Tarra, standing in awe in front of Newgrange, the last of the great circles.

'In essence, your highness, the Tuatha are the very hart, soul and mind of Tarran faith. Almost every Tarran believes that the Elves are, or knew of the Tuatha. And lord stone taught us to say one thing when you see a Tuatha.
So, Are you, or do you know of the Tuatha da Dannan'

he paused for a moment recalling an ancient song taught to every Tarran child and then added the last line.

'Ya Vinyaa E Kaalinainwaa Nuume'

Teo took another bite of the apple, he was developing somewhat of a headache.

Taurevanimë listened closely to every word and pondered deeply about them and her own reply. “It is possible.” She said softly. “Yet I do not know everything of my people's history, nor have I ever been in the west or have contact with the west.” She then showed one of the faintest smiles to soften the blow for Teo. “But do not dispair or abandon your search for knowledge. Seek out Sirithil of Menelmacar, she is both old and wise. She was there at the beginning days of my people, she would be able to anwser your questions.”

Teo could not help but smile, like all of the legend's best enigmas the answer was in the question, and not knowing the answer can sometimes answer the question on its own.
the question had been answered – the Tuatha were elvinkind, or at least, they came from the same place, or shared the same language and myths.
Teo Smiled and bowed deeply.
'It it not within our spirits to give up when the quest is still honorable shall tell the council of what you have said, though truthfully I doubt such a renowned and powerful nation will pay much attention.' he paused 'Your highness, thank you.'

he bowed again and turned to leave.

To most note Beatrice for the beauty of her dress, though it was gossamer and made of dreams, one would have to be blind to the woman who wore it. A Sidhe in filth-caked sackclothe would still look like a noble. And also most distinctly inhuman, not merely like a Human who might have fairy blood. After all, Humans did not have pointy-ears or shine with preternatural beauty and a sense of agelessness that conveyed both a sense of the truly ancient and a sense of the freshness that was the Springtime of the world at once. That was, perhaps, part of the reason the Danaans had never developed a story along the model of The Prince and the Pauper or Cinderella. Such an event would not have been possible in the old days of the Resurgent Dream. Now, of course, all races were welcome into the nobility and things were a little different.

Beatrice was a tall women, her long, elegantly pointed ears tapering off with a refined, elfin grace. She had a high, elegant forehead and delicate, slender features. Her sightless eyes spun towards the delegates from CairnTarra almost as soon as she overheard his words. They were words that no Danaan with good hearing could miss. The second holiest name in their religion. Her soft lips turned downwards into a frown when she heard the actual words. "Blasphemy..." she murmured silently, quieter than a breath. Then, politely, she smiled to Casesplitter, the most definitely Human diplomat. "Perhaps you could arrange to have the appropriate literature sent to the CairnTarrans delegates." Casesplitter bowed and went back to the ship to make arrangements.

Sir Joseph guided the Grand Duchess towards Taurevanime. For a moment, those white, sightless eyes, "looked" directly into Taurevanime's oddly. Then, Beatrice curtsied with perfect grace. "Your Majesty, I am Beatrice ni Balor, Grand Duchess of Garmar. I greet you in the name of High Queen Agwene ni Gwydion, the Tuatha de Danaan, Dana herself and all gods and principles which my people hold dear."

Rising again, Beatrice smiled softly at Taurevanime. "Your Majesty, seeing as our nations are already allies and friends, I was hoping that perhaps you might do me the immense honor of presenting myself to the Technocratic Republicans, who we hope might also become our friends."

Taurevanimë nodded to Teo as he bowed and watched him walk away. She then found Beatrice approaching her and looking straight into her eyes, that is if she had pupils at all. However Taurevanimë seemed unphased by the fact and looked deeply into the woman's eyes, finding them rather curious.
“Greetings Beatrice ni Balor, I am Taurevanimë nossë Erethion, Queen of Taurenor.” She introduced herself and returned Beatrice's smile and listened to her words. “Then I shall do you the honour, please follow me.” Taurevanimë said and lead Beatrice over to he representatives from the Technocratic Republics.
“Greetings allies. I bring to you Beatrice ni Balor, Grand Duchess of Garmar. She is here from The Resurgent Dream, representing High Queen Agwene ni Gwydion.” She said and then gestured to Beatrice. “If the vote goes well, you'll soon be allied to her nation as we are.

Beatrice straightened slightly at Taurevanime's words, one brow arching ever so faintly and her lips turning ever so faintly downwards. Beyond that, her expression remained even, perfect, and immensely proud. One truly to the manor born was almost unphaseable. Her white eyes, utterly without pupils and with an ageless depth beyond time itself, simply regarding Taurevanime, somehow managing to keep lined up with the Elf's gaze perfectly, despite the fact that she presumably could not see it. After a very, very long moment, she smiled knowingly, ever so faintly. "Yes, of course. But I do not quite see your hurry, Majesty."

Beatrice walked with Taurevanime. She was not exactly following and not exactly walking beside her either. Rather, the front half of Beatrice's body was perfectly aligned with the back half of Taurevanime's and she walked exactly two paces to the Queen's right hand. The position was perfectly precise and Beatrice seemed never to increase or decrease her distance and never to move forward or backward in comparison to Taurevanime, whether or not the other woman sped up or slowed down.

She inclined her head politely to the representatives. "I am glad to be here." she said simply, awaiting their introduction.

‘More of them!’ Tatiana fought the urge to fidget as the elves approached the FTR delegation, and by result herself and Rijar. With effort she fought of the sense of discomfort and managed to calm her nerves, giving a polite nod to the elves as they joined the group.

‘At least their interest is on the hosts… Good. Blasted shame I can’t walk away now. Damned rules of etiquette’

Still, she would stay strong she told herself. Regardless of the nature of the Elves existence shouldn’t bother her. She was Taurain and her bloodline might be younger then some of these very elves lifetimes but she wouldn’t whimper or grovel before them. Steadily she managed to strengthen her resolve once more as they Grand Duchess was introduced to the FTR delegation but a part of Tatiana found herself wishing she wore her traditional uniform. Everything was better when she wore her uniform…

Beatrice, of course, could no more see the Empress Tatiana than she could see anything else, and was thus unable to respond to her nod. However, her entourage, Human and Fae alike, bowed without hesitation to all crowned heads and ranking peers they were brought into close contact with on the trip to see the hosts, including the Azerran Empress. The bows were no deeper and no shallower than their bows to Taurevanime and were made with exactly the same bearing and manner.

The Tarran delegation stood in a small group, near the food table, this time however they were not statues, there conversation was in a loud whisper, the sort by which passers by could clearly listen to what was being said, but knew they weren't supposed to. Somn was gesticulating wildly and Teo massaged his forehead. Ebrihon seamed to be the only one who payed attention to the rest of the gathering.

Teo had just finished explaining the conversation with the Elfin queen and epically the introduction made by the Feyborn who had approached. He held the apple, still only half eaten and shook it at the others as if it were a pointer.
Somn was having trouble with the basics.
'Hang on, the Fey are the Tuatha?'
'Yes Somn'
'But the Elves responded to the challenge?'
'again, 10 out of 10'
'What is going on?'
'Well I get the feeling that the Tarran intelligence infrastructure, all 3 of them, will bring its full investigative force to bare on these Fey.'
Ebrihon looked thoughtful, 'What about meeting with Sirithil of Menelmacar'
'Hopeless, the only Sisguardian nation with the ghost of a hope of that kind of honor is the one that referred us to it'
'So get the lady Taaurevanimee to refer us?' Somns overpronounciation bore the hallmark extended voul sounds reserved for items of great importance or beauty.
Teo shook the apple at Somn 'Why don't you? I am a biologist, not a diplomat' he looked at the apple and smiled 'and im not going to be sleeping for the next six days at least.'
Ebrihon tried to bring the conversation back on topic.
'One of us will have to speak to this fey queen or her entourage, or we will have to schedule a visit... to Arcadia? The dreaming? How close dos re reality match the legends?' he paused, and smiled. 'What if Macha walks the material world again?'
Teo stared directally at him, 'What if Medb walks the world.'
'Perhaps we aren't meant to uncover ALL of the myths tonight, just form what we have already the Silent City will be silent no longer'
Teo turned to the snack table and put some of his favourate snacks on a plate. He turned to view the other delegates, looking for any familiar faces, and smiling to any that met his eyes, even though he was deeply troubled, and his headache was worsening.
Such a grand gift that apple was Teo. Such an open gesture of trust in our honor, its study will be a matter of the spirit, not of biology, and it shall be undertaken on the Cairnlands and overseen by those more pure of spirit then me.

Somn shrugged at Ebrihon, he felt a strange pull in his spirit, he wanted to go and talk to these foreigners, Such wonders had been learned in a single night, what of future interactions. He looked towards the party of Feyborn.
Ebrihon sighed and got some food of his own.

The Count and Arcturus had already greeted personally every delegation by the time Taurevanimë and Beatrice walked toward them. As both elven females approached, both men could witness the serenity and grace of each step they took. Elves had a particular style the Count had always liked.

The Count bowed deeply "My salutation toward you, lady Taurevanimë, lady Beatrice. It is a true honour for me to bow before two figures like yourselves" The Count extended a broad smile "As you say, we hope that the voting to VERITAS goes as expected by our delegates. It is truly within the interests of the Federation to be able to join such a pact"

An old lady of thin, bony face walked toward the group. She wore a cerulean robe and a massive necklace that hung over the clothing. She held a dark drink within her left hand "Elves, marvellous creatures. Long lived and graceful. Care to present these fine ladies to me, Abrenor?"

The Count turned to the lady. She was Iphthea, Duchess of Carplusa, the Count's older sister. He smiled to her a bit nervously "Iphthea, my dear sister... What brings you here?"

Iphthea took a sip of her drink "Well, Abrenor, I was invited. Were you not told?"

The Count gazed at Artcurus, who returned a look of impotence "Yes, yes, I was, how could I forget. Ipthea, I present you lady Taurevanimë nossë Erethion, Queen of Taurenor, and lady Beatrice ni Balor, Grand Duchess of Garmar. They come as representatives fr..."

Iphthea interrupted him "Elven royalty, I see. Very good, very good. I am royalty too. Can not say the same about your dressing style, my dears, but very good, very good"

Arcturus took one step toward Abrenor and spoke to his ear "My lord, I do think your sister duchess is a bit over the edge of alcoholism"

"She is drunk, I know" The Count took her sister's arm "Look, Iphthea, the Tarran delegation seems a bit nervous, so why do not you go and make them feel welcomed?"

The Duchess gave a side look to her brother, and among discrete pushes and pulls, the Count took her out from the conversation.

"As I was saying..."

The sudden dwindling of the hall's lights interrupted the Count. He looked at his watch "Mordenkainen"

In the back of the room, next to the hallway that leads to the shuttle area, a circle of blue energy, about three meters in diameter, began to draw itself in midair. Crackling discharges traveled around it, jumping to the nearby floor and walls. When the circle was completed, its interior turned cyan, then blue, then black, choired by a loud rumbling sound. Suddenly, a long metallic rod came out from the circle, and touched the floor. Behind it came the rest of it, followed by a hand, then an arm inside a wide sleeve of black and gold. The arm was followed by a shoulder, then a torso, and a face, a short bearded face of black hair and black eyes, with a broad smile of white teeth. Mordenkainen. After he came out, slowly, from the circle, a second figure came after him. It was tall and bulky, some would say fat, toppled by a round face of long beard orange as copper. Bigbi.

Both magicians stood for a few seconds in front of the portal. Lights were still dim, but delegates could see Mordenkainen's look; he seemed clearly interested in the people there present. He rose his cane and spoke with a strong and loud voice.

"I bear greetings and salutations, many of them, for all of you, most honourable guests. Greetings that wish to welcome you, salutes that wish to make you feel like home, so far from it as we are now. You all and I stand at the gates of the technological marvel known as the Omeldor, a station, no, a world crafted to become a hub, a centre of activity and development in this cold corner of the system. We act as your hosts, but it is no less true that we were but a piece of the grand collaboration project that this effort signified. It is not a treasure we can claim, it is a treasure all of Sisgardia, and all of you, my friends, can and will participate with. I am a mere signaller, a voice carrier, of the words and phrases that many of the souls here reunited would like to say, and with many reasons. We are proud, we fell victorious, we have succeeded, and you all can witness it, here, now. The Omeldor, the World Station, await for you to walk within it's innards and skin, to feel it, to understand it, and to realise what it means, what it meant, and what it will mean. I welcome you to the Omeldor-1"
And as soon as his last word was said, the portal dissipated into nothingness and lights returned to normal.

Karak nodded his hellos as people passed him, smiling politely as neccesary. One delegate was particularly chatty, but he decided to keep away from the food table for the moment. He never could stop at one drink, and wanted to stay sobber during the party. One interesting thing did catch his eye, however, as it did one of his guards.
"The Azerrans seem a tad fidgety about the elves."
Karak meerly nodded. "I'm in the mood for a chat. Hopefully, their fidgetiness is due to awe and not contempt."
Karak and his guards began to walk up to the Azerran delegation, and he reached out his arm to shake hands. Unlike most representatives, he was familiar with the foreign style of handshake: grab at the hand itself, not at the upper wrist.
"Hello. I am Karak, representative of Muktar."

OOC: I've been gone a while due to school issues and privilages. My nation of half-orcs is back in action now, though.

“We are receiving attention, my lady.” Rijar whispered softly and drew Tatiana’s attention to the approaching Muktar delegation. Tatiana needed a second to realise that the skin color of the approaching man was natural and not some form of skin painting but that surprise was nothing compared to almost relieving realization that the man was a warrior.

‘Finally.’ It’s good to know I’m not alone here…. As Karak introduced himself to her and held out his hand, Tatiana reached out by went past his hand to grab the wrist; It might be a tad unformal for one of her position but a warrior’s greeting was something she had not been able to indulge in for far to long. The firmness with which her fingers held Karak’s wrist made it clear that even with her retiring from the Jaiden forces she still held onto her prime physical condition.

“Greetings, Karak; representative of Muktar. I am Tatiana Taurain, Empress of the Second Empire. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Before she had a chance to say anything else however the lights in the room darkened and Rijar immediatly positioned himself between Tatiana and the rest of the room ready to face any possible danger that might present itself. Fortunatly the man's fears were proven untrue and the two watched as Mordenkainen and Bigbi entered the room through the portal and welcomed them all to Omeldor-1.

Beatrice inclined her head to His Excellency and Arcturus once more. "Thank you. I am warmed at the courtesy with which I have been received by yourselves and by Sisgardia generally."

She arched a brow slightly at Iphthea. "I am not an Elf." she corrected gently.

Meanwhile, Casesplitter returned carrying a briefcase. He approached the delegates from CairnTarra and bowed deeply. "Good evening."

[Bump?]

Taurevanimë just ignored Iphthea's commets, seeing clearly that the woman was drunk. Though admititly it was rather amusing, but she didn;t show she thought so.
She smiled when Mordenkainen and Bigbi arrived though, finding their magic to be powerful, but anything but subtle. As Mordenkainen spoke she listened attentivly to each of his words. When he was done Taurevanimë strode forward to him and bowed slightly. “Finally we meet Lord Mordenkainen. I have heard much about you and I see that indeed you are well versed in the arts of magic.”

Teo doubled over in blinding pain as the two mages emerged from the porthole, Ebrihon caught his colligue, though his eyes were transfixed on the porthole with horror. Somn had his back turned on the event but his eyes gleamed with the fear of the unknown corrupting force that every tarran child was taught about, manifest and creeping up behind him. He turned to see the porthole gone and boath mages surrounded by well wishers and sighed. 'This night is awash with sin and wonder.'
Teo began to correct himself, his sight and balance returning though the pain in his head did not seem to relent. Ebrihon let him stand by himself.
'What happened?'
'I.. have no idea... but i can say... i am not surprised...' He paused 'Somn.. feyborn!'
Somn turned round to see Casesplitter approaching, leather amour and a briefcase, an odd sight indeed.

"Good evening."

Somn returned the bow but seemed somehow nervous about taking his eyes off the man, an old tarran saying went 'armor was never far from weapons', perhaps this mans briefcase was his weopn. Somn knew the system, or at least he had been trained in it, he swallowed his fear.
Nemh Onóir, well met. I am Ardseanaadóir Somn Waldorf-Treeborn of Cairn Tarra, it is an honor to speak with you.'

Beatrice glided behind Taurevanime, inclining her head politely to the two men who had stepped through the portal. She smiled lightly, silent for the moment. Her white, sightless eyes seemed to look few and past the two men.

Casesplitter laughed lightly. "I am Nagelfar Casesplitter and I hardly see any reason it would be too much of an honor to speak with me. I am a simple attendant."

He set the briefcase on a nearby chair, starting to open it. "My lady could...not help but overhear parts of your conversation. We did not come here as religious missionaries but the matter touches the heart of every believing Danaan deeply enough that my lady could not leave the matter without comment of any sort. I thought that some of our older texts might interest you. They were written by those who had direct contact with the Tuatha de Danaan before they departed this world. Some of them even fought in the War of Trees."

ooc: Sorry its been a while since I've posted, been busy getting ready to redeploy, I thougt I'd slip this in using fluid time...


ic: When the Pilonese delegation was greeted by The Count and Arcturus Pilias Simber thanked them for inviting the Pilonese to the Omeldor-1.

"We have been awaiting this project's completion with a bit of impatience and are indeed glad that it is finally finished. The assembly is still divided on exactly how many Pilonese we will be sending up here but the two main opposing views range a number between 1-5% of our total population being moved up here, once we know for sure how many we will send we will let you know how many domes we need, but we shouldn't need more than 3, probably will only need 1 or 2. We see this as an opportunity to be more actively involved in our fellow SFN member's lives and give us a more visible presence.
I know that there is a tendancy in Sisgardia for the landdwellers to forget about our underwater nation except when it comes to buying medical or biological supplies."

Upon finishing their conversation the Pilonese representatives went about conversing with the various representatives and studying the Omeldor-1.

Casesplitter laughed lightly. "I am Nagelfar Casesplitter and I hardly see any reason it would be too much of an honor to speak with me. I am a simple attendant."

He set the briefcase on a nearby chair, starting to open it.

"My lady could...not help but overhear parts of your conversation. We did not come here as religious missionaries but the matter touches the heart of every believing Danaan deeply enough that my lady could not leave the matter without comment of any sort. I thought that some of our older texts might interest you. They were written by those who had direct contact with the Tuatha de Danaan before they departed this world. Some of them even fought in the War of Trees."



Somn was a bit worried, he knew Teo was ok – or at least, not dead, but he had not introduced himself and taken the reigns of the conversation, Somn dared not look round for fear of seeming uncomfortable. Perhaps Teo was testing him.

“We are all in debt to you. Tarran history is a fractured and broken collection of writings and tales, the sum total of all that survived the second Schism, the war that forced us to leave our homelands. The Tuatha are named only as great teachers from the west who fought a bitter war, now even some of that seems to have been brought into doubt.”

Somn looked at the briefcase, he knew that for every one question about Lord Stone that was answered this night, twenty more would be asked and unresolved.

Caseplitter pulled out a thick book entitled The Holy Scriptures, which he handed to Somn. "Most of these were written while the Tuatha were in the world. Many of them tell of their deeds and the deeds of their children. However, since you can't read the entire thing now, I'd be willing to talk about it with you."

Somn flicked through the pages, picking out some sentence fragments, nothing profound. He used the moments to sort out what he needed to know about the Tuatha, as the book would contain what the Seventh need.

'I... don't. know where to start... I suppose I should start at the end' he picked through some words at the end of the book, for effect.
'You mentioned the War of Trees, we have legends called the Founding Wars, the Tuatha left after them. All we know is that they left almost instantaneously.'

Teo and Ehbrion were standing a short distance behind the two, Teo was still nearly crippled with pain, which was gradually fading. Ehbrion cast concerned glances over at Somn now and again. He took a small crystal from his pocket and squeezed it tightly, it glowed green. at least Stormcaller is still here

Casesplitter nodded. "Both the Tuatha and their Fomorian enemies left the world immediately following the War of Trees, although even the Scriptures are somewhat vague about the details."