NationStates Jolt Archive

[OOC: This is completely open, although I don't know why someone would post here, seeing as this has little to do with international politics. Rather, this is more of a storyline for Fedor I, as I've decided to start roleplaying a little differently. Instead of focusing on expanding role plays with more nations, like A Passion Play, I'm going to begin little novelettes, and this is one such novelette. Hope you enjoy, and please, tag what you will, and comment as long as its constructive criticism.]

The rythmic drumbeats of war could be heard from Fedala. It was as if hell had finally been linked with the real world. Indeed, the artillery fire from the south had made the entire city submerge itself into a deep isolation, and the sounds of guns to the west had scared the local population even more. It truly seemed as if Fedor's reign had unleashed the mighty gods that had once resided over the Empire, two thousand years before, and pushed them to punish the believers who believed no longer. This war promised to be rather long, rather punishing, and rather violent, but it would not stop Fedor from his private life, and it would not stop him from ruling over his Empire with pride, dignity and responsibility.

He had designed a relief of sorts, and had invited the nobility of the Empire, except those of Dienstand, which had mostly been killed by Heinrich, to a very formal dinner party. He hoped that the airstrocracy of the state would focus on something else than on Fedor's current weakness. Such administrative strategies had worked before, and it was true that this was taken out of Louis XIV's book. But consequently, Fedor was absolutely sure that it would work just as well as it had in France, especially when he began his grand building projects, scheduled for when the war end, paid in the blood of Havenite and rebel prisoners.

The dance was held within the Imperial Palace of Fedala, built along with the rest of the central part of the city, five years ago, under the reign of Jonach I. It was majestic, and its baroque architecture mixed with neo-classical based designs made it amongst the most beautiful buildings in the world. Indeed, it seemed as if it had been a grand mixture between what could be found in Madrid, St. Petersburg and Vienna. Built in the heart of the city it would house the Imperial family for the rest of its existance, which was hoped that it would last as long as the old Empire had, two thousand years.

There were some two thousand people in attendance, all of them noble by birth, perhaps not by intentions. There were older ladies and gentlemen, and then there were younger ones, including the daughters of many prestigious noble families which had existed centuries before the Catalan dynasty had even arisen to power. One such family was Count Siegfried, once the powerful king of Soborguntia, which had by now been gobbled up in the depths of time. Soborguntia had not existed since its incorporation into Weigar by the laws of Jonach, the man who had settled the Great Civil War only fifteen years before. Now, with Weigar in full rebellion, Fedor hoped that Siegfriend would be willing to cooperate with Fedor in the pacification of the old Soborguntia, which would be one step towards the pacification of the entire Weigar Provence. Not only that, but the seventeen year old daughter of the man was the most beautiful woman the nineteen year old emperor had ever seen.

With her large, pale green eyes, and her tightly fit curves, her dress made her seem a model, although it resembled something out of the old courts of the Victorian kings and queens. She wasn't of Germanic blood, but neither was Fedor, a common misconception amongst some, thinking that because the Empire was Germanic so was their rulers. She was indeed something else, most likely latin of some sort. Fedor was Spanish, and so latin fit him well.

He himself was a very attractive man. He was six foot tall, no more, no less, and his legs and arms were strongly built, making him look like a powerful man. When he was younger, and still prince, he was infamous for his abilities to impress the girls, and he was jealously watched by his closest friends.

He sighed to himself. She was nowhere in sight, although he had seen Count Siegfried. He would at some point ask where his daughter was, but for now he would have to be content with the other guests, very needy of his attention. Lady Karina turned to him, and with her sweet voice she begged of him his attention,"Your majesty, you look so good tonight, as always."

Fedor looked at her in a pleasant way. She was attractive as well, albeit at least twenty-five, but she was not the daughter of the count, and that's all he had his mind set on. Nonetheless, he responded,"Lady Karina, thank you. You are as pleasant as always, and as attractive as a swan. I trust that you are having a great time with us here tonight? If not, I would be forced to make sure you did."

She laughed at this blatant comment, and she continued,"Yes, I think you should." Fedor smiled, his touch never faltered, and she went on,"However, tonight I have politics to discuss with you."

The emperor's eyes narrowed and he answered vainly,"And what might that be?"

Noticing his stone cold response, she was at first slow with her words,"Well, your majesty, it seems that the nobility of Sarcanza is prepared to defect to the rebels, and the nobility of Weigar, as you know, have refused to attend tonight's dinner."

Fedor smirked,"They know very well the consequences of their actions. In the end, based on their decision, they will be dead or alive. That is all for now. I have some real business to attend to. But first, you tell those who forced you to come up to me, that if they are disloyal they will die. It has always been like this. I am not one to change tradition."

She swallowed the smile she had wore as a facade all night, and turned around solemnly. It looked as if, despite the dinner, the Empire was not as stable as one could have thought, even as the guns went off in the background. Regardless, the emperor continued to hunt for his prey.

He found her with a few of her friends, and he motioned her to pull away. She did as he told, rather willingly, and she fell upon him, gleefully saying,"Your majesty, what could want with the likes of a Soborguntian countess like me?"

He smiled at her, pushing her hair back. They had met before, and this was not as strange as it felt, but it was the first time they had met in public. Hopefully, tonight they would reveal their plans. Perhaps, perhaps not, depending on how the count reacted to the rest of the news. Nonetheless, tonight was their night, and he lead her by the hand to the dance floor.

Tonight would not be a night of war, but of peace, love and serenity.

On the dance floor Fedor treated her like a princess, but they're more important conversation drowned out the orchestra to their rear. Fedor narrowed his look on her, and she explained what she had blurted out tactlessly before,"Look Fedor, my father is not your friend, neither does he want to be. If we tell him of our plans he will lock me up, and he will opress me, and I am not strong enough to take that sort of punishment."

Fedor, enraged, retorted,"I sit on the Golden Throne. Your father's position depends on me! He will have to accept."

The young countess, saddened, simply replied,"He thinks you have lost the war. He thinks soon Heinrich will sit on the throne, even if its a throne with much reduced power, including the independence of Soborguntia."

Fedor almost spat at the disloyalty of the woman's father, but he contained himself and quickly regained composure. Looking at her in a much more respectful way he lowered his voice, and gracefully said,"Sophie, was it not you who told me that love could not be replaced? That you had to do what your heart told you to do? Follow your own philisophy, please. I will lose this war if I have to fight it without you. I love you, and no one can change that fact. Please, he will not be near you to punish you if you are my queen."

Sophie blused and nodded,"Yes, of course. But please Fedor, give me a bit more time to deal with my father. Although you are an emperor, he is a count, and he does have some power."

Fedor looked away, but murmured,"Very well."

He slowly let go of her grasp, and he seperated himself from her to talk to some other guests. All the while, Count Siegfried looked at the couple with some confusion in his eyes. He rose himself from his seated position at the table, and then bent down and excused himself from his wife and the others he was seated with. He made his way slowly to Fedor, but when he arrived to speak with the emperor his words were ruthless,"Fedor, you in my eyes are not an emperor. At nineteen you are still a child to me. You will lose your throne, so please, do not bring my daughter down with you."

Fedor turned from speaking with another lord, who had turned away at such a heated exchange, and lashed the count with his tongue,"How dare you speak to your superior in this way, disloyal scum? The only thing holding you to your position is your daughter, so hold that in account."

The count scoffed and retorted,"We'll see about that." He then briskly turned around and walked away, the other guests looking at both in shocked suprise. Fedor smiled at them, and too turned around, heading out of the ballroom, and most likely to his room. The dinner, for the night, was over for him. Walking through the vast hallways of his palace he made little impression on the servants walking around, who they themselves stopped to greet their master. He simply continued without paying the most minimal attention to the rest. He was, indeed, furious, at both Siegfried and Sophie - he was a tyrant, and she was weak spirit. But Fedor considered himself the saviour; Sophie's messiah - and with that in mind, he would act as such.

He made it to his room within around twenty minutes, and he immediately made his way to his rather large window, formed by a single French doorway, leading to an even larger balcony. Stepping onto the balcony's marble platform he rested himself on the beautifully designed railguard, and looked to his front. Before him, in full masjesty, was the foundations of his first major project as Emperor of the Golden Throne. From here he could see the Grand Cathedral of the Broken Dawn, built ten years before until the rule of Jonach, but soon that view would be clouded by something grander.

It would be a gigantic white cross, rising to around five hundred feet, built of pure stone and marble, of course, with steel supports, dedicated to the love of his life, Sophie. It would be a modern pyramid - where he and she would be buried after their deaths. The cross itself was located on top of one of the largest hills of Fedala, now an Imperial garden, and that hill itself would undergo massive reforms. Within it, forged purely from the rock of the mountain, would be the Imperial Basilica, dedicated to not only himself and Sophie, but to those who died for God and the Throne in the wars fought under his rule, which would be many if Fedor succeeded in his way.

He smiled at the thoughts of the future. It was, indeed, a bright future, and he would be the center of it - of course, if everything went to plan, he would be the center of international politics. But for now he had to focus on the most simple desire; Sophie.

Tag

A week after the dinner party at the Imperial Palace he held yet another festivity, the annual Imperial Ball, in which every single lord and lady of the land would come to attend, and even some of the lesser promenaders who dressed like nobles, but generally lacked the titles. Regardless, it was considered one of the highest festivities in terms of class, and you had to have money in order to attend. Indeed, it had been the sign of the nobility and wealth of the Empire for the last four hundred years, save a century which was spent fighting the deadly Great Civil War. There were some one thousand people who attended the dinner party, but there were at least eight thousand who attended the Imperial Ball.

Fedor came in a more approproate attire this time, garbed in his Imperial white military uniform, his entire left breast covered with a string of metals and ribbons, and the one he which was especially loved by him was his Golden Wreath, given to him by the King of the Macabee Kingdom during the war with Malgeria, where he had pushed back a Trocowkowian attack on his armored platoon on the beachead of Kzir Island. He remembered those days with exactitude, and the amount of dead he had saw would always stay with him, including the smells and touches. It was grizzly, but it had made him into the man he was today, and he was prepared to offer the same chance to the rest of the youth of the Empire.

He walked into the ball fashionably late, although he was the host, and he immediately began looking for Sophie. It took about an hour to find her, and it took the time to talk to much of the guests, trying to push their views through the Emperor. However, he failed to pay attention to those power lovers, and he slowly, but surely, made his way to Sophie. When he finally saw her, with her back turned, he walked up to her and placed the palm of his hand around her neck, stroking it. She whipper her head back and looked at him, smiling.

They were both quiet for a second or two, but then she opened her blood red lips and said,"Fedor, my love, I am ready."

He smiled as well, at first saying nothing. Inside, his heart beat as if he was in the midst of a battle, and he felt a tingling sensation he had never felt before, and he then responded,"And your father?"

She continued to smile and simply answered,"I no longer care. I love you, and I want to marry you."

Fedor laughed,"No. This isn't right. Follow me, please." Fedor and Sophie made their way through the string of dancers and others making conversation, and he led her out of the ball, through one of the other doors, guarded by huge, hurly Waffen-SS soldiers. They ended up in a smaller room, although he continued on to yet another room, which was even smaller. There he stopped her, and he turned around to face her, dropping to his knees. Reaching within a pocket inside his jacket, he took out a box, embroidered in pure gold, and opened it. She gasped, and he nodded his head.

Reaching for the ring, she took it out, and placed it on her finger, saying,"it's beautiful Fedor. Is this a diamond? I have never dreamt of anything like this. You shouldn't have!"

Fedor shook his head and retorted,"There are no boundaries between my love and you. Please, Sophie, marry me."

Sophie blushed and responded,"Of course my love."

Fedor stood once again, and his final words were,"In two months you shall be Empress Sophie, second empress of the Golden Throne, heir to Empress Hypolita, wife of Emperor Jonach I."

With that, they returned to the ball, and made their night as special as it could be. It finally ended with a happy note, and when all were ready to leave, at around two in the morning, Fedor made his announcement. As he stood to the lector, Count Siegfriend gave him a cold hard stare, and Fedor froze. How dare the Count of Soborguntia, a vassel to Fedala, look at him like that. Fedor was as determined as ever, and he was able to recompose himself, and with a booming voice he declared,"In two months, Sophie Allermagne, daughter of Count Siegfried of Soborguntia, and I, will marry within the halls of the Grand Cathedral of the Broken Dawn. All those who attended this ball tonight are invited to the evening, and to the proceeding dinner and ball. Thank you all."

The six thousand or so people crowded within the building gave a big cheer, and they hailed Fedor as the greatest emperor of the Golden Throne of all times. All save Count Siegfried, who stormed his way towards Sophie, and found that she was missing, and then he stormed outside of the palace, called for his Massaratti, and made his way, not to his room, but to Soborguntia itself. He had been outmanuevered, and now Soborguntia would never find itself independent from the Golden Throne, until, perhaps, Sophie died. And no father was insane enough to kill his daughter - no father.

For the rest of the month Fedor would spend his time preparing for the wedding. Pope Transguff already knew of the wedding, and he himself had reserved the day solely for the Imperial family. The church had also designated the seating, and had decided that foreign dignintaries would sit in the front, while the nobles of the Empire would set in the middle and the rear. Wealthy promenaders could stand, or they could wait outside with the rest of the citizenry of Fedala and the Empire. Nonetheless, it would be a grand day. A grand day, indeed. The Empire would soon have its queen.

[OOC: *TAG* And pure gold is too soft for jewelry.]

Invitation to Foreign Dignitaries

Greetings,

Emperor of the Golden Throne Fedor I, house of Catalan, and Sophie Allermagne, heir apparent of Count Siegfreid of Soborguntia, are to be married within the Grand Cathedral of the Broken Dawn, under the supervision of Pope Transguff and God himself. It is to say, the emperor will soon have an empress, and the Empire will be complete.

Consequently, all foreign leaders that wish to witness the union of man and wife are hereby invited to Fedala, and to the Grand Cathedral. Your aircraft should come through the western approaches, and land at the International Airport of Fedala, which will be under extreme guard. Avoid the eastern approaches, where a huge battle is now taking place, and may advance as the time passes.

Regardless, the situation has been decided to be safe, and we are very eager to see most of you attend the wedding. Remember, it is in two months.

[signed]Imperial Family

[OOC: You can post that you're going to come. But the wedding isn't going to actually happen until late Page 2 or early Page 3, so don't rush. There's still a bunch of other stuff that's going to happen. Thanks for the cooperation.]

Fedor put his head in between his hands, frustrated at the recent evens sorrounding the Noddestan island deal. He had a war at home, and now it seemed that the bidding had gone violent, pushing Swedish Dominions to mobilize a small number of units for deployment to occupy said islands. Unfortunately for both sides, the Golden Throne had placed a bidding for the first and fifth island of the same chain, and while the fifth had been sold, it had then been re-sold, and then Fedor had given them a bid they could not say no too. It seemed some of the smaller economies had gone desperate.

With him putting most of his efforts trying to stop the Havenite advance towards Mosnoi Bor, and saving his throne at the same time, he could not truly put enough effort into the Noddestani Crisis, although he would not let those islands be taken. The Empire, under no circumstances, could be put to shame in that fashion, and thus he had given the green light for the deployment of thirty submarines in the area, and soon enough a division of infantry with a rather large battle group. Things were getting hot and sweaty, but the Empire, regardless of the pressure put on it, would not back down, and Swedish Dominions would soon find that out - islands one and five were for the Empire, and the Empire only.

He rose his neck again, his face red from rubbing against his arms and palms, and he pushed his seat back, getting up. He walked to the window and looked at his grand building project, again feeling better. He found solace in what he did at home. His grandfather had only had one building project, and it was in Macabea, and it was nowhere near as large or as glorious as what Fedor was beginning to construct. He leaned against the window sill and thought to himself. This would be just the first of many projects that would soon beautify Fedala and make it the most beautiful city in the world. He had much planned, including a rebuilt palace, and an imperial opera house, which would overshadow anything ever built before. He smiled. He would be known as one of the most important rulers of the Second Empire, and even of both Empires.

After taking about ten minutes to look over the project, listening to the workers grunt and wail, he closed the window and went back to his desk. He sat down and opened a manila folder marked WEDDING. An array of pictures spilled out, showing the Cathedral, and where all would be sitting. It would be a beautiful wedding, yet nobody yet had even cared to respond to his invitations. Was the Empire really that unimportant? He scoffed, it did not matter - soon his name, and that of the Golden Throne, would be known internationally.

Now, he had three problems on his head, though, and he could not erase that. The War of Golden Succession was sucking out money and men, and then his wedding with Sophie was costing money and time, while the perhaps to come war in Noddistan would put the fronts in the Empire in jeopardy - indeed, one division could mean the war. He sighed and resolved himself to begin working on this another day, for now he was tired.

[A glorified bump]

Sophie put her head down as she entered Soborguntia's Royal Palace, once home to King Siegfreid of Soborguntia, and now home to Count Siegfreid. It had always been sign of defeat and tragedy to the family since Soborguntia's surrender to the Macabee Kingdom, which had finally reunited the Golden Throne into a true empire. Sophie's father, Siegfreid, looked sternly upon her, mouth twisted in an utmost ugly fashion, and he wryly said,"You'll be sleeping within the tower tonight Sophie."

She lookd up at him in pain, her eyes watering, and she exclaimed,"Why don't you let me marry? I love him! Can't you not see that?" The tower. She passed the words through her head and after every pass it made her eyes water a bit more. The tower meant imprisonement. There was no escape from the tower. Sophie's mother had been locked there, and there she died, hanging herself from the only window of the room, hanging for the whole city to see her.

Siegfreid laughed and retorted,"He is a political enemy. Soborguntia has now joined Weigar in the rebellion. Your marriage to him would spit in my face, and would throw away everything I have worked for regarding a liberated Soborguntia!" It was true. Her marriage to Fedor would unite the people to Fedor, and might have even affected those in Weigar who held Count Siegfreid dearly.

She turned her head, and head up the staircase, followed by the guards. She would walk into her imprisonment, and hopefully Fedor would love her enough to come to get her - or she would try to escape. The latter was thought to be impossible, but Sophie had a way to get out sticky ruts, and perhaps she could devise something rather inventive this time - perhaps. She continued to think of her immediate future as she made her way towards the tower, and once there she sulked deeper into subconcious thought until finally she entered her room in the tower, and she was locked in.

Throwing herself upon the bed she began to cry into the pillow, but that ended quickly. She got back up, eyes red from the pressure of her tears, and she walked to the window, looking down upon the city of Soborguntia. She rubbed the walls of the palace, where her mom's body had once banged repeadetly when the slipknot broke her neck. She still remembered that day as if it was yesterday. She had lost all hope in her father, and knew of his tyranny with those he claimed to love. It would be a long fall, but she almost preferred that than to face not being with Fedor ever again.

She turned back to the door, and then back to her bed, and sighed. Then she noticed the doors had not yet been completely locked, although two guards stood outside, keeping a perpetual eye on the count's daughter. She politely knocked on the door, and one of the guards opened it wider, looking inside. Kicking him in the genitals she took his ceremonial sword, there more for show than for use, and she swiped at the other guard, slashing through his stomach in one, and then she finished off the first guard by driving the blade into his neck. The sword portruded through his throat, blood spurting all over the ground, and she left it there, instead reaching for the other dead guard's sword. She may have been seventeen but she had been taught how to fence and how to fight, like all nobility should know within the Empire.

Running through the tower, she began to work down the central stairway, hoping her father had left the central entrance of the palace, which was united to the tower by the stairway she had first dogedly sulked up. Within ten minutes she had been where she first was, and she saw no sign of her father, although several guards did catch note of her, screaming to stop her. She didn't allow them anything in the way of time, and menancingly swinging her sword she bought enough time to make it to the entrance hallway, leading to the palace door. Flinging them wide open, revealing another two guards, and then the courtyard of the palace, she moved rapidly, striking the two men down, and then running to the royal stables.

There, she took the best stead, black and beautiful, and made her way out of the palace, and then out of Soborguntia. It would be a hard ride to Fedala, but she would be there within the week, and although those in Soborguntia might not be amicable to her, she knew that when entered official Imperial territory, she would receive all the help she could get. At least, that's what she hoped for.

She had been imprisoned for minutes, and in those minutes she knew she would not end up like her mother. An hour later, she was headed towards her wedding...

[Bump, just because it was moved - thanks Euroslavia for your kind services. I.I. doesn't seem to like long, unbelligerent threads.]

[Damn, why do other weddings get such wide attendance?]

OoC: If you'd dropped me a note earlier eh?

IC:

Colonel Firen flipped through his copy of the Gierling Courant, articles about local happenings where not what he was interested in, but things such as military reports and interviews where. A full two page spread about the Internal Security Forces caught his eyes briefly, studying the pictures made of the militia as they conducted house to house searches in Malas City for rebels and weapon caches.
On page three he found what he was looking for; a interview which was marked by a half a page capturing picture of a man in his mid thirties wearing a DDF uniform. Firen studied the picture; indeed they had taken one of the best pictures he had provided and he settled down in his chair for a relaxing read.
"I'm sorry to disturb you Colonel Firen, but we are approaching Fedala airport...." Firen looked up, disturbed from his reading at the young air force officer standing next to his chair and sighed, throwing the newspaper down on the small airplane table. "Very well, have our escorts clear the way and stand ready to deploy my staff platoon once we land."

"As you wish, sir!" The officer saluted, clicked his heels together and marched in the direction of the cockpit leaving Firen to think over his encounter which he would have with Lady Erica, daughter of the Emperor who was the current Ambassador to the Macabees. "This is your captain speaking, we will be landing at Fedala international shortly please fasten your seatbelts and put your chairs in an upright position..." Firen sighed, hoping that the two rookies in the cockpit had contacted Fedala tower before landing...


This is DRA flight #45, carrying Colonel Firen as an envoy, requesting permission to land at once Fedala Tower, we are nearing bingo fuel due to anti aircraft fire and detours.

Also requesting runways or landing facilities for one large transport aircraft and nine escorting Raven VTOL fighters.

[Damn, why do other weddings get such wide attendance?]

OOC: Honestly? I think everyone's intimidated by the long, well-written poses. I think people look at them, and think 'Why should I post here? I'm not going to stand out.' That, and it makes it seem like a Fiction, more than something we other nations can get in on.

IC:

"Mr. President! Approaching Macabee airspace!"

More composed national leaders would have had a message relayed to them by note, instead of by voice-to-ear relay from the flight deck. However, in a nation like Triancia, sometimes the Chief Executive liked a little excitement in the normal proceedings.

President Stanton looked out the window, and spotted a FAS-12 'Raptor', one of four TAF planes that were pulling a long endurance flight to protect the President. They would be leaving the Presidential Air Craft in normal situations, but with a war going on in the East, these planes would follow them in, land, and follow them out.

In any case, the President figured, he had a few minutes before they landed. Might as well read up on the current events in the Macabee Kingdom.

"Fedala International, Fedala International, this is Red-Tail One, Triancian Air Force. Requesting landing clearance for this aircraft and escort flight."

The Group Captain clicked over to the escort's channel. "Hawk Lead, Red-Tail One. Remind your flight that this is a civilian airport, so you'd better land like Cessnas! No buzzing the tower, no tailing civil aircraft, and absolutely no light-ups! Understand?"

"Red-Tail One, Hawk Lead. You gotta suck the fun out of everything, Cath?"

An inarticulate growl was all it took to get the cocky fighter jockeys to shut up.

[OOC: Sorry, I was listening to Wicked by Korn, so I just had to add the lyrics into this post.]

The Fedala International Airport meteologist had been tasked with the duty of landing the aircraft until the rest of the tower crew returned from lunch, and as the rookie he took the time to his advantage, normally inviting his girlfriend over for the hour he had alone, and putting on the music as loud as he could, since nobody on his floor was there, and the building was basically soundproof through the floors. Consequently, if one were to stumble into the room they would see him and his girlfriend on the tower manager's seat getting it on while the series of speakers blasted,"Wicked and I come with the wicked style, and you know that I'm from the wicked crew, you act like you knew, But I got everybody jumping to the voodoo.."

Suddenly the girl, fully naked, turned around to look at the instrumentations and then turned back around to yell at her boyfriend,"You hear something?"

The boyfriend shook his head and then grabbed her to bring her back on him and she acted as if nothing had happened. The radio communication system against muffled something and the girlfriend's face distorted in confusion and she repeated,"I really think I heard something."

The guy replied,"Who cares baby. Let's just keep this between you and me."

While the music pounded in the background the two continued to do their thing, but finally the muffled voice through the radio got a bit louder and the boyfriend startled, pushing his girlfriend away, who got off him, walking through the tower relatively clothesless. Turning down the music, he grabbed for the radio at the same time, and he said,"Please repeat, over"

The muffled voice came back, not so muffled, and he heard,"This is DRA flight #45, carrying Colonel Firen as an envoy, requesting permission to land at once Fedala Tower, we are nearing bingo fuel due to anti aircraft fire and detours. Also requesting runways or landing facilities for one large transport aircraft and nine escorting Raven VTOL fighters."

As he was about to reply he then heard,"Fedala International, Fedala International, this is Red-Tail One, Triancian Air Force. Requesting landing clearance for this aircraft and escort flight."[/i]

Giving a sigh of relief that it wasn't his boss he gave the two flights their instructions,"DRA flight #45, you are to land first, so go ahead and make it now. There are six smaller runways about six hundred meters from the main runway in which your aircraft can make their landing. If they are VTOL they can do it near the end. Over"

With Dumpsterdam's flight taken care of he looked at the wide array of aircraft sightings on his liquid crystal displays screen in front of him and pin pointed Triancia's flight, and then he changed radio frequency to reply to their request,"Flight red-tail-one, your main aircraft is to make it's landing in five minutes, behind flight #45. Escprt flight to land in seven minutes on airfields six hundred meters away from the main runway. Over."

He looked at the schedule list and saw that none of the aircraft were scheduled, and he cursed to himself. He looked at his girlfriend, who understood the look, and she went to putting on her clothes, and so did he. These guys were here for a reason. Who the hell was Colonel Firen? He then smacked his head and remembered that the emperor was to be married in some days. However, he wasn't briefed on how to handle the situation so he called his overseer, who told him he would take care of the situation.

The overseer, Mr. Kutlin, immediately took his private phone and contacted both aircraft, telling them both the same thing,"You will be met at your aircraft with a staircase to disembark, as well as a series of limosuines, depending on the size of your entourage, and you will be taken to your quarters within the Imperial Palace. Welcome to Fedala ladies and gentlemen."

[OOC: The wedding will begin in a few posts...I have to finish up how Sophie gets to Fedala on horseback, which will take a few twists and turns I think, and then we'll go right ahead and get the two younglings married.]

The jet's wheels scraped the tarmac, sending a shock through its passengers as it slowly grinded to a halt at the end of the runway. It was a mere miracle that the idiots in the cockpit had managed to get it here and let alone land it in one piece, Colonel Firen decided he would have a healthy talk with one of his colleagues at the Royal Air force about employing rookies on such a hazardous mission.

The two white robed ladies sitting on the seats to his left stood up, their robes revealing little but the fact that they where armed and armoured. One of them proceeded to the door, pulling the lever and allowing the ground crew to hook up the staircase while the other one waited for Colonel Firen until he had removed himself from his seat and walked for the door.

As promised there where was only one limousine, Colonel Firen, his aide and his two bodyguards got in but asked the driver to delay.
The transporter landed a few minutes later, being driven to the same parking strip as the jet and the fighters to unload its platoon of DDF regulars and vehicles. Soon as Firen spotted the first of his men he gave the driver permission to take them to the palace, it was an officers duty to care for his men and make sure they where alright, even on diplomatic missions.
He plugged in his earpiece and listened in on the communications around the airfield, hopefuly the drive would not be a long one...

The Group Captain on Red Tail One looked over to the co-pilot. "Huh. Bit of a delay." She frowns, and checks her landing slope again. "Delays with Air Traffic Control aren't good."

The Wing Commander opposite her gave a grin. "Lighten up, Cathy! Not like there fucking each other in the control tower."

"They don't pay me to avoid paranoia." The Group Captain responds, before turning around, and relaying her message to the man outside.
------
"We've got clearance, Mr. President! Landing in ten minutes!"

President Stanton nodded. "Inform Captain Harrow and his men. No dignitaries at the airport, so they're going to have to ride with us. Let's try to spread them out." The President then turned to the head of his security detail. "Frank, you and the others ready?"

Frank shrugged. "Always ready, sir. Nervous as hell, though. All these high-value targets... Someone has to blow up something.

The President grinned. "C'mon! This is a wedding! We don't want to ruin the moment with pessimistic attitudes." He stands up. "I'm sure things will be fine."
-------
The aircraft lands with a few bumps, and makes quick work of breaking. It isn't even fully stopped, however, as the Triancian air crew opens the door, and gestures for the stair way to be brought into place. The President disembarks, followed by four men of his security detail, three assistants, and 10 Royal Triancian Marines, in ceremonial dress, with semi-automatic rifles, looking, for all intents and purposes, out of place and embarrassed. They move into the cars as fast as they can, and waste no time in heading to the palace. The less time you lingered, the less time the enemy had to aim at you.

http://www.aeci.es/unesco/patrimonio/cmadrid3.jpg

The limosuines were entirely armored, and most likely than not Triancia and Dumpsterdam would be escorted by infantry personnel vehicles and the like. The Empire did not have a history of terrorism, but with the War of Golden Succession heating up, especially by recent advances made by Havenite forces near Mosnoi Bor, nobody could even tell anylonger. Regardless, the rides to the Imperial Palace of Fedala would be largely uneventful, moving through the rugged streets of the capital city, sorrounded by at the very least ten story flats. It was an interesting city, and very European in style - looking much like the home city of the Jonach I, Madrid. Fedor had carried on with his grandfather's city designs, and most expanded communities resembled that of the center as well, which hosted facades designed in the 18th century, and constructions out of steel and stone, making them much sturdier and such in the events of fire, which were the only real hazards one might face in Fedala.

The two convoys moved seperately, away from each other, to give each the idea of preference. However, they both took the same relative route, only each one in a different direction. There were sixteen principle freeways in Fedala, each going in a circle around a certain portion of the city, and each was built under the ground. Everything above them was pure garden, making Fedala amongst the most beautiful cities in the world. The freeways were linked by small highways, or sometimes tollroads, and finally each convoy made it to the smallest freeway, the IH-1, which finally let them out above ground near the Imperial gardens, a very big tourist attraction.

Most of those lining the sidewalks gazed at the huge convoy emerging from an off ramp from the IH-1, and as car after car followed each other, and then finally infantry fighting vehicles, their mouths got larger and larger. The two convoys finally met up near the end of their travels, within the imperial courtyard of the palace [picture above], which was closed off to the wandering eyes of tourist and such. There, imperial servants politely led them out of their cars, and then led them to their rooms. Triancia and Dumpsterdam had safely made it to the Imperial Palace, now it was time to wait to see if anybody else was interested in attending the Imperial wedding.

[OOC: Glorrified bump...]

Sophie had spent the week galloping her way to Fedala, with her father's guards in hot pursuit. She studied the irony of the situation of Soborguntia, where her father's increasingly anti-Imperial policies were turning the territory into a medieval haven. Indeed, she was being chased by knights, five hundred years since the death of the middle ages! It was ludicrous, and this marriage to Fedor would most likely be able to reverse that. She too thought about her marriage, and although she loved Fedor dear, she also had political motives behind the marriage. Her being Empress and Queen, and consequently, not just duchess of Soborguntia but Princess of Soborguntia, would persuade Fedor to keep Soborguntia as a territory, instead of just adding it to Fedala's territorial lands.

It was difficult to explain to anybody foreign how the Empire worked within itself. Although it was perhaps one of the most modern countries in terms of technology and politics in the region, it still followed with many feudal charactiristics. For example, the territories formed provences, which were owned by whoever sat on the Golden Throne, not to Fedala. However, those territories formed provences not through the administration's organization of territories, but through political alliances. Meaning, provences normally followed the political spectrum, although since the rise of Jonach and the modernization of the country's political system things were becoming much more stable. However, there was still the threat that Fedor would force Soborguntia to declare allegiance to the city of Fedala, turning it over to the Imperial Territory, in which Soborguntia would lose her historical role and charactiristics; something Sophie refused to allow to happen. By marrying Fedor not only did she marry the man she loved, but she assured Soborguntia's territorial autonomy.

She entered Fedala the week after she had left the palace of Soborguntia, and alont the way most had been rather kind to her, especially when she left the territory of Soborguntia, and she entered the Imperial Provence, where all were loyal to Fedor. She did have to skirt around Mons Dei, as she saw the artillery flash in the distance, but that did not take too long, and rebel scouts failed to know where she was, although her father had warned them of her escape and her potential threat to doom the coup.

When she entered Fedala nobody truly knew who she was. Her marriage to Fedor had not yet been made public. Of course, all knew that there was a marriage of some kind, but nobody, not even the press, had seen her face. However, she had friends in Fedala, most notably the Lord of Fedala, heir to the Golden Throne if Fedor died without a blood heir, and he had promised her quarters until her wedding day. Fedor, of course, knew of her presence when she arrived, and he estatically kept the date of the wedding fixed, already giving invitations to all lords and ladies throughout the land, rebel or not, allowing them to witness his wedding and the peripheral glorification of the Empire.

Indeed, there was only three weeks until the wedding began, and already the dignintaries of two countries dear to the Empire, Dumpsterdam and Triancia, had arrived. It would be a magnificent wedding, and Fedor's reign could begin as he planned - achieving military glory by destroying the armies of Haven and of the rebels, marrying one of the most beautiful women in the world [second only to Hypolita, the [b]most[b] beautiful woman in the world], and then undergoing his technical deification, although really, only God was the true deity, underscored by the heavy presence of the Holy Church of the Broken Dawn.

Soon, the Throne would be stable again, and he would be able to extend the power of the Church, and his own power, throughout the world...

A Citation VI bearing the crest of the Hornando Dynasty ("http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b4...nandocrest.jpg") touched down lightly upon the tarmac runway of Fedala International. King Horus, clad in a black tuxedo with royal burgundy pinstripes, sat in his recliner reading a novel while drinking a glass of schapps. He looked up from the large volume, over at his attendents sitting upon a large couch. Horus took out a small cell phone and cycled through a few names on his contact list before finding the correct on. He pressed the call button and laid the phone against his ear.

"Hello, my good friend, how have you been Fedor. I have arrived at the airport. I have only seen a small piece of your nation, and I already love it. Your realm is absolutely beautiful. Anyways, I will see you when I reach the palace. Good bye." Horus pressed the red button on the cell phone and placed it back into his jacket's inner pocket. He stood up and made his way to the door-for by now the plane was at a full stop and his butler was opening the hatchway-stepped out, and took in a breath of the humid air of Fedala. As he made is way to the nearby limosine, his handservants carried his three bags and placed them in the back of the limosine, and made their way into the servant van that awaited them. His chaufer opened the door off the limosine and he stepped into the backseat.

as the limosine arrived at the front entrance of the palace, horus stepped out and the security gaurd waiting asked to see his identification card. Horus showed it to him, and the gaurd allowed him to pass, seeing the royal markings upon the ID. Horus made his way to the concierge, who directed horus to his room. Horus arrived and opened the fridge. Inside, he found a bottle of scotch, which he took with him to the small couch, and laid down to watch the noon-time news before he fell asleep.

[OOC: If you want to participate in this character roleplay, by all means role play that your delegate arrived, made his room within the Imperial Palace, and receives this consequent invitation.]


Whom all this may concern,

You have been formally invited to the first ball international ball Fedala has held in her history. The ball will feature the fiance of the Emperor, Sophie Allergmagne, Duchess of Soborguntia, but unfortunately Fedor I will not be able to attend because of duties at the front. Regardless, the ball will remain on schedule, and the official wedding day will also be released. Hopefully, if you have already made it to Fedala, you will be making it to the ball, as we would appreciate that all our guests would attend.

The event is black tie, although women can choose the dress color to wear. There will be food, drinks [alcoholic], and music by one of the best composers within the Empire, Davir Gresham. It will last from six in the afternoon to midnight and beyond.

The ball will be held within the Imperial Palace, making it quite accessible to all our guests. Indeed, all you must do is to make your way down to the first floor of the palace and then to the courtyard. From there an Imperial guard will point to the direction you need to follow. I do not suspect that you should be either late or get lost, but there are guards to courtly show you the way if such an unfortunate event does befall you.

Thank you for coming to our wedding, the first Imperial wedding in the history of the Second Empire of the Golden Throne, between His Imperial Majesty Fedor I and Duchess Sophie Allermagne.

Sophie

Horus awoke from his nap to find that he had slept through the day, and that it was now 8 o'clock at night. He took the scotch off of the nightstand, and put the still full bottle in back into the fridge. Noticing that his tuxedo was now wrinkled, he took it off and tossed it into his dirty clothes hamper. He searched through his suitcases, and finally settled on a pair of khaki pants, and the collared shirt that the Dali Lama had bought him when he visited the Hindu population of Vietnamexico.

Horus stepped outside the Palace and motioned for the valet to bring his motorcycle to the front. A golden coin flew through the air toward the young valet, and the roaring engine made its way down the street.

The king arrived at the nightclub and he stepped off the bike, and made is way into the dark interior of the neon-light building.

He king stood at the bar, drinking a pint, when a girl caught his eye. she was dancing in the center of the floor, so Horus downed the last dregs of the beer, and made his way over to her. He began to dance with her, and grabbed her waist, as she rubbed her body against his own.

The king awoke inside his bedroom with a pounding in his head. He rolled over and fell upon a thin body, which began to kiss him once he fell on top of it.

The mass of cars passed by Horus as hewalked down the Fedala street, making his way toward a cafe that he found in his week here that made authentic Hornandan cusine. The white-blue walk sign light up and Horus walked across the busy street. Stepping through the swinging door at the front of the cafe, he said his plesentries to the manager, a Muurite, whom had come to Fedala from the homeland when the muurite persecution by increased by the Darian population. Horus ordered his usal, a stuffed platter of Uni, beans and a Baba salad, with a Martini Hornando-Grey Goose vodka, Blue Curacao, and olives, stuffed with bleu cheese.

He was sipping his martini while watching the Vietnamexican News Net broadcast, the news changed from good news about the beautiful parades for St. Alfonso's Day, to horrible pictures of destruction. Horus watched further, and he almost screamed at the statement that there was an estimated 1.5 million Muurites dead becasue of the Darian destruction. He ran out of the cafe and called his minister wanting to know why he was not alerted of this.

"The Darian rebels were friends of the Hornando dynasty, it has always been tradition to overlook the persecution by them against the Muurites. I assumed that you would follow in the path of your predessesors, turn a blind eye," replied the minister, "It is not like it has not been going on before."

"I will not allow this to go on in my nation this is horrible! How dare you say that it is okay!" screamed Horus through the phone at the minister, he turned and barked at the butler nearby, "Find me the quickest flight to Vietnamexico, on the double!" Horus hesitated for a moment, "Scratch that, I will stay hear." Horus thought about why he felt it would be best to stay in Fedala, and as he thought the more he knew that he need ed to go home, but wait...there were going to be dozens of world leaders, influencial people who would help do something about the massacre. He would use them to save the Muurite populations of his land. This was his only hope, he had to find Sophia, and gain their permission to call upon the other nations assistance against the genocide...it was a longshot, but it was the only hope for the Muurites' to live another day.

The Day of the Ball

The room was packed with the nobility of the Empire and foreign dignintaries, from the leaders of Vietnamexico to those of nations the Empire had not even known of. It was simply amazing how many people had shown up for the pre-wedding ball, and unfortunately, the Emperor's pridicament at the front had stopped him from attending, although Sophie was there in full dress, revealing all her beauty and splendor. Indeed, she was the second most beautiful woman in the Empire, second only to Empress Hypolita. She looked around as the classical orchestra played in harmony in the rear, giving music to dance to for other couples. Nevertheless, she was happy just to know that tomorrow she would finally walk to get married, and all her troubles would extinguish. She had never thought that one day she would become empress of the Golden Throne; but it had become reality.

None could hear the boom of artillery as the Battle of the River Nestor raged in all its might. The forces of the rebels were being slaughtered, and her future husband was leading the army personally. He had given his promise to be at the wedding; of course, he was needed. Nonetheless, she truly wished he was with her tonight. There were so many worried going around the world, including a war of succession, economic disaster in Guffingford, and war whereever one was to look. But she would not take this world as dark, and tomorrow she would marry to who she considered one of the most powerful men in the world.

For now, she would just enjoy the guests.

Horus twirled the young diplomat from the Ruskan province of the Empire. Suddenly he noticed that Sophia, whom he had been unable to reach earlier was sitting with a few of here handmaidens and other friends, speaking softly of the weather and life, while entertaining a distracted look upon her face. Horus went over to her, hoping to discuss the possiblility of the Golden Throne aiding the government in stopping the genocide in Muur and helping to rebuild the region. HE approached her and softly tapped her on the shoulder.

"Care to dance on this fine evening, m'lady?"