NationStates Jolt Archive

Cora Rastaban, queen and sovereign ruler over the Queendom of Rastaban, sat at her desk going over some last minute legislation before she left for dinner and then retired to her wing for the night. To most of the world she looked young and untried but she had struggled to secure her seat on the throne from her step-father and younger sister then had to face them when civil war broke out and she actively fought in it, bleeding alongside her fellow country men and women. At twenty-years old Cora Artemis Julie Rastaban had to deal with more in a short time than she had ever expected in her thus short life. And this night she would have to prepare herself for one more conflict that lay at hand.

There was a knock at her office door. She did not feel worried about who it was, for those that knocked had to get pass her guard as well as the many hidden draches in the chamber before her office. “Enter,” she said calmly and looked up to see who it was.

A fairly tall young man entered. He looked to be no older but than the queen herself but held one of the highest positions in the Queendom: Her Majesty’s Royal Advisor and Leader of the First Nook. Tanek Ryuu stood tall and looked very sophisticated in his three-piece blue suit. “Your Majesty, we have a serious problem,” he said as if he was reading a newspaper headline.

“Rebels?” she said, curious to what supports of her sister and stepfather were still around.

“No, but I’m not sure if this isn’t just as bad.”

“Well, spit it out Tanek,” Cora said, leaving the legislation for a later time. Tanek had only delivered bad news twice. Once when he told her that her stepfather was trying to force her mother to name Cora’s younger, half-sister as her heir. That was promptly put a stop to when her mother, the late Queen Julie III refused. The second time was when he came to announce that Prince Al’ver (her step-father) and Princess Cally (her younger half-sister) and declared war on Queen Cora and those that opposed them. That was resolved with Cora striking down Al’ver in a duel in midst of a battle.

“Earl Tus-sha Yfelle as manage to pass a law,” Tanek said. “And it deals with your future spouse.”

Cora groaned and held her hands in her head. Earl Yfelle was father to Prince Al’ver. He was never implicated in actually supporting his son or granddaughter and thus could not be tried for treason against Rastaban. “I’ll just veto it,” Cora resolved.

“Its not as simple as that. Yfelle has managed to find a loop hole in which you can’t touch it,” Tanek said, looking more worried as he spoke.

“Tell me.”

“He managed to threaten most of the Citizen’s Council into accepting the bill as an emergency legislature. The Council won’t admit to be threatened so we can’t do anything to turn this into something that would end up on your desk,” Tanek explained. “Apparently Yfelle has one supporter in the Nobel’s Senate because this woman was not threaten and for an emergency legislature he would only need one member of the Nobel’s Senate to approve it before it moved to the Nook.”

“So why did not the First Nook dismiss it?” she asked, agitation in her voice.

“Because the emergency legislature does not specify whether the First or Second Nook approves of it. And since Yfelle and Cr'nobog are the only members of the Second Nook we could not prove supported your sister and since they have tenure, they took it upon themselves to approve of the bill.”

She sat back in her seat and sighed. “And I thought I would get an early night. Is there anyway we can get around this? Is there a loop hole for us?”

Tanek looked at the ground, not wanting to look his queen in the eyes. “At this moment in time, there appears not to be, save that you marry in forty-five days.”

“FORTY-FIVE DAYS!” Cora shouted, more shocked than anything. “They can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid, and the bill states that if you are not at least engaged by such a time, the crown shall pass out of your hands,” he still spoke with his eyes staring aside.

“Well, it would go to Kishar, so no problem there-”

Tanek interrupted, “Not as simple as that my Queen. It also states the crown shall pass a female of Iliana’s blood baring Rastaban’s name. Unless Dranon or Daniel produce a daughter with in such a time limit it would pass to Cally.”

“Those bastards,” Cora murmured.

“What shall we do my Queen?” Tanek wanted to hit himself for asking such an idiotic question but it was all that he could think of.

Cora and thought in her chair. He knew she would have to consider her own personal feelings. But as a monarch sometimes those had to be sacrificed for the good of your nation. If she considered her own feelings and did not find a suitable spouse within 45 days Cally would be queen and would do nothing but harm to Rastaban.

And Tanek’s Queen answered with the farthest thought from his mind. “We shall hold a ball, my dear Tanek.” When he didn’t respond right away she smiled. “It will be a cover. We’re going to play this smooth. Pretend like it doesn’t bother us. The ball shall be a Winter’s Ball. We’ll pull a Cinderella and invite all eligible men of good standing. Be they military men, ordinary, or of noble birth. We’ll worry about alliances and what not later. It’ll keep us occupied while we find a way to get out of this preposterous situation. And of course we can’t make it too obvious that Rastaban’s queen is seeking a husband. You never know what will happen at these sorts of things. Perhaps they’ll want to marry off Daniel or Dranon while they’re at it.”


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To: All Friendly Nations,
From: Her Majesty Queen Cora of Rastaban

I, Queen Cora of Rastaban, have decided to hold a Winter Ball in New Avalon at the Royal Palace Compound. You are invited to send whom ever you wish, from your military men to those important members of your government. This ball shall be opened to all those that are willing to come. We are not seeking alliances but rather to enjoy your company and get to know you and your nation better. It is a formal occasion. Please RSVP so as I may tell my staff the number of rooms they’ll need to prepare. And I would also like to make it aware that within the city of New Avalon, to preserve its buildings and keep the air around the city clean all automobiles and such transportation are forbidden, however if you land at New Avalon International Airport I shall provide limos for you and your guests to be taken on my personal road that connects me to the airport and the palace compound. If you wish to visit the city please feel free to use any of my carriages and/or horses.

My Dearest Regards,
Queen Cora Rastaban
Lady of the First House

((OOC: Yes it’s a bit early for a winter ball, but let’s just say the ball is set for around then. If you have any questions feel free to email me at rastaban.gov@gmail.com or telegram me. This is to try and find someone for Cora, but it also to give me, and other nations, the opportunity to get know each other.))

"Hey dad?"
"Yes Corrina, what is it?"
"You got a letter from someone by the name Queen Cora of Rastaban. It's about a ball that she's hosting."
"Oh, and you know this how, been going throught my mail again?"
"Yes daddy." Corrina said in a contrited voice, thought there was a hint of mocking, done in the way that only a daughter with her father wrapped around her finger could manage.
"I take it you want to go to the ball?"
"Yes, and I think Avin and Hyle would love to go as well. They did say the were tired of being cooped up at the academy."
"Alright, I'll ask them."

In the course of the conversation with the two boys, he learnt that Avin wished to go, and bring a friend who'd expressed interest as well, while Hyle didn't.

My son, a friend of his and my daughter wish to attend your winter ball. If you have any questions about any of them, feel free to ask and I shall reply promptly, provided my daughter Corrina doesn't hijack my mail as she is wont to do.

To: Queen Cora of Rastaban
From: Cyrus Lanier Commandant of The Mercenary State of Nation of Fortune

The Mercenary State of Nation of Fortune, is always looking to improve relations other countries. Having no direct children of my own, I wish to send several of my higher ranking members of my military to this ball with the hopes that relations between our two nations will be secured. They will be accompanied by their service animals, as is the ceremonial tradition within our nation. I assure you these animals, threatening as they may seem, will cause no harm to the guests at your ball, unless harm is to become of their handler.

Cyrus Lanier
"Victory does not always come in the form of a win"

To: Queen Cora
From: Emperor Victor of Theao
My son, a friend of his and my daughter wish to attend your winter ball. If you have any questions about any of them, feel free to ask and I shall reply promptly, provided my daughter Corrina doesn't hijack my mail as she is wont to do.

To: Emperor Victor of Theo
From: Queen Cora Rastaban

We shall be glad to host your son, friend and daughter. They be provided with fine rooms and guards if need be, though I doubt that they shall come to any harm while within our boarders. Please feel free to have them arrive when they are ready. We shall try to meet their demands as best as we can.

Regards,
Queen Cora

To: Queen Cora of Rastaban
From: Cyrus Lanier Commandant of The Mercenary State of Nation of Fortune

The Mercenary State of Nation of Fortune, is always looking to improve relations other countries. Having no direct children of my own, I wish to send several of my higher ranking members of my military to this ball with the hopes that relations between our two nations will be secured. They will be accompanied by their service animals, as is the ceremonial tradition within our nation. I assure you these animals, threatening, as they may seem, will cause no harm to the guests at your ball, unless harm is to become of their handler.

Cyrus Lanier
"Victory does not always come in the form of a win"

To: Cyrus Lanier, Commandant of Nation of Fortune
From: Queen Cora Rastaban

I will prepare rooms within the palace for the members of your military that will be attending the ball. Their animals are welcome, so long as they do not have them stray into the Dragon Air Force part of the palace compound. We have rather large dragons that often think certain animals are snack and not otherwise. Their service animals shall be provided for all so. If there are special food items these animals require, please let me know. And I do look forward to securing relations between our two nations.

Regards,
Queen Cora

To: Emperor Victor of Theao
From: Queen Cora Rastaban
We shall be glad to host your son, friend and daughter. They be provided with fine rooms and guards if need be, though I doubt that they shall come to any harm while within our boarders. Please feel free to have them arrive when they are ready. We shall try to meet their demands as best as we can.

Regards,
Queen Cora[/FONT]
To: Queen Cora Rastaban
From: Emperor Victor of Theao
We thank you for the prompt reply, my daughter, my son and his friend will be arriviving in two days if that is acceptable. Also Corrina will have her pet mountain lion Rangu with her unless this presents a problem. Rangu is both fully house-trained and domesticated. He is also as gentle as a lamb and has no special dietary requirements as he eats kibble thought he does like meats of any sort.

Tourano Kryspiane sat at the end of the large oak table, completely perplexed by the current situation unfolding on various screens and holographic projectors around him. It was amazing to see such a feat in action, especially from his own people. the 211th national swordsmanship contest. Such men and women of grace, all performing with honour and effort. It had only been 2 years since Tourano himself had competed, at just the age of 20 when his father still intended him to be a soldier rather than a politician.

Almost huddled over a tumbler of Savitrian bourbon, Tourano merely watched in amazement at all the effort that his people put in for the name of fun. such things were trivial when he thought deeply into it, but he didn't care at this moment in time. His younger sisters had gone on their winter retreats, the senate was not in session for another 4 days, and he didnt feel like returning to his high rise apartment alone.

It wasn't until the ceremony at the end of the contest, where the winner, a young Burusian soldier from the Humanitarian Aid protection force, was smiling intensely at his prize Kodachi, awarded by the previous champion whom had beaten Tourano. His thoughts of valour and pride were cut short by a knock at the double glass doors at the opposite end of the room.

"Yes Phen, what are you still doing here at work?" Tourano didn't rise from his seat, merely milling over his drink without looking to the bodyguard at the door.
"There's a letter for you, it's from the monarch Rastaban."
"Really now? well, thankyou. I told you to go home for the day, I'm alright about here on my own." Tourano smiled over the name. He had only heard rumours and media about Her Royal Highness Rastaban, but all of it was good.
"Aye sir... I'll be off then"
"Goodnight Phen, say hello to your brother for me."

Rastaban was one of those places that Tourano would have loved to have visit if he was actually able to. He constantly tried to get a break from all the problems with Strobania, but rarely had a chance, he needed to be with his people alot. The letter, handwritten in a fine rolling ink, had started to powder away over his fingers as he read with a growing smile. If there was one thing that Tourano loved, it was a good ol' fasioned party.
_______________________________________________________________

To: Queen Cora Rastaban
From: Senate Chancellor Tourano XI of Kashaar

Your Hon. Majesty Rastaban, as a nation of extended positive relations throughout many continents, I, Tourano XI Kryspiane of Kashaar, do wish to attend this winters ball you intend to host. There will only be myself attending, as it is the season where I send my people home to their families to enjoy life a little more.

I have long since thought of visiting your fine country, and now I have a formal invitation.

Best Regards and Well Wishes

Chancellor Tourano Kryspiane XI

To: Queen Cora Rastaban
From: Senate Chancellor Tourano XI of Kashaar

Your Hon. Majesty Rastaban, as a nation of extended positive relations throughout many continents, I, Tourano XI Kryspiane of Kashaar, do wish to attend this winters ball you intend to host. There will only be myself attending, as it is the season where I send my people home to their families to enjoy life a little more.

I have long since thought of visiting your fine country, and now I have a formal invitation.

Best Regards and Well Wishes

Chancellor Tourano Kryspiane XI

To: Senate Chancellor Tourano XI of Kashaar
From: Queen Cora Rastaban

I am so glad to hear you speak fondly of my nation. I am also glad to be hosting you in my house. I do look forward to you attending.

Regards,
Queen Cora Rastaban

To: Queen Cora Rastaban
From: Emperor Victor of Theao
We thank you for the prompt reply, my daughter, my son and his friend will be arriviving in two days if that is acceptable. Also Corrina will have her pet mountain lion Rangu with her unless this presents a problem. Rangu is both fully house-trained and domesticated. He is also as gentle as a lamb and has no special dietary requirements as he eats kibble thought he does like meats of any sort.

To: Emperpr Victor of Theao
From: Queen Cora Rastaban

Two days is very acceptable and shall have all their quarters and transportaion arrangements ready for them by then. Please, have Princess Corrina bring her pet Rangu. But I must warn you and your daughter not have him stray far from the royal palace, being as that we have large dragons in the military complex near by that would look to her mountain lion as a tasty snack. And if and when your daughter wishes to feed him meat I shall put her in contact with my cooks.

Regards,
Queen Cora

To: Emperpr Victor of Theao
From: Queen Cora Rastaban

Two days is very acceptable and shall have all their quarters and transportaion arrangements ready for them by then. Please, have Princess Corrina bring her pet Rangu. But I must warn you and your daughter not have him stray far from the royal palace, being as that we have large dragons in the military complex near by that would look to her mountain lion as a tasty snack. And if and when your daughter wishes to feed him meat I shall put her in contact with my cooks.

Regards,
Queen Cora
To: Queen Cora Rastaban
From: Emperor Victor of Theao
Thank you for the accomedation. I hope that the ball you are hosting goes well, as well as any other challenges you might face in your reign.


Two Days Later
The plane bearing Corrina, Rangu, Avin and Helio touched down at the New Avalon International Airport. Whilst there bags were being unloaded, the trio and the lion disembarked from the Lear Jet. Corrina wore a pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt that mixed well with her blonde hair and green eyes. She also had a coat draped over Rangu who walked with a quite natural feline grace, lean muscles flowing under his tawny pelt. Avin who many considered odd, or rather eccentric as people of power were never odd, was wearing a pair of shorts and a loud shirt with a barely clothed neon orange skinned, electric blue haired succubus on it. It clashed quite nicely with his green eyes and wild black hair. Helio wore a pair black and red shirt and pants that looked quite nice with his black hair and blue eyes. The three looked around for someone that might be their guide.

The first Nofian soldier off the airplane stepped on to the runway of the New Avalon International Airport. Long blonde hair flashed, and two green eyes darted to and fro. Nofian utility uniform was worn, accompanied by a vest. On the vest was a large knife, a Pistol, and several clips. Muscular arms stuck out through the sleeves on the utility blouse. A cougar stepped off the plane behind the soldier, and came forth without a sound.

"Hurry up you two, we ain't got all day!" the soldiers barked towards the plane.

"Yes Valerie!" came the reply.

Valerie hefted her large backpack over her shoulder and waited for the other two to come out. Toma Gaischioch was the next off the plane, he wore a utility uniform identical to Valerie's. On his vest was the noticable lack of a pistol, but hanging from a sling was an assault rifle, a FAMAS to be precise. He let out a short whistle and a large grey wolf walked out of the plane.

Kiley was the last one off the plane, she was dressed differently from the other two, she was wearing a lage cloak that concealed her face and the rest of her body. A long strand of black hair hung down past the shadow of the hood. She said nothing as she descended to the tarmac of the landing strip. Silently a black panther crept behind her. She walked to Val and stood, awaiting further instructions.

Val nodded her head and they moved forward in unision, Kiley displaying signs of a leg injury. Valerie kept her search for someone who might tell them where to go or what to do.

Patriarch Joseph observed the material before him with mild interest. He glanced up at his favore heir, David, then back at the document in hand. Although the Praetora was a pinnacle of modern science, Joseph tried to maintain a mediveal feel to better represent the image he wanted to impose.

"Well, David, what do you think of this offer? Shall we come out of our political shell and enter the political world?"

"From what I have heard of the politics in the hosting nation, now would be a most opportune time. However, I feel it would be more appropriate to send someone of more... noble upbringing."

"Noble upbringing? Now tell me, David, why would such a requirement be neccesary?"

"Call it intuition. Call it reading into the letter. Call it researching the political events of the host and finding some interesting material."

"Ah, so there's an opportunity to prosper? Do you think that should send our prestigious Bloodline Priest Viktor?"

"I was thinking that you should make a personal appearance, but your wisdom surpasses my own. I shall arrange for Viktor's departure as soon as you grant me permission."

Patriarch Joseph nodded, and David hustled out the door. Of course he would want him out of the country. Praetora is the only place in the world where he was safe from David's assassins. Still, he had a good point. There was more going on than met the eye.

-=- -=- -=- -=- -=-

To: Her Majesty Queen Cora of Rastaban
From: Patriarch Joseph Praetora of the Praetora

Your Majesty, it is with great honor that we accept your invitation to the Winter Ball. Arriving on behalf of the Praetora shall be the Bloodline Priest Viktor Praetora, the Praetora's equivolent to a member of the royal family. He shall be arriving by air, and will await the formentioned transportation upon his arrival. I am quite sure that he will be able to contribute to the Winter Ball and relationships between Praetorans and Rastabans.

The plane ride had been long, boring, and had surprisingly bad chow...

'Why I get stuck with these diplomatic schmooze-sessions, I have no fucking idea...'

Dekker Bray, a colonel in the private army of General Jeffory Garand. A veteran of both numerous dynamic actions across the globe and a previous marriage, his outlook on the current situation was grim. The fact that he had been forced to mail his forty-five back home from the airport had only soured things further. He felt naked without that lump of steel under his left arm. Dekker stood at about six-foot-one, around two-hundred sixty-three pounds set on a lean & muscular frame. A scar ran vertically across his left eye, another traced along his jawline on the right side. The eye was from Iraqi shrapnel from the first Gulf War, the jaw from a near-death encounter with a Taliban knife during a tour in Afganistan. His eyes were an unsettling blue color, but the left one was beginning to get a bit fuzzy as he got older from that shrapnel he'd taken way back when. The hair on his head was still brown, graying slightly around the temples. As such, he'd kept the style at the USMC regulation 'high-and-tight' to conceal it, since dying it wasn't an option. That was a female thing. Aged thirty-four and father of one, a seventeen-year-old son, he doubted he'd be in the running for a second wife. He wore an expensive black tuxedo with a crimson bowtie under the wing-tip collar of his shirt. The shoes were highly-polished USMC low-quarters that showed more than a little wear.

His brother, on the other hand, Jackson, known mainly as Jack by his friends and girlfriends, had never been married, probably had but didn't know about any kids, and generally was more of a people-person than his older twin. Jack was about six-foot-even, one-seventy on a toned body worthy of a Golds' Gym poster. Jack's hair was lighter, and he barely looked a day over twenty-six. The emerald hue of his eyes had often stolen the heart of many an impressionable young woman, and he wasn't about to let it end now. He, too, had been required to leave his personal firearms at home, a matched pair of Colt Gold Cup Delta Elites, stainless steel framed and sporting a myriad of modifications. His face bore no scars of battle, his former career as a member of the US Army's Delta Force had brought him close enough to combat to feel the fire, but not get burned by it, unlike his ex-SEAL brother.
The charismatic package that was Jackson Bray came wrapped in a powder-blue tux with a matching bowtie and white shirt. An expensive watch glimmered under the cuff of his left sleeve, a Rolex encrusted with more than a few diamonds. Two chains hung from his neck, one bearing a diamond-encrusted 'J', the other a matching 'B'. Yet another diamond decorated his left ear lobe. His shoes where, of course, a pair of stark-white Timberland boots.

The final member of the three-man delegation team was Peter Zion, a sergeant in the private army Dekker also served. A former USMC Recon Sniper, he was either quiet or a subtle smart-ass. Built similarly to Jack, Zion's facial features often landed him on recruitment posters, which had earned him the moniker 'Poster-Boy'. It got him laid, as he put it, and that was fine with him. Standing a little taller than his aforementioned counterpart, Zion also had shoulder-length curly hair the color of jet. The sniper often kept the mess tied back at the nape of his neck, keeping it out of the way when he was behind the scope or out at one of these social events where his appreciation of fine tequila often came in handy. Dressed in a simple black tux with a matching bowtie and a pair of expensive Italian lofers...

"They gonna pick us up or do we haveta rent a car?"

Jack wondered, folding the set of Nike metallic-framed sunglasses and slipping them into an interior pocket...

"Nope, they said we'd be provided with transportation, unlike most of these shin-digs we get thrown to..."

Dekker responded, gesturing towards the terminal as they moved towards it...

"I give it ten minutes before I call a cab..."

"Shutup Jack..."

Emperor Drake Yurka looked over the message once more, wondering how it had wound up on his desk in the first place. Outside the sound of a sand storm could faintly be heard, causing the man to let out a depressed sigh as he gave the only other man in the room, his advisor Karth Grimoire, a slight shrug. Neither of the two had been to a ball in at least ten years, not since they were forced from their ancestral home to this desert.

"It would be nice..." Karth finally said calmly, breaking the silence as he brushed his hair back with a free hand, "The winter ball I mean. I wonder if it snows there? I've never been there, but I've heard quite a bit about that place. They say there are dragons Drake."

Only Karth had ever called him by his first name since Drake took the throne all those years ago. Though even now it caused him to give off a slight laugh at how he said it. The way Karth talked to him was almost shockingly laid-back.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt. If we leave now we might be able to make it on time for once... I think we should take Alan with us. Hes been rather tense lately and could use the break."

"I will inform him at once. Will you be going?"

"I think it would be a good idea... For diplomacy's sake I mean. I'll leave my cousin Sirius in charge." He said in a cool and composed voice, as if he had been planning this for a long time, "Hes a good leader, but not good enough to take the throne, so there will be no fear in him rebelling."

"Heh heh heh... Alright then, I'll go and fetch Alan from his studies and get a transport ready and packed. We should leave by the end of the night." The advisor to the emperor said with a winning smile as he walked to the door and made his way down the hall, a skip to his step. It would do Drake some good to keep his mind out of his plots and intrigue for awhile...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To: Her Majesty Queen Cora of Rastaban
From: Emperor Drake Yurka

Your Winter Ball sounds like a charming idea, and for personal reasons could not have come at a better time. My advisor and I have heard only good things about your beautiful country, and would be honored if you would allow us to attend the event. I myself shall be attending, along with my advisor and oldest son, Alan Yurka, along with a select few members of my personal staff. I await your reply.

Sincerely,
Emperor Drake Yurka
47th heir to the throne of Yurka

OOC: I know Corrina is a princess, but I just guess on the boy's positions.

"Princess Corrina, Prince Avin, Prince Helio?" A tall blonde woman said. She wasn't overly pretty with her long hair and watery-blue eyes. And for most of the health crazy world one would consider her pleasantly plump. She wore a black skirt outfit with low heels and nylon. On the right side of her jacket was a badge deeming her important, to at least those in Rastaban.

"Welcome to Rastaban. I am Sidra Allis, Her Majesty Queen Cora's aid. I'll be your guide while you stay in Rastaban," she smiled at them. "Don't worry about your bags, my men will take care of them. If you'd follow me, I'll take you to our transportation." Sidra turned and began walking toward a black SUV limo. It wasn't ridiculously long, but just long enough to seat them all so that they could face each other, and have enough room for Corrina's pet, Rangu.

She did not enter though. "It appears more guest have arrived." And without and obvious word escaping Sidra's lips more limo appeared. "Nation of Fotrune, is here to," she murmured to herself, naming off various other that were present too.
________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile . . .

Tanek sat with the other men and women of the first Nook. They had been pouring over every angle to try the queen out of this ridiculous law that had been recently imposed.

"There is nothing we can do that won't cause contention, either with Al'ver and Cally's remaining supporters, or the people themselves," one man said.

"Who cares about their supporters?! They are few and far between," a woman said.

"Not few enough," Tanek said. "Or else we wouldn't be in this situation." There were murmurs of agreement.

"I say we play along, like the queen is," another suggested. A few of her collogues began to question her, but she continued. "Why do we not put forth our own candidate for Her Majesty's possible husband?"

Tanek frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I hate to say this, but why do we not pick a eligible Rastabite man to send to the ball? If she doesn't pick him, then so what? If she does, then we wouldn't have to worry about her children inheriting other thrones before this one."

Tanek didn't like the idea of playing matchmaker for his Queen, but the others seemed to think it was a good idea. "Fine, but we shall not force him on Her Majesty nor is she and this man allowed to know what is going on. Is that clear. We'll let the gods bring them together if they deem it so. Is that clear?" He looked each Nook member in the eye. If they looked away, he kept his eyes on them till they met his. "I'm glad we're in all agreement. Now, who shall we send?"

An hour later in the Dragon Air Force complex of the Royal Compound a young man dismounted from a large black dragon. He was probably no older than twenty-four. He had just gotten back from patrol so his cheeks were red from being wind-burned. He took off his helmet to reveal a messy blonde hair (courtesy of said helmet) and blue-green eyes. A few of his fellow female dragon riders near by couldn’t help but smile while they looked at him

"Rayn!" and man, about ten years his elder (though relation was apparent) said, walking up to him. Similarly dressing in riding gear but some insignia was different colors. “We have to talk.”

“What is it, Jeyth?” Rayn said after giving the black dragon a pat on its leg and telling it mentally to go eat and sleep. The black dragon looked at his rider for a moment before trudging off.

“We have a formal invitation,” Jeyth said holding out a paper with the seal of the House of Rastaban on it. It looked handwritten and very official. Rayn was wary to take it, for he did not want to damage it.

Then it was like lightning struck him. “Wait, what do you mean, we?” Rayn asked, now sounding very confused. “We’ve never been invited to anything. Besides, what are being invited too?”

“A ball, and I know, it is very strange, brother. I’ve been told we are to represent the D.R.A. while there and from now until the ball and all functions connected to it are over we are to stay in the palace, out duties being reduced.”

Rayn raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if I’m being given a vacation or being assigned to another job.”

“Same here,” Jeyth agreed. “But what are the Tha’yr brothers to do but accept his new duty.” Rayn shrugged and went with Jeyth to the barracks to gather their things and prepare a stay at the palace.

To: All Friendly Nations,
From: Her Majesty Queen Cora of Rastaban

I, Queen Cora of Rastaban, have decided to hold a Winter Ball in New Avalon at the Royal Palace Compound. You are invited to send whom ever you wish, from your military men to those important members of your government. This ball shall be opened to all those that are willing to come. We are not seeking alliances but rather to enjoy your company and get to know you and your nation better. It is a formal occasion. Please RSVP so as I may tell my staff the number of rooms they’ll need to prepare. And I would also like to make it aware that within the city of New Avalon, to preserve its buildings and keep the air around the city clean all automobiles and such transportation are forbidden, however if you land at New Avalon International Airport I shall provide limos for you and your guests to be taken on my personal road that connects me to the airport and the palace compound. If you wish to visit the city please feel free to use any of my carriages and/or horses.

My Dearest Regards,
Queen Cora Rastaban
Lady of the First House

To Her Most Esteemed Majesty, Queen Cora Rastaban, Lady of the First House,

The Imperial government of Krioval would be most honored to send a representative of our modest nation to partake of your generous offer of hospitality. If he meets with your approval, I will personally send Director Darvek Tyvok, of the Division of Kriovalian Security, to represent Krioval. If possible, I would be most interested in sending along one of my diplomatic staff as well as a member of the Imperial guard to more fully represent the culture of Krioval. It is not difficult to arrange for all the attendees to be male, if space is a concern; I would hate to burden your staff with additional work. I eagerly await your reply.

雷神 (Raijin)

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"You'll like it there, Darvek."

"If you say so, Raijin. Why me, though?"

"You said you wanted a vacation."

"Yeah, but..."

"There's bound to be a lady or two who might be interested..."

"I'm there." Director Tyvok tried and failed to suppress a grin. Raijin prayed that the Gods wouldn't let Darvek's reputation as a playboy reach Rastaban before the Kriovalian envoy.

"Behave."

To: Her Majesty Queen Cora of Rastaban
From: Patriarch Joseph Praetora of the Praetora

Your Majesty, it is with great honor that we accept your invitation to the Winter Ball. Arriving on behalf of the Praetora shall be the Bloodline Priest Viktor Praetora, the Praetora's equivolent to a member of the royal family. He shall be arriving by air, and will await the formentioned transportation upon his arrival. I am quite sure that he will be able to contribute to the Winter Ball and relationships between Praetorans and Rastabans.

To: Patriarch Joseph Praetora of the Praetora
From: Her Majesty Queen Cora of Rastaban

We shall be delighted to hose the Bloodline Priest Praetora. He shall be treated as any royal visiting my country. Transportation is set to receive him when he arrives. And I do look forward to strengthening the relations between our two countries.

~Queen Cora
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A small, middle-age man walked up to those just arriving from Nations of Fortune. "Hello, I'm Gred Carther. Your from Nation of Fortune, I presume." He smiled. "All your luggage shall be taken car of and be placed in your rooms within the palace. If you'd follow me I show you the way to your limo."

Nearby Sidra had excused herself from those that came from Theao and told them to continue on without her, as she would meet them at the palace. "Misters Bray and Mister Zion?" Sidra asked, giving a polite bow to the men. "I am Sidra Allis. Don't worry about your things, we shall take of those for you. And I would be pleased to show you to your limo, sirs. Refreshments await you in there as well as at the palace."

_______________________________________________________________
To: Her Majesty Queen Cora of Rastaban
From: Emperor Drake Yurka

Your Winter Ball sounds like a charming idea, and for personal reasons could not have come at a better time. My advisor and I have heard only good things about your beautiful country, and would be honored if you would allow us to attend the event. I myself shall be attending, along with my advisor and oldest son, Alan Yurka, along with a select few members of my personal staff. I await your reply.

Sincerely,
Emperor Drake Yurka
47th heir to the throne of Yurka

To: Emperor Drake Yurka
From: Her Majesty Queen Cora Rastaban

Its wonderful to hear that you shall be attending. I am also glad that good things about my nation have reach your ears. I doubt such things will only be enforced once you see it. You, your son and advisor are most welcome and any others you wish to bring. A limo will await you as well as spacious rooms in my palace.

Regards,
Queen Cora Rastaban
Queen of Rastaban
________________________________________________________________

To Her Most Esteemed Majesty, Queen Cora Rastaban, Lady of the First House,

The Imperial government of Krioval would be most honored to send a representative of our modest nation to partake of your generous offer of hospitality. If he meets with your approval, I will personally send Director Darvek Tyvok, of the Division of Kriovalian Security, to represent Krioval. If possible, I would be most interested in sending along one of my diplomatic staff as well as a member of the Imperial guard to more fully represent the culture of Krioval. It is not difficult to arrange for all the attendees to be male, if space is a concern; I would hate to burden your staff with additional work. I eagerly await your reply.

To: Raijin of the Imperial Goverment of Krioval
From: Her Majesty Queen Cora Rastaban

You may send whom ever meets your approval as I am most interested in learning more about your nation and it's culture. And there shall be no such burden. I have many rooms within my home dedicated for those visting from near and far. I await your arrival.

~Queen Cora Rastaban

"Hello Mr. Carther," said Valerie, "I would like to for us to introduce ourselves as well."

"My name is Toma Gaiscioch. My wolf's name is Grendal. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said in a formal voice that was nothing like the commanding voice Val had.

"Kiley Nessa. My black companion is called Darby." Her words seemed to creep up ones ear instead of actually being said.

"I am known as nothing more than Valerie. My lovely assistant here," she reached down and scratched the cougars head, "responds to Haushinka. I thank you for your kind introduction to us in your lovely land. If it's not too much of a hassle, we'd much rather carry our bags with us. We are not accustomed to such practices as others taking care of our belongings."

Valerie glanced around at her cohorts, nodded, and they followed the man to their limo. Once they arrived they got in.

'Such a useless vehicle,' Valerie thought to herself, 'SUV's aren't that great to begin with, but a limo one is just a waste. Well, we are in a foreign country under noncombat situations, so I ought to get used to the different customs. It's not like every country travels on foot everywhere like ours.'

snip
"Why hello, yes we are Corrina, Avin and Helio." Corrina replied, "Thought I'm not a prince, but will be an earl." Helio added

"Thank you for the generous welcome, and it is an honour to be here." Avin said as they headed to the limos. As they and Rangu entered the limo, with Rangu stretching out on a seat so that his head rested in Corrina's lap, Avin spoke, "Sis, who are the NoF?"
"They're listed in dad's files as a class three with a M subclassifiacation."
"Ah, will be interesting to meet none the less.

Sis, who are the NoF?"
"They're listed in dad's files as a class three with a M subclassifiacation."

OOC: Mind explaining, now I'm wondering?

"Lovely to make all of your acquaintances," Carther said. "And if you insist that you take your bag, please. We did not mean to offend you. I must warn you, though, so as to protect your companions, that they should not stray into the New Avalon Flight part of the royal compound, being as there are dragons that would see your friends as food rather than guest of Her Majesty. We do have large parks and gardens both inside the compound and in the city in which they would be free to roam in, if you are interested. We could even arrange live game for them to hunt."

He led them to the limo. "I hope you have enough leg room and the seats are comfortable. There is a mini-bar and small refrigerator if you shall need anything to tie you over. Please let me know if you need anything," Carther said. "We shall be leaving in a few moments."

OOC: Mind explaining, now I'm wondering?
ooc: Class three stands for no official/formal contact, while the M subclass means it's a militaristic nation

ooc: Class three stands for no official/formal contact, while the M subclass means it's a militaristic nation
OOC: Cool
-snip-
"No offense taken. I have a feeling they would like live game if we were to go to any of these places you speak of where they would not be able to accompany us. Please feel free to ask us anything about ourselves and our nation during the trip." Val shot a quick glance at the other two, with the intention that they comply with these wishes.

Tourano was late, extremely, very, almost too late, late. He ran over some manner of excuse for leaving either an escort or the Queen herself waiting for another 6 hours, but could only come up with "traffic". Saying that would pin his country as unorganised, since New Avalon was a pollution free zone. He decided it would be better to just smile and try and think of some consolation.

As his Antonov 124-100 fusion converted skittered down at New Avalon International, Tourano made an attempt to make himself look semi presentable. His sleek oak coloured hair had started to tangle at the ends, and the one family braid that was laced with beads and silk thread had frayed at the ends. Flying across the world brought out the slob in him, trying hard to tie the laces of his hemp trainer fruitlessly.

As the back rampart lowered down on the huge aircraft, Tourano stood in a blatent flurry of anticipation. He was sure such a plane might be viewed as an ego booster, but rather the Senate transport than the private nickel plated lear jet.

The sun glared into his eyes with a flash as the rampart lowered completely, making him squint and reach for his sunglasses that hung loosely from his jacket pocket. Tourano stood a little over 6 feet, bearing no sign of over indulgence in food but a quite blatent love of sport. His hair was so sleek and dark, it didnt shine the sun off, it absorbed the glare into its sheen, almost making the brown seem more energetic. Dressed in something so casual he might just be mistaken for an average tourist. a pair of brown corded trousers that hung over his pristine white hemp trainers, almost making him look nothing more than a young man out of his teens and into the real world. the only sign of political standing was his jacket, a black, double breasted cashmere overcoat that trailed just below his hips, unbuttoned to show a military training vest.

He slowly began his slinking walk down the rampart to the figures that stood by the vehicles 50 yards from his plane, he did hope they weren't upset about the delay.

"Chancellor Kryspiane," Sidra Allis said, greeting the young man. "You could not arrive at a better time." Her smile was warm hearted and she did not even appear to realize he was late. "Forgive me, I am Sidra Allis, one of your many guides within Rastaban. Please, I hope you'll find it pleasing, but we have a limo waiting for you. It will take you on her Majesty's private road from here to the palace. Unfortunately, you won't be able to see any of the sights of our capital till you arrive at the palace."

"Miss Allis... It's a pleasure to be here, spare no worries over sight seeing, right now all I need is a seat that doesnt make my ears pop."

Tourano Extended his hand to shake warmly, a little bewildered at the seemingly firm shake. It made him smile some as he followed on behind to the limo, not in the least bit concerned of the cold, only being content with the gleaming winter sun.

Viktor Praetora liked to consider himself a man of prestige and class. Granted, his favorite form of recreation involved committing homicide, but it was performed in a civil and productive manner. However, he had forgone the decorations of his gritty background in the Coliseum National in favor of more formal attire. He always needed to keep up image, especially when representing one of the most controversial nations on the planet.

In this case, it was an eighteenth century suit crafted of twentieth century material and technology. His vest was golden in color, the trim of his suit was red, but it was primarily black in coloration. His own hair was dirty blonde, his eyes seeming to be golden in shade behind his tinted glasses. He had a thin goatee that seemed to make his serious face smile. Every aspect was designed to give him an image of sophistication.

He had made the aerial journey without hassle, mainly because he had no need for an escort or servants. All that he possessed with him in the journey was in a black carry-on bag. By using civilian travel, he had gotten the opportunity to understand the local mindset, and more importantly brush up on the vernacular. As for the lack of an escort, he was of the Praetoran denomination that was more ascetic in nature.

Looking around, Viktor was able to spot a group of limousines waiting for national representatives. He began walking over, flashing his identification to security so he could pass without stopping. The guard pointed toward one of the vehicles, indicating that it was intended for him. He smiled and nodded his thanks as he passed, and the guard smiled and nodded in reply. Viktor couldn’t help but keep a slight smile after he passed the guard. After so much time behind a desk, he could still maintain his notoriously charismatic image.

Christac Air 1A, President room, circling above Rastaban

Saerat stroked his long untamed black hair with his left hand whilst rubbing his eyes with the right. It had been a long day and he hoped it was going to end soon. He stopped rubbing his eyes and hair and rested his hands on either side of his smallish desk. He would sleep but he could not rest with the turbulence rocking the plane and the sight of dragons flying past the window. He should have been used to this, as New Christac was full of dragons. But he could never get used to the beauty of a dragon in flight.

As his head hit the side of the cabin for the third time, his door burst open. Baraz walked calmly in. He was the only member of Saerat's staff that could get away with it, as Baraz had been a fatherly figure to the young president since his father died in the Battle of the Cross.

"You asleep Saer!?!?" He shouted into the dark cabin before switching the lights on.
Saerat winced with pain as the light beams hit his retina.
"What you want?" He shouted with his head resting on his desk
"You and me are going to a ball!!" Baraz said firmly
"What?? When??" Saerat replied
"A ball, in the next half an hour or so hopefully, we are just sending the telegram now"
"Half an hour!!? What the hell!?"
"We received a telegram when we dipped back down into radio frequancies a few hours ago about a ball"
"Why did you not tell me?!" Saerat shouted
"Because I know best, I always know best, you know that" Baraz smiled
Saerat picked up the telegram sent by the queen earlier
"I am not going to any ball to meet this tart and share stories about how little our two countries have in common" Saerat said, thinking the matter closed.
"How long is this going to go on for" Baraz asked
"How long is what going to go on for?" Saerat asked blankly
"Its been five years now, you are going to have to start going to parties and having a bit of fun again!" Said Baraz
"Leave Sara out of this!!" Saerat shouted, getting off his desk and storming into the other room.
Baraz shouted to him through the door "We are both going in half an hour, whether you like it or not" He took a picture out of his pocket and slid it under the door. "Here is a picture of our host by the way"
"She’s pretty" Saerat said under his breath.

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To Queen Cora Rastaban, Lady of the First House

We have just received your telegram and we would like to accept your invitation. Though it may seem a little unorthodox, our plane is already just outside your airspace, and we request your permission to land at the nearest airport if it is not too late to attend.

Baraz, First Cleric to the President

((OOC: For Yurka and those that haven't "arrived" yet, please just join us at the end of this post, like they have always been there.:))

At last Sidra was informed that all the guest were ready to depart. A small, pale purple dragon appeared with a man clad in strange attire appeared and landed infront of the first limo. His outfit looked to be made of leather, but was not the usual thing a man in the military would wear. He wore a helmet with goggles. The purple dragon was no more than 50 feet in length with a maximum of a 100 feet for wingspan.

Sidra walked to ward the man, was handed a similar flight jacket as his, as well as a goggles and a helmet. It appeared the woman would not be joining them in a limo. She gave a wordless signal that must have told the drivers to begin their small journey while Sidra was taken far above them on the dragon.

She did not fly to high nor far in front of them. Sadly the ride held no view other than the lush forest on their right while the ocean was out in the distance on their left. They were taken into a short tunnel with out warning, Sidra not join them on that stretch for obvious reasions, and brought to the front of large palace. The roofs were domed with pale blue tiles. (OOC: I know its rather redundent, but think of the palace from Theeds in Star Wars).

The purple dragon, his rider and Sidra landed just as they arrived. Their doors of their limos were opened and hand ready to help them out. "Welcome to the Royal Palace," the footmen said.

Sidra waited at the bottom of steps. No doubt the queen was to appear soon.

The Nofian trio stepped out of the vehicle and assessed the situation. Judging on the composure of the others present they figured someone of nobility was to be presented soon. The three of them stood in a straight line line, arms length away from each other. They then in unison snapped to parade rest, Toma holding his weapon by the barrel out at an angle while the butt rested on the ground. They had their bags on their backs, while their companions stood idly by.

Viktor looked around at the assembled guests. Many of the guests were engaged in small talk over various matters that he wasn't very familiar with. However, he had taken the liberty of looking over photographs of various major figures in Rastabanian society.

Looking around, Viktor is able to spot one such individuals. Unfortunately for him, he had been unable to acquire Cally's proper title. Introducing himself without looking disrespectful would be easy enough. She seemed to be looking around for someone in particular.

Weaving through the crowd, Viktor lets himself remain at a distance until she introduces herself to another guest. One of the minor nobles taps him on the shoulder, however, and he decides to engage in conversation until he can speak to a more substantial figure.

"Hello, good sir. I am Viktor Praetora, one of the Bloodline Priests of my homeland Praetora. Who might you be?"

OOC: Hope you don't mind if I just slip in?

IC:

Viscount Osmo Fawlkes removed himself carefully from the limosine, slightly bemused after spending a half-hour sat between a large, salivating canine and an impeccably dressed man who, for all his smooth charm, created an atmosphere of violence that made Fawlkes want to slide ever-closer to the wolf. The journey, coupled with the polite yet ever so insistent warnings about man-eating dragons, had prompted the Viscount to pour himself a double Scotch from the mini-bar to calm his nerves. It just went to show how much calming his nerves required that he took the time to refill the glass before leaving the vehicle, carrying the drink with him on to the driveway.

The nobleman didn't cut much of a figure amongst the eclectic group. Mid thirties, thin and dressed in the standard black suit and waistcoat of the Reaches' lower politicians, his main distinguishing features were his fetching burgundy tie, a foppish middle parting of his dark hair and a glass of whisky. Nevertheless, he did his best to make a good impression.

"I say, dashed impressive what you've done with the place. Really puts one in mind of royal blood and all that... chivarly... stuff. Dashed impressive. Quite so."

Corrina exited the limo, preceeded by her youngest brother Avin and his friend Helio, and followed by Rangu. As they examined the arcitecture, as well as waiting to see when Queen Cora would arrive, Rangu smelt the cougar and panther and layed down beside Corrina, unsure of how to act in relation to these other cats.

Dekker, Jack, and Peter waited at the bottom of the stairs with the rest of the guests. After some difficulty locating the limos due to Jack stashing the invitation in his luggage, the other details of the arrival had gone off quite well. Jackson's grin was from ear to ear, at least until he noticed the size of the cats walking around...

"Holy shit, D... That's a big-ass cat..."

While his tone remained around that of a whisper, the comment in itself was enough to prompt Dekker to gesture his younger twin in closer...

"You humiliate me, Zion, or the corporation (nation), I will fold you up like a contortionist hooker and drop-kick your ass back to LA. Ease up on the swears and keep the 'pimping' as you refer to it to a minimum, otherwise, I really don't care what you do as long as you don't violate those previous three conditions or empregnate anyone..."

Someone to his left was whispering his name... It was Zion, pointing discretely at the stairs...

"Hey, Dek... Think something's about to start..."

To Queen Cora Rastaban, Lady of the First House

We have just received your telegram and we would like to accept your invitation. Though it may seem a little unorthodox, our plane is already just outside your airspace, and we request your permission to land at the nearest airport if it is not too late to attend.

Baraz, First Cleric to the President

To: Baraz, First Cleric to the President
From: Queen Cora Rastaban

I'm very pleased to hear that you will be able to attend. I have just sent for escort to meet you at New Avalon International Airport, where you're plane has been given permission to land. Please forgive me if you feel rushed, for other guest have arrived and I do not wish to leave you out.

~Queen Cora

Darvek had been to plenty of parties in his time, and this one looked to be one of the interesting ones. He absent-mindedly ran his hands through his long golden hair and considered his strategy. So many women, so little time. He had opted for his dress uniform, which satisfied both Raijin's desire for Krioval to be formally represented and his desire to make a strong impression on the other guests. It wasn't that Darvek was particularly vain, but years of social conditioning had turned him into the type of pseudo-rebellious nobility that couldn't help but to dress impeccably and try to seduce women. It was at the latter that he had acquired quite the reputation in Krioval.

With the temporary "ambassador" were two good looking but otherwise nondescript guards. Tevak, native Kriovalian, stood and scanned the crowd without interest, his eyes never stopping on any individual guest for more than a second or two. He was in the Special Forces, and was looking to blow off some steam. Opposite Tevak was a dark skinned man called Graav. He regarded the party with interest, though he would likely end up being "the responsible one". His gaze came back to his two travelling companions. The only diplomacy I will be working on is keeping Darvek off the foreign women and Tevak from causing any problems of the explosive type.

They walked around the room, and as if acting from an unseen cue, walked in different directions. They began to canvass the room in order to meet as many people as possible, as well as to impress them. The routine had become so popular in Krioval that it was named the "Diplomatic Triad" - one high government official, one diplomat, and one soldier. As was customary, each waited for nearby conversations to provide an entrance without being rude or too forceful.

OOC: Quickening Reaches, please join the fun!

snip

To The Praetora - OOC: Currently, Cally isn't within Rastaban boarders. She is known within Rastaban though as Princess Cally of Rastaban, though elsewhere she is known as Empress Cally of Athan. For more info on Rastaban see the link in my sig. for the factbook. Only some supporters are left, being as most are imprisoned, exiled or her grandfather and his few friends. :D And currently, besides Carther and Sidra, no one else of Rastaban importance has arrived.

IC:
Sidra smiled at the guest. "I hope your journey was a safe one, friends." It was never clear if Sidra Allis was going to say more as Carther went over to her and whispered a few words to her. She turned to smile at the guest. “Just a moment.”

There were no horns or a marching band to signal the queen’s arrival. The only thing of difference were those native Rastabites seeming to stand straighter and more at attention.

A young woman, no more than five-foot-five walked down the steps. Her dark-brown hair was loose and fell in curls around her shoulders. Kind brown eyes connected with each guest. Her attire was somewhat casual, as at first glance she might have appeared to be an aspiring businesswoman, though if one looked closely her pantsuit was made of very fine material, and her shoes were Jimmy Choo’s. To her right was a tall young man, looking to be about twenty-five. His hair was also dark-brown and had a similar wave to it as the queen’s and his eyes were a kind blue. He looked a little weary, but held himself as a man who had been through quite a bit. This was Prince Daniel, Queen Cora’s elder brother and only full-sibling. On her left was a young woman about Daniel’s age. Her hair was long and had a hint of red to it. Her dress was slightly more fashionable and thus less formal than this queen’s. Her expression was one of excitement. This was Lady Kishar Etain, the queen’s cousin and current heir to the throne (unless the a current, silly law was not changed). Her eyes passed over the handsome men.

“Welcome, my honored guest, to Rastaban. I am Queen Cora Rastaban, Lady of the First House and Queen of Rastaban. But enough with formalities,” Cora said as she reached the bottom step. “I am very glad to have you hear, to attend my Winter’s Ball. Please let me introduce you to my brother, Prince Daniel Rastaban, Mayor of New Avalon, and my dear cousin and current heir Lady Kishar Etain of Snawdon, Princess-of-the-Blood, daughter of my mother’s sister.” She smiled at each man and woman present, then looked at the variety of creatures present. “My, I’ve never seen so many large felines and canines in one place. Charming,” she said to one of the big feline owners.

Helio and Avin were quite taken respectivally with Lady Kishar Etain and Queen Cora Rastaban, while Corrina found Prince Daniel Rastaban cute.

"Thank you for the gracious invitation fair lady." Avin said with a bow.
Meanwhile Corrina had crouched down beside Rangu. "Behave." She whispered into his ear as she'd read his body language, saying he wished to lick the queen's hand, as well as anyone else's he could.

"You are most welcome, sir," Cora said in reply. "Forgive me, I can be rather horrible with placing names and faces together, but may I ask who you are. You're from Theao, though, right?"

"Correct, I am Avin, this is my older sister Corrina, and my friend Helio." Avin said
"Would you mind letting Rangu lick your hand?" Corrina asked, "I know he want's to and it's a sign he likes you."

Viktor Praetora blinked in suprise. Lady Etain, he had heard it somewhere before. It didn't matter, though. The Queen was presently occupied by other guests, so he manuveured to converse with her after excusing himself from a suprisingly tolerable conversation about architecture.

Luckily, the other guests were dragging out their departures for a chance to address a royal host to get there before him, and he was able to present himself as though he were appearing out of nowhere in the crowd. A simple sidestep, and where once there was air there was a Praetoran Priest.

"Greetings, Lady Etain." Viktor took enough of a bow so as to show respect without impeding eye contact. "I am Bloodline Priest Viktor Praetora, of the Praetoran people. Although normally I would begin with a simple compliment or thanks for being invited, I must satisfy my curiousity. I could not help but think that I have heard your name somewhere before I was scheduled to represent the Praetora at this ball. Tell me, have current events put you in the media at all, or has my interest in ficticious novels gotten the better of me?"

OOC: Seriously, there's someone on another game I play who goes by the name "Lady Etain."

"A pleasure to meet you Avin, Corrina, and Helios," she said, smiling at them. She turned her kind smile to his sister, and looked down at Rangu. "Yes, of course." Fearlessly Cora held out her hand, though Daniel, who was still nearby looked on cautiously.

OOC: Seriously, there's someone on another game I play who goes by the name "Lady Etain."

OOC: Interesting. And I thought I was being original. Lol.

IC:
Kishar smiled and was ready to reply to Viktor's bow and formal introduction when he continued. Not tha the was offended, but rather taken by surprised. "Well, yes, I do believe I have been in the media spotlight, at least within Rastaban. I was nearly engaged to a prince of Antiia and I am the queen's heir, thus putting my life under a microscope. I can hardly remember what I do each day, but if I forget I can always count on the media to tell me what I have done."

Corrina tapped Rangu on the ear, letting him know it was okay. He stretched out his feline head and licked Cora's hand from tip of her middle finger to the base of her palm, his tounge soft but raspy at the same time.

As soon as they saw the young lady enter, almost as if some cue had been given, the Nofian trio snapped to a riggid attention. Toma then brought his weapon up to right shoulder arms in four distinct counts, not counting attention.

Tourano smiled weakly at the female escort opposite him. Her suit left little to the eyes, as was the style he supposed. Drumming his fingers on his knees, waiting for the evident view of the Royal Palace to rise around him, he took a glance out of the window and noticed it was already there. The limo slowed to a halt, leaving a brisk silence before being told he could get out of the vehicle.

As Tourano looked over the other guests with a smile not moments later, he noticed the abundance of animals in this place. He thought about bringing his new kitten, but there are things that would just look completely quirky at a winter ball. Besides which, he knew of Rastaban's vast love of dragons, and wasn't suprised to find them loitering about, used as part of the civic populace almost.

He noticed a trio of siblings, maybe they were all brothers and sister... yet no parents seemed to be in view. Power did funny things to youth. He remenissed over when he had won the vote of the people in under 9 months of joining a new, free radical political party, he was only 21 then, and now it seemed miles away, back when he was full of youthful hijinks, and a desire to join the military. He'd given up that thought, but still liked to train, and work out when the time was his. Still a little bit young inside.

The Queen's voice was warm, he chose not to stare at her eyes for this speech that she gave, only looking at her present family who had been introduced. The prince, was a little taller than Tourano, he had the features of a pretty boy, concious of his image, it was fun to watch how different people react amongst a rag tag group of world leaders who had just spent the uncomfortable time of travelling in a cramped vehicle to get there.

He finally decided it might be best to try and mingle, finding a slow approach to the trio of youngsters and the Queen herself. He noted the fuzzy but overbearing lion that was clearly the center of attention, lapping up the current address of the Queen, anybody would have thought he was the star of the show, which made Tourano smile again in mild self humour.

With a final step he chose now was the time to speak up and not try and sound like an idiot who was just in this for the fun of a party.

"Your majesty, gentlemen, and... lady" He smiled and bowed his head slightly to both the Queen, the young girl, and the two boys. "Such a beautiful lion, what reach of the pride is he?"

Viktor nodded, then tilted his head to one side as though contemplating a good point. "I'll have to keep that idea of using the media to keep track of things in mind. I've been in the Praetora's spotlight myself, and it is easy to forget that one can reference said spotlight.

"However, you've brought another question to mind. You are the Queen's cousin, and yet her heir. Is there some sort of issue of lineage that I have missed?"

Viscount Fawlkes had launched into a florid bow as the Royal triplet arrived at the bottom of the staircase, carefully slipping the glass of whisky behind his back as he did so. He rose feeling rather self-concious, realising no-one else had done the same, instead they appeared to have seized the moment and rushed out a fullisade of small talk.

He shrugged, relieved at least that the Praetoran had excused himself to accost the Queen's cousin. Something about the man didn't gel, didn't seem to fit quite right to Fawlkes' idea of nobility. Still, this was no place to be mulling over such things. He raised his glass to eye-level, mumbled "To the Queen," and took a drink.

His enjoyment of the spirit was only slightly damaged by the realisation that a cougar was eating the Queen.

"Your majesty, gentlemen, and... lady" He smiled and bowed his head slightly to both the Queen, the young girl, and the two boys. "Such a beautiful lion, what reach of the pride is he?"
"You'll have to excuse me, I'm not familiar with that term." Corrina said as Rangu licked Cora's hand again. "Also Rangu is a mountain lion, not a regular lion and my companion."

ooc: Just a note on age, Avin/Helio are both 19, Corrina is 21

Tourano smiled and cocked his head at the Lion

"His standing... is he a leader, or a hunter? He's beautiful none the less, really amazing creature"


OOC: thanks for the clearup... had my doubts >_>

"Neither actually." Corrina replied, "Mountain lions arn't members of prides." Meanwhile Rangu had stopped licking Cora's hand and sat down on his haunches.

Avin watched his sister interact with the other guest, while Helio waited to see what would come of it.

Cora wasn't sure what it felt like to be licked by a big cat, but to her felt rather smiliar as to being licked by a domestic one. "He's a fine animal," the queen replied, pulling her hand away. Though she was assured that he was tamed, she wasn't going to chance him smelling something tasty on her hand.

"Greetings, mi'lord," Cora said in response to Tourano.

Kishar smiled, "No, there is not. The queen is not married and has no children. By Rastabite law only a woman may be queen and thus heir to the throne. As the queen's younger sister has married and become ruler of another nation through her husband Princess Cally is not allowed to become queen here," Kishar explained. It wasn't the real reason, but that is what they had agreed upon to say when asked. "And being that the princess has no female child either, than a woman of the blood must be declare heir, even I may not be queen some day once her majesty has a girl. Queen Julie, her majesty's mother and my mother Duchess L'aura were sisters. I am the eldest female relative that is of the blood." If Viktor knew more than Kishar would let him say so, if not then it was all for the better.

A young girll slipped up being hind the Nofians. "No need to stand at attention. They're relaxed royals, or at least as relaxed as royals can be." She was dressed very casual with a black button down blouse, nice jeans and black boots to match. Her pale blonde hair fell around her shoulders is the softest waves and blue eyes looked over each of the men. "Illiana Fritz (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v186/Avalon_Dragon/illianabw.jpg), by the way. Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so forward. Forgive me if I have offended you." She held out her hand to shake theirs.

Daniel, meanwhile, seeing that his younger sister appeared to be safe amongst those from Theao and the man from Kashaar left to greet other guest. He found himself wandering toward three Krovial men. "Welcome," he said. "I'm Daniel. Your the ambassadors from Krovial, if I'm not mistaken." Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the man from Quickening Reaches and made a note to formall greet him as well.

The queen was ignorant to the the all the guest she had to greet either. There were men and women from Mercenary Soilders that hadn't anyone go up to them yet.

'Perhaps this was a bad idea,' she thought, then cleared her mind. No, she had to find someone in the alotted time or else the crown would be taken from her hands and given to her sister, who had already one son. She turned her attention back to the converstation between Corrina and Tourano.

Viktor smiled as he plucked a wine glass from the passing tray of a butler. He takes a sip as he listens to Kishar's explanation, but raises his eyesbrow at the point of Cally. "Well, that makes sense, but I can't help but think poorly of the intellect of Princess Cally's husband. If he has enough authority in the marriage to stop her from pursuing the throne, then he should have enough to tell her what to do if she acquires it. If I had that much influence over a potential royal, I'd do everything I could to get them into power."

The Original Missive

Ave and greetings to Her Royal Magesty Queen Cora of Rastaban,

The Servants of the Senate received your missive a short time ago and his lordship Setaen Jasirin Nessan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Setaen_Nessan), Lord Senator and Lord Censor of Ventuus, High Lord of House Nessan and Lord Marshall Militant of the Dessar System, has expressed his desire to attend.

The Lord Senator will arrive shortly after confirmation of this missive as he is presently in the subsector within which Earth is present on the business of the Senate.

Lord Nessan is presently accompanied by a small company of the Legion Custodes in order to provide protection in his current duties. He will not require a significant military presence with him during the ball, but requests permission to bring small retinue of personal servants to see to his comfort due to certain personal particulars, and in order to ensure that he remains up to date with the business of the Senate.

The Servants of the Senate humbly apologise for the short notice of this missive, and beg your forgiveness for the haste with which it was penned.

With our humble regards and the respect of the Senate,

Tanalin Vasiryn

Herald of the Consuls,
Wordbearer,
Servant of the Senate.

Eternal obedience, everlasting dedication, unwavering duty

[[Assuming the request is accepted....]]

Adevarin System, Ventuusi Outpost, Aboard the bridge of the vessel Inspiration

Setaen Nessan watched space through the vast, vaulted windows of the bridge. Behind him Lord Captain Azasar sat enthroned, cables connecting his mind and body to his ship.

"Next course, Lord Senator?"

Nessan glanced over at the robed Navigator, a small, fussy man with a carefully pressed uniform and the torc of the Ordos Astra.

"Earth. Stable orbit above Rastaban."

"Lord? Where is this nation?"

The Senator glanced over at the man. A faint indication of contempt tugging the corner of his mouth.

"That is your task, Navigator. I serve my purpose, you should fulfil your own function."

The man frowned slightly, before nodding and hurrying off to search the ship's navigatorial archives for a precise location.

As the ship slid into the Subastral, Nessan looked over the vaulted expanse of the Bridge again. He had always admired the effort that went into the Republic's ships, particularly the ornamentations, images and carvings. The engraving and gilding that had gone into the Lord Captain's Autothrone alone was beyond impressive, and beyond expensive. The ornamentation and detail in many areas of the Republic was almost religious, done in an effort to please the Lords.

The Senator remained on the bridge, the white-and-gold uniform option worn by Senators who had a military rank contrasting with the dark uniforms of the Ordos Astra of the ship's senior staff. His eyes watched the shifting colours of the Subastra as the Dauntless-class light cruiser travelled toward its destination.

"Details on Rastaban?"

"Only basics, your Lordship, the Servants could not come up with much information with such little notice, the Republic has paid little attention to Earth since the colonisation, Lord."

The Lord Senator nodded at the words of Hrodanis jho'Kessan, his Archivist. The slender Servant, hailing from the Skycities of Skand, was dressed in the simple white-and-black robes of the Servants of the Senate, his augmentations running discreet wires from the back and temples of his bald head, connecting his Cerebrarchive to the receiver unit hidden in his robes. A pale arm handed the Senator a dataplate, showing what little the Republic knew of the nation that Setaen Nessan had decided to visit.

Setaen scanned the list and notes, nodding now and then while occassionally frowning slightly. He handed the dataplate back.

"Thank you, jho'Kessan."

"My pleasure to serve, Lord."


High Orbit, Earth: multinational world

The Senator and retinue seated themselves in the shuttle, the Nessan clothed in the formal white toga of the Senate, the eight members of his retinue respecitvely clad in the white-and-black of the Servants, the white-and-red of a Senator's personal staff, or the white-and-silver of the Legio Custodes.

A few moments later the shuttle slid easily through the terestrial atmosphere, the Star-and-Beam prominantly displayed alongside the Laurel of the Senate. The richly appointed room for high-level passengers was comfortable enough to forgive the descent speeds and sometimes harsh decceleration, being designed to keep important visitors to the ship comfortable and to give a favorable impression of the Lord Captain.

Only a short while over the descent was complete, with the shuttle landing gracefully at the Rastaban International Airport and the Lord Censor and retinue walking down the exit rank toward the waiting limos, the retinue (excepting the two Legion Custodes bodyguards) carrying the luggage for Senator and his staff.

The journey from the airport to the palace was not the most pleasant Saerat had sat through. He was escorted by his trusted First Cleric, who as Danonian law dictates, was unarmed. On the right side of him in the limo which had been kindly sent back to receive them was Hannik Sarron, the head of the Cleric Guard, weilding two pistols either side of her and constantly looking out the window and at the driver, maybe a little too edgy. On Baraz's left was one of the Cleric foot soldiers, who would not speak unless they had to.

With Baraz having a go at what Saerat looked like, Hannik almost opening the window and randomly shooting at passers by and the Cleric who just sat with his eyes fixed on him, holding his sword rigidly. Saerat got through the whole ordeal thinking about the ball ahead.

***

The limo arrived at the palace, and Baraz jumped out with Hannik.

Hannik immediately pulled out one of her pistols and started looking around. Noticing some of the guards around the building she cocked the pistol. She sensed she was being stared at and so holstered it again. But her view never really left the armed guards, and the other armed guests.

Baraz helped the president out of the back and started walking with him towards the other guests and the queen, "whose picture" Saerat thought to himself "did not do her justice"

The final Cleric stepped out of the limo and started firmly walking towards the other guests without a sound.

The trio about faced and and dismissed themselves, although not before Toma brought his weapon back down to order arms.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," Valerie said and reached out to shake her hand, "My name is Valerie."

Toma then held out his hand for a hand shake, and said, "Pleasure to meet you, my name is Toma Gaiscioch."

Kiley just stood there, still no hinting as to what she looked like behind the dark robe. The only hint to what she looked like was the fact that she had long and black hair which hung down past the shadows of the hood.

Valerie assesed the situation and said, "Her name is Kiley Nessa. Well it has been nice meeting you, but I think we will go greet our host."

Upon aproval of Iliana, they headed through the crowd and towards the queen, their service animals right behind them ever step of the way. As soon as they arrived Valerie waited for a break in the conversation and after the trio popped off a quick salute she said, "Hello Ma'am. My name is Valerie, I come from Nation of Fortune."

The three service animals ignored the other puma present. In the animal world they gave off the vibe that they weren't to be messed with. They were seasoned in battle, and gave an aura that said don't mess with us.

((OOC: I expect you to get Kiley to take her cloak off. Don't worry, she's fully dressed under it.))

Tourano smiled as he was put in his place by the intelligent girl who seemed to take ease in his gross empty headed comments. sometimes being slightly stupid was alright, if it was the right time.

"I havnt introduced myself... I do apologise. I'm Chancellor Tourano. I already know of our Honorable Majesty" Tourano smiled and bowed his head slightly at the Queen mentioning her name. "But who may I ask... am I having the pleasure with right now?"

"I am Corrina, this is my brother Avin and his friend Helio, and this is my Rangu." Corrina said, "What exactly is a Chancellor, it's not something that comes up in my polisci course much."

Viktor smiled as he plucked a wine glass from the passing tray of a butler. He takes a sip as he listens to Kishar's explanation, but raises his eyesbrow at the point of Cally. "Well, that makes sense, but I can't help but think poorly of the intellect of Princess Cally's husband. If he has enough authority in the marriage to stop her from pursuing the throne, then he should have enough to tell her what to do if she acquires it. If I had that much influence over a potential royal, I'd do everything I could to get them into power."

Kishar raised an eyebrow, and smiled slightly, grabbing her own glass of wine. "That is precicely why she shall not be allowed to set foot near it. We've had a queen has the head of our monarchy for over two-thousand years. Never has there been a king, save that he take the name of his wife and be King Consort. And those few foolish men who have tried to control the queen either publicly or privately have found themselves with little more power than your average commoner. It is the queen that rules this country, not her husband nor sons. And it is not to mention that Cally's husband, Emperor Kratos, is a currupt man. Not one who would do well for this nation and barely does justice to his own."

Illiana was please to meet those from NoF, but a little put off when they went to greet the queen, though she did not say or let it show. Cora was queen and thus the attention was turned toward her. The girl did however notice the new comers and was making her way toward them when she spotted a handsome man from Mercenary Soilders. Actually, there were more - three to be exact. 'There is much time for me to mingle with everyone, I'll talk to these three first,' she thought.

Cora turned to face the woman from Nation of Fortune. "A pleasure to meet you Valerie, and welcome to my home. I do hope your trip was pleasent, or pleasent enough as traveling goes."

Viktor nods in agreement. "The last thing anybody wants is to lose something dear to them. Rastaban's traditions regarding royalty, the Praetora's freedom to practice its beliefs, despite their unpopularity outside our borders, we all have our little elements that others might threaten. From the sound of things, you have the throne as well defended as our Patriarch has his."

Cora turned to face the woman from Nation of Fortune. "A pleasure to meet you Valerie, and welcome to my home. I do hope your trip was pleasent, or pleasent enough as traveling goes."

"Our trip was very pleasant, I assure you we have all had much less favorable journeys in our time. I guess I should introduce my companions. This is Toma Gaiscioch, and my shadowy friend over there is Kiley Nessa."

"Pleased to meet you ma'am," Toma said.

Kiley said nothing, her head seemed to twitch for a second, but other than that no response was given from beyond the shadow. Valerie got an annoyed look on her face.

"Please excuse myself and my shadowy companion for a second, we have...... matters to discuss. Please feel free to ask Toma any questions you may have about us or our nation."

Toma looked surprised for a second, and turned to give an objection to Val, but she was already too far away, nearly dragging Kiley behind her.

"Well then, How do you do ma'am?"

---------------
Valerie stopped when they were out of earshot of the other guests.

"Kiley you need to stop this shit attitude your are pulling. Get your head out of your ass and represent your nation."

Silence was the only response, which was soon broken by the sound of Val slapping Kiley.

"I know you watched your mother get killed right before your very eyes, but at least you had a mother. At least you have the comfort of knowing you weren't created entirley in a lab like myself. We're both genetically altered, but at least you have someone to give you hope that ou weren't created solely to kill people. I don't have that comfort, nothing will change the fact that I was created to kill."

"I....."

"And dont' feed me bullshit lines about not being able to go and fight, you may be gifted unlike our escort over there, but I know the second you found out you would never be of use to our special forces agian you immediatly volunteered to do duties such as this."

"You dirty bitch!"

Val immediatly punched her in the gut, and brought her to the ground with Kileys arm in a Russian arm bar.

"Now Kiley, when you get up, you will get you fucking act together, you will take off that damned cloak, and you will fucking greet the queen. Do you understand me?"

Kiley clenched her teeth, her cloak did put her at a disadvantage in this situation. "Yes, I understand," she said through her still clenched teeth.

"Very good," Val said before releasing the hold.

Kiley stood up and brushed herself off, she made no movement to take her cloak off.

"Take it off, or do I have to take you down again?"

"I'll take it off in front of the queen."

"Very well, but if you don't you'll regret it later. Now lets head back."

OOC: Forgive me for not getting around to greeting all those present. If you feel left out just walk up to Cora, Daniel or Kishar. :D

Kishar smiled, "Yes, throne is at the top of all our prioity lists. And as you mentioned, so does seat of Patriarch appear to be. So tell me about yourself, Viktor, if you don't mind me using your first name. I know very little about The Praetora."
______________
Cora did not seemed effected by what had transpired before her. She nodded as Valerie and Kiley left.

"I won't even ask," Cora said, a slight laugh to her voice. "I dare dare say its getting somewhat chilly. Would you care to escort me inside?" The queen waited for Toma to offer his arm. "Then we can continue to talk where its warm. At least for me, I often find myself getting cold easily." She hoped the other would notice that she was going inside.

Sidra, who had been on the sidelines gave a hand signal to the servants to begin going inside too, hoping this would catch the guest's attention and they would follow suit.

OOC: Quite alright. There's a ton of people here and you'll never get around to greeting everyone on the first pass.

IC:

Dekker felt it best to hang back for a bit from the greeting barrage. Fewer casualties resulted from subsequent volleys than the first. In diplomatic terms, you had a better chance of being remembered if you didn't bum-rush the target at the first opportunity...

"You gonna say hello?"

Zion's calm voice to his left threw Dekker from his stupor...

"Yeah, after the line's died down. I might hurt someone trying to mosey in there..."

"Right, like your Conan-wannabe ass is gonna cause a war by bumping into someone..."

"Ya never know, Pete. None of us are carrying, either..."

"You don't need a gun at a diplomatic shoulder-rub, that's what typically causes the wars, not smacking into someone..."

"True..."

The mercenary colonel hung back from the throng, waiting for a good opprotunity to slip in and make an introduction... a little thing he might have to call 'Ninja Diplomacy' if it came off without a hitch...

"Yes, let us continue our conversation inside," Toma said as he held his arm out for the queen to take, a custom he was unfamiliar with, but informed about from Kiley on the trip over. His muscular arms had a gentle feel to them. Most Nofian soldiers aged twenty three would have a more intimidating aura about them, something acquired from years on the battlefield.

Grendal followed beside Toma, looking from side to side, making sure there was no threat. His eyes stopped briefly on the people from Mercenary Soldiers. he stopped for a second, before continuing along on the trip inside.

"I must say, I'm unfamiliar with the customs of your nation, but they interest me greatly. I've always had a fasination with foreign countries, but due to the nature of my country I'm usually unable to learn about other countries," as Toma spoke he turned his head slightly so he could see the queen.

------------
Valerie noticed upon her return that Toma was guiding the queen into the building. She turned to Kiley and said, "Grab his gear, and bring it inside, I wish to check somethign out for my own curiosity."

"Yes Val," Kiley said as she hefted her own back and Toma's onto her back before heading inside.

Valerie headed over towards the men form Mercenary Soldier, Haushinka in tow.

Fawlkes, feeling ever so slightly left out of the gathering and not a little threatened by a large puma paying uneccessary attention to his calf muscles, slipped into step beside Sidra as the servants began to file inside.

"Forgive me for being forward madam, but I can't help but be a little curious. Call it the instincts of an old boy brought up in the wrong kind of system but this whole affair strikes me as a little.. loose. Unsound, even. Dashed impolite of me to say I know, but does Her Royal Majesty take kindly to giant cats and armed strangers?"

He spoke earnestly, but with a strained note in his voice. To the Viscount, Royalty meeting so openly and sociably with ambassadors and commoners was bizzare in itself, big cats or no big cats.

Corrina, Avin and Rangu headed inside while Helio decided to he'd like to speak with Kishar. Walking over, he found her asking about a nation with the moniker of The Praetora and decided to listen to the man's explaination of his country. Avin decided to mingle, while Corrina with Rangu went to find Daniel.

Viktor nodded casually and took a sip of wine as he thought a moment. This was the part that always needed to be handled delicately, as the doctrine of the Praetora, although reasonable when observed, was generally repulsive upon initial observation.

"Where do I begin... Essentially, the Praetora's government is one of a meritocracy: the one with the most resources available is the one with the most power. Whoever that individual is holds the title of Patriarch or Matriarch, as appropriate. The legal system is pretty open ended, but the teachings of the religion that is my homeland's namesake turns what would normally be anarchy into a rather civil and productive society."

The second Kiley made it inside she realized how warm it was inside. She found an unused area of the room and put her's and Toma's bag down. She took off her cloak, folded it, and put it inside her bag. Her garb was slightly different from that of her two traveling mates. She wore the same utility trousers, only she was wearing an olive drab tshirt in place of the blouse and a vest that had many throwing knives attached to it. She turned from the wall and faced the people that were in the area. Her face revealed that she had been in many battles. She was missing one of her lovely silver eyes, and her pale face was laced with deep scars that ran down her neck and under her shirt. Her arms were scarred just as heavily as her face. Several circular wounds adorned her right arm, hinting that she had been shot there several times. She turned and went off in search of Val, so they could at least try and keep mostly together.

OOC: Ventuus please join us as we move to the other room.:)

"Ah, well, I know little of the customs of your country either. To tell you the truth there are so many countries in this worlds, and not to mention other planets, it’s often hard to keep track of what to do that won't offend someone. I try to tread on the safe side, but you'll have to forgive me if I offend you in anyway. Even a queen isn't perfect," she smiled; glad to be in a warmer room.

The walls were decorated with murals of a countryside somewhere in Rastaban. Dragons were the most obvious creatures present, but a large flock of unidentifiable red birds were noticeable too.
_________________________________________________________________

Kishar was intrigued. “I have never heard of a nation set up in such away, but I am glad that you have succeeded in doing so.” She held up her glass to Viktor. “To Praetora and may it continue to prosper.” Her attention for a moment was taken away from Viktor to the young man joining them. “Ah, you must be Helio,” she held out her hand, “I’m Kishar Etain and this is Viktor Praetor.”
_________________________________________________________________

“It is tradition of the Queens of Rastaban to be one of the people, not apart from them. She often let visitors bring their exotic pets,” Sidra said, noting the Viscount’s tone, “but I must admit I was only prepared for one. As for the armed guest they aren’t allowed to carry such weapons this far into the palace.” She motion Carther over and gave him and order and off he went. “I apologize if we seem rather informal, but Queen Cora especially likes to make all her guest welcome and hardly will bother to pay attention to formalities made toward her, though she is always formal toward others. We do not like to step on peoples toes, so to speak.”
_________________________________________________________________

Carther went to the front of the guest. “I do apologize for this in inconvenience, but could I ask that those with arms in plain sight leave their weapons here. Only approved bodyguards are allowed weapons, and those are concealed. Please, if you would, leave your arms with one of the servants. I promise they will be held for you in a private, secured storage facility somewhere in the military part of the Compound. I do not wish to offend anyone, but it is just protocol to keep her Majesty safe, not that were accusing you of anything, but just a precaution should anything arise.” He hated making such speeches as it always made him feel like the “bad guy” for making them.

Baraz noticed the envoy from Mercenary Soldiers, and pulled the group towards them. He approached Dekker and bowed, giving the traditional New Christac greeting "Glory to He who is risen", after noticing Dekker's blank expression he extended his hand "I suppose you would be more used to a handshake" he said slightly embarrassed.

Saerat approached Zion who was standing next to him. "Glory to He who is risen" he said defiantly and extended his arm.

Hannik approached the men. still with one hand on a pistol. She looked them both in the eyes before studying them head to toe. They are either not carrying weapons or they are good at hiding them she thought to herself.

The other Cleric simply followed, surveying the area.

The Senator and his companions removed themselves from the limo, the retinue fanning out into two lines, four abreast, behind their lord with the two armoured and robed Custodes on the wings of the first row.

Lord Nessan noticed the tail end of the guests entering into the warmth of the palace and strode calmly through the entrance a short distance behind the others - enough to seem like an independant party, but close enough to still be clearly seen as part of the same overall group.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Nessan noticed the Custodes and his Archivist carefully noting the other guests - the Custodes as his bodyguards watching for possible threats, jho'Kessan out of curiosity and his desire to catalogue everything and anything. The other members of his retinue, were looking around in a more casual way, with no particular reason to do so other than a mild interest.

Setaen Nessan's eyes were drawn first to the other guests and those he supposed must be the Queen and her own staff, before travelling over the murals and decorations of the area and then returning to the other guests. He was looking at what appeared to be a large coursing cat when Carther interrupted his train of thought with a request that weaponry be taken off them and stored elsewhere.

He gestured with his rod of office, a white rod as long as his forearm, carefully engraved with designs inlaid in gold and bearing the Seal of the Senate at each end, and the Custodes handed over their own batons, each of which could project a focussed set-length energy beam to be used as a blade, or an energy-based projectile, although they both kept the small generator-bucklers strapped to their arms - a defensive item rather than a weapon. Following that came a number of powerknives from both the Custodes and the rest of the retinue, and a few laspistols. Two of the retinue - the Servant Archivist and one of those in the White-and-Red did not hand over any weaponry, something that the Senator seemed to expect. He himself handed over a compact pistol and a powerknife.

Once he was satisfied that the retinue had handed over their arms, he turned to Carther.

"A few of us have weapon-based augmentation-implants which cannot be removed without sophisticated surgery. You have my oath as a Lord Senator of Ventuus, and as High Lord of House Nessan, that these will not be used save in necessity and, as I do not anticipate any likelihood of such necessity arising, they should not be used during our stay."

Kishar was intrigued. “I have never heard of a nation set up in such away, but I am glad that you have succeeded in doing so.” She held up her glass to Viktor. “To Praetora and may it continue to prosper.” Her attention for a moment was taken away from Viktor to the young man joining them. “Ah, you must be Helio,” she held out her hand, “I’m Kishar Etain and this is Viktor Praetor.”
"Yes I am." Helio replied as he took Kishar's hand and planted a light kiss on the back of it. "It is good to meet you Kishar, and you as well Viktor."

"Ah, well, I know little of the customs of your country either. To tell you the truth there are so many countries in this worlds, and not to mention other planets, it’s often hard to keep track of what to do that won't offend someone. I try to tread on the safe side, but you'll have to forgive me if I offend you in anyway. Even a queen isn't perfect," she smiled; glad to be in a warmer room.

The walls were decorated with murals of a countryside somewhere in Rastaban. Dragons were the most obvious creatures present, but a large flock of unidentifiable red birds were noticeable too.
"I guess we can learn about each others cultures together than," he said, a small smile forming on his lips. He glanced around the room, and saw the mural on the wall. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at it. "May I ask what that Mural represents?"


--------
It didn't take long for Valerie to be sought out for the weapons check. She very reluctantly handed over her Browning BDM, but eventually let it go. She was only really going to argue when they tried to take her knife.

--------
Kiley didn't have any problems handing over her tactical vest and all of her knives, she had been to enough of these to know she would get them back.

Viktor had managed to return the toast before Helio's arrival. He took the appropriate drink as Kishar and Helio shared social niceties. He was addressed just as he had finished, and he smiled as he responded. "I return the sentiment, sir Helio. You are here representing Theao, correct? I am from the Praetora."

"Yes, I'm one of the three from Theao, with Princess Corrina, and Prince Avin. And as yet, I am untitled." Helio replied, "So The Praetora is a meritocracy?"

Kishar smiled at the kiss. Though she was of noble blood, it was still nice when in an old fashion (for her at least) way to be treated as such. In response to Helio's comment about titles Kishar said, "Tut, tut. A title doesn't mean everything and this is coming from a woman whom titles should mean everything. Just remember a title doesn't make you a better person. You'll have forgive me, Helio, if I treat you as a noble. I feel its better to treat everyone equally or just for-go all niceties."
___________________________________________________________________

Mr. Carther smiled, "Oh, I did not mean to offend you, High Lord. I only meant the one that you can detach from your person. We do not wish to cause you any inconvenience, milord." He bowed apologetically to Lord Nessan.
___________________________________________________________________

Cora looked at the mural as if to confirm it was the one Toma was referring too. "Ah, it’s suppose to depict the countryside during Queen Cambra the First's reign. Back then not all dragons were tamed, though there was more that had bonded to humans than there were in the wild. The red birds you see are phoenixi. Here in Rastaban these birds of myth have existed since man came and most tales you've heard about them are based on facts, save that only one lives at a time. Bunch of rubbish I've always thought of that." She titled her head as she looked to the mural again, as if considering. "A bit of trivia for you, Toma. The dragon and the phoenix are the official animals of the Queen of Rastaban, being that the dragon represents the masculine decisions and situations I must deal with while the phoenix represents the feminine side, love and compassion for my country." She laughed, looking back to Toma. "I don't mean to bore you. Please tell me to stop anytime."

"Likewise titles are, at least in Theao, more of a burden than a privilage in most cases they are also mostly superfluous. Nobles are in a higher tax rate bracket, can be pressed to serve in goverment and a number of other things that I'm sure would be tiresome to explain." Helio replied while feeling pleased that she'd appreciated the gesture of the kiss, "And thank you for the courtesy, likewise Theao is quite egalitarian, most of the nobility attends public school, with private schools populated in the majority by those untitled."
_____________________________

Avin had approached Cora and Toma and heard here comment on the heraldric symbology of the mythological creatures on the mural. While not speaking, he privately hoped that Toma wouldn't divert Cora as he quite enjoyed listening to her melodious voice.
______________________________

Corrina and Rangu walked around taking in the other guests and the various patterns, designs and items adorning the hall.

"Oh no, no, no, Your not boring me at all. I find it.......fascinating. We don't really have symbolisim like that in my country. I guess the closest we have to that is our service animals. All special forces soldiers will assume a large feline of some sort, all scout/snipers will assume an avian of some sort, the leader or any possible succesors will assume the national animal, and it goes on like that for each area you are put in," he laughed a little, "I guess even though I've been to many countries I've never really had a chance to learn much about them."

Grendal glared at a servant who came by, who was giving Toma funny looks. It took everything the wolf had not to lunge when he pointed at Toma's FAMAS. Toma failed to notice the scenario with servant because he was engrossed in the conversation with the queen.

"Likewise titles are, at least in Theao, more of a burden than a privilage in most cases they are also mostly superfluous. Nobles are in a higher tax rate bracket, can be pressed to serve in goverment and a number of other things that I'm sure would be tiresome to explain." Helio replied while feeling pleased that she'd appreciated the gesture of the kiss, "And thank you for the courtesy, likewise Theao is quite egalitarian, most of the nobility attends public school, with private schools populated in the majority by those untitled."

"Such was the pratice here, in Rastaban until the late Queen Julie lost her second husband and was curropted by her third. The queen pulled Cora, Daniel and Prince Dranon out of public schools and put them in a highly guarded private school. In their last four years of schooling the siblings transfered to semi-private schools," Kishar explained while pausing to take another sip of her wine. "Now it is the fashion to send all children to public schools and then for those that can afford it to private secondary schooling. As you may guess, it's usually the nobles that can afford to send their children to private. My mother was against such acts and has sent all her children to public schools." She took another sip of her wine. "I however am torn between the two. I feel my children should experience a normal childhood as one of royalty can, but I do see the advantage of sending them to private schooling when they are older. Then again, I do not have to decided on such things as I am not married nor do I have any children."

"Oh no, no, no, Your not boring me at all. I find it....... fascinating. We don't really have symbolism like that in my country. I guess the closest we have to that is our service animals. All special forces soldiers will assume a large feline of some sort, all scout/snipers will assume an avian of some sort, the leader or any possible successors will assume the national animal, and it goes on like that for each area you are put in," he laughed a little, "I guess even though I've been to many countries I've never really had a chance to learn much about them."

Grendal glared at a servant who came by, who was giving Toma funny looks. It took everything the wolf had not to lunge when he pointed at Toma's FAMAS. Toma failed to notice the scenario with servant because he was engrossed in the conversation with the queen.

"I don't know if you know," she laughed, "but part of our air force is dedicated to dragons. It was creatively named the Dragon Air Force. There are several colors and sizes of dragons within Rastaban. When they are born young men and women stand as what we've come to term as apprentices. They may be anywhere between twelve and seventeen," Cora said, also missing the servant who was waiting patiently as if he had nothing else to do. "Certain colors may bond, the act of joining minds with a dragon, to certain genders or mind sets. They train for five years as journeymen before entering as novices within the ranks. As heir to the throne and royal I was given the unique opportunity of trying to bond to a dragon when I was younger. I ended up bonded to Etana. She's a white and the largest beast you'll see here in Rastaban. In the hierarchy of dragons whites are the female rulers and all dragon answer to them. They are the rarest but we still have enough of them that things might get territorial and which are why there are many bases for dragons. Usually the eldest white female on the base acts as the leaders of the many flights as well as her own wing. Strangely enough though if the new Queen of Rastaban has been lucky enough to bond to a white all the whites recognize her as the ruler of them all." She sighed, looking back at the mural. "My people have lived with dragons for over two-thousand years but sometimes it feels like we hardly understand them."

At the pause the servant took the opportunity to step forward. "I beg you pardon, Majesty and sir, but I have been asked to collect all weapons as so they may be stored and held for you until your departure from Rastaban."

Toma gave a blank look to the servent. This logic went against everything he had ever been taught. A logic that had been imprinted on him rank in his mind

"This is my rifle.
There are many like it,
but this one is mine.
My rifle is my best friend,
it is my life.
I must master it as I must master my life.
Without my rifle I am useless,
without me my rifle is useless.
I must fire my rifle true.
I must shoot straighter than any enemy who is trying to kill me.
I must shoot him before he shoots me.
I will....
My rifle and myself know
that what counts in this war is not the rounds we fire,
the noise of our burst,
nor the smoke we make.
We know that it is the hits that count.
We will hit...
My rifle is human,
even as I,
because it is my life.
Thus, I will learn it as a brother.
I will learn its weakness,
its strength,
its parts,
its accessories,
its sights
and its barrel.
I will keep my rifle clean
and ready,
even as I am clean and ready.
We will become part of each other.
We will...
Before God I swear this creed.
My rifle and myself are the defenders of my country.
We are the masters of our enemy.
We are the saviors of my life.
So be it,
until there is victory
and there is no enemy,
but Peace.

These words rang in his head as he froze while being asked for his rifle. His mind flashes back to when he himself first said those words, and commited them to memory. Since that day he had never parted with his weapon. Had he not been in a foreign land he usually would have hit the person asking for his weapon. He thought of it as part of himself, just as everyone else with orgins on Nofian soil. Very reluctantly he offered the weapon to the servant.

Helio listened with interest, quite a bit of interest actually as it seemed Rastaban was not as dissimilar from Theao as he believed. "While it's true the majority of children of the nobility attend public school, I did leave out something that is pertinent to the issue. As many can afford it, a great deal of nobles hire private tutors to aid and broaden their childrens education."

As he heard her comment that he was single, he was tempted to jump up and click his heels together as chasing or hitting on a married woman was social frowned upon, while in the crude venacular and slang of some of the youth, a single woman was 'fit for the hunt'.
__________

Avin stepped aside as the servant interjected and requested of the NoF that his weapons be turned over. He also noted the extreme reluctance of Toma in parting with the weapon. "Might I ask a question of you good sir?" He enquired, "Are weapons of religious significance in the lands of Nation of Fortune?"

"I shall place it safely in its own compartment and mark it clearly," the servant said, "we do apologize for the inconvenience, sir. Its protocal." He turned to the Theaon. "Prince Avin, may I take any weapons of yours?" the servant said, placing the rifle around one shoulder, though looking odd as he did so, his clothing clashing with the gun.

Like Avin, Cora had noticed Toma's reaction too. "Are you all right, Toma? You've looked like you've seen a ghost, or worse."

"You could if I were armed, but alas I bear no weapons for you to relieve me off." He replied to the man. He then turned to see how Toma was doing because like Cora had said, he looked like he'd just lost a child or something equally trumatic.

"It's nothing.... Just the last time I wasn't armed was..." He stopped to think about it, "was probably about seventeen years ago. Having someone other than myself take my weapon just seems so strange."

"You've been armed for seventeen years?" Avin asked, "How old where you when you first picked up a weapon?" He was wondering as the man didn't look to be in his early thirties.

"I was five I believe. We are a very....... Militarisitic nation." The look on his face made it seem as if it was a perfectly normal thing to pick up a rifle at such a young age.

"That is quite young, younger even the kids of the children's crusade." Avin commented somewhat surprised, thought it fit closer with his age assessment of Toma, "Did you use scaled down weapons, and if not how could you manage to fire it at that age?"

"No, I've had this same rifle since then. You'd be surprised at how fast the human body can adapt to situations. After a year of intense physical training the weight of it wasn't really an issue. Further physical training only reinforced and made it easier to work the weapon. The physical training regime is second to none. Without any gear I can three miles in a little over sixteen minutes, with a seventy five pound pack, my rifle, and a uniform just like the one I'm wearing right now I can run the same distance in about eighteen minutes. I can do endless amounts of pushups and situps, and at least fifty pullups."

It seemed strange for him to talk about his nation like this. He never thought any of this was strange, and wouldn't have hesitated talking about his nation like this, but some of the reactions he was getting hinted that he shouldn't tell all about the school system.

"Let me just say better you than me." Avin said as while he was in very good shape, and could, just possibly, manage the three miles in under seventeen minutes, he knew for flat out certainty he couldn't with the gear listed. He was also no slouch in the push-up and sit-up department, but the chin-ups would be very challenging indeed, if not out of his reach.

Lord Nessan inclined his head toward Mister Carther.

"I am not offended, of that I can assure you - we have similar requirements in Ventuus itself, and I understand the necessit for being certain that your ruler is safe from attack. It is custom in the Senate to announce whether or not you possess implant-weaponry, and failing to mention it can be construed as a hostile act among some of the Noble Houses."

The Senator smiled gently as he explained, the multi-system Republic had numerous cultural differences within territory, from the formal semi-Roman attitudes of the Ventuus and Dessar Systems, to the to the egalitarian Tynasatari perspective or the rigid hierarchies of the Skandi Sky-Cities and Mountain Hives, resulting in most Ventuusi automatically explaining seemingly strange habits and customs.

"I wonder whether I could ask a favour of you, whether there is a servant who could direct my retinue to somewhere to deposit our bags and storage devices?"

As he spoke to Carther, he kept one ear on the conversations around him, mentally noting the Nation of Fortune's comments as being similar to the customs of several of the Skandi Hives. Meanwhile, his retinue continued paying attention to guests, architecture and conversation.

Viktor decided to fade out of the conversation for a moment. Arguing was never very sociable, and the matter of titles gained through birthright never sat well with him. However, the conversation seemed to be shifting toward the side of education he favored. "It seems only reasonable that those that can afford to pay for a better education. Provides a strong foundation to rebuild on the payment, and gain a profit in the long run. We all want our legacies to endure, after all. What better way than to give them every advantage available?"

Setting his empty wine glass on the passing he tray of a butler, Viktor turned his attention toward Kishar. "Besides, I doubt someone from the high end of the economic caste system, especially of royal birth, would find more in common with those who's families cannot afford private schools than those from wealthier families. I myself learned this from my parents' inability to understand it."

OOC: Sorry, won't be able to make a full reply tonight. Have to work way early. Grr.

Baraz noticed the envoy from Mercenary Soldiers, and pulled the group towards them. He approached Dekker and bowed, giving the traditional New Christac greeting "Glory to He who is risen", after noticing Dekker's blank expression he extended his hand "I suppose you would be more used to a handshake" he said slightly embarrassed.

Saerat approached Zion who was standing next to him. "Glory to He who is risen" he said defiantly and extended his arm.

Hannik approached the men. still with one hand on a pistol. She looked them both in the eyes before studying them head to toe. They are either not carrying weapons or they are good at hiding them she thought to herself.

The other Cleric simply followed, surveying the area.

"Hail Mary?"

Dekker managed to stutter while returning the bow like something out of a kung-fu movie, he wasn't the most religious of men, but still gratefully accepted the handshake...

"Colonel Dekker Bray, pleasure to meet you..."

He noticed the man's eyes wandering across his frame, stopping on likely places to conceal a handgun...

"And no, I'm not carrying anything. Flying commercial these days doesn't take to kindly to my carrying a forty-five under my arm on a seven-forty-seven..."

Zion had a bit better luck. A Catholic raised, he had a better idea of what to say...

"And glory to you, my friend. Sergeant First Class Peter Zion, pleased to meet you..."

Jack's attention was distracted, this sort of thing never interested him. He held up his cell phone towards Dekker, indicating that he should call later after this shin-dig was over and done with. Dekker nodded before turning his attention back to the man in front of him...

((Sorry about not being around. I had OOC issues lately which have finally dissolved))

Drake had managed to stay in the background of the little party thus far, his long black hair tied back as he talked with his advisor, Karth. They'd given their weapons at the front already, which comprised of two automatic pistols and a knife or two. They were expecting as much, but brought them just to be on the safe side.

"Well Karth, I guess you weren't lying when you talked about Rastaban. Its rather enviormentally stunning." He said with a smile as he sipped from a wine glass, his back leaning against the wall, rather relaxed, "Its rather sad in a way, since by comparisen Yurka is rather barren in most places."

Karth stared at his ruler for a moment with a pleasant smile on his face as he ran a finger through his blonde hair, trying to gather his thoughts, "Perhaps you can take your vacations here then my lord? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"No, the people might think that I've turned my back on Yurka. But a little trip to Rastaban every now and then wouldn't be so bad... By the way, have you seen Alan? Hes not doing anything embarassing is he?"

"Eh, hes looking for more drinks. I'm sure he won't do anything embarassing untill he finds some. Though seriously, if he gets too tipsy we can always send him back to his room. I'm sure our escorts might be getting a bit bored waiting there anyway."

OOC: I think we can afford one bump.

((OOC: Did this die?))

[[Looks like...

Would someone please ressurect it? It looked like a good thread, maybe a move into another room would kick it off again?

V]]