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Summit on the High Hill (Attn: Chernovy)

Oneida

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The Rose Palace had buzzed with activity as a frantic staff crisscrossed its halls. They shined polished every piece of glass, shined each of the thousands of gold pots and vases that dotted the entirety of the Palace. They intricately replaced every lightbulb on every chandelier that was no longer lit. Cords sprawled across the long hallways, powering the roars of vacuums hell-bent on finding every last speck of dust. No dust mite was no safe. There was no refugee for clutter or imperfection.

It was all in preparation for this moment – the arrival of the Kaiser of the Empire, Joseph V and the Crown Prince, Rudolph. In the earlier years of the Kaiser’s reign, he had visited the Palace quite frequently. While located in Kalosca – one of Harkány’s larger cities – it was several miles away from the urban center and deep into the dense forests that surrounded the city. It was isolated, secluded and removed from the pressures of the Imperial Family.

It wasn’t hard to see its allure as a refugee. With exception to improve necessary to ensure safety, the Palace was identical in 2018 to how it was in 1239. Well, truth be told, the heraldry of the Harkaner Kings of Old was replaced with the heraldry of the Carinthian Emperors as opposed to the heraldry of the Carintho-Harkaner Kaisers. This, too, was particularly alluring to the Kaisers who were of an exclusive Carinthian bloodline.

The Kaiser and the Duke of Hallein, Prince Rudolph, had arrived the night before. They caravan was noticeably smaller and more discreet than what usually travels with them. The Rose Palace’s usual staff had been cut to make it more manageable for the Paladin Guard. The Paladins searched their ranks to fill whatever position could be replaced from the regular Palace staff.

Chancellor Furst’s motorcade arrived in the early hours of the morning. He had spent the night in Kalosca, having dinner with Prime Minister Nándor. When his motorcade pulled into the parkway in front of the Palace, the Paladins immediately approached.

“Herr Chancellor,” the Guard bowed “Allow me to welcome you to the Rose Palace. His Majesty, Kaiser Joseph V, has requested an immediate audience – he asked I apologize for the haste.”

“None needed,” the Chancellor responded. He had been used to being whipped around by the Kaiser. He would have been more shocked if given even a minute to breathe before presenting himself to the Empire’s most powerful egomaniac.

The Chancellor entered the Grand Hall of the Rose Palace. A base color of white, with gold trim, and red accents adorned virtually every structure in the palace from the intricate, high ceilings, the marble flooring, and furniture. It was a large, rectangular room with the Grand Staircase sitting directly across from the entrance. Immediately at the top of the Staircase was the entrance to the Kaiser’s personal quarters. Atop the door was the double headed eagle – the symbol of the Carinthian-Harkaner Dual Monarchy conceived from Joseph III himself.

When the Chancellor walked through the doors, he was brought straight to a dining room that had large Burgundian doors leading to an outside balcony, overlooking a now frozen lake. In the center of the dining room sat the Kaiser and the Prince.

“Your Excellencies,” the Chancellor addressed them both at once, a slight perhaps only a man of his position can do, bowing.

“Chancellor Furst,” the Kaiser did not rise from his seat “It does the heart warm to see you again.” The Kaiser spoke as if they did not meet for a weekly lunch that had not been cancelled in four years. The Kaiser was a man of great girth. He had a taste for the all the riches and privileges of his position and dressed himself accordingly. Despite that, he was a boisterous man who fancied long nights of drinking more than any stately meeting. It had taken a great deal of convincing to get him to attend. He had grayed in his later years and wrinkles covered his face – despite the fact he was only 65. His rosy red cheeks did help compliment his dull, gray eyes. A well-kept beard hid his double chin.

“Likewise, your Grace,” Furst nodded his head and turned his attention to Prince Rudolph. Had genetic testing not proven it, no one would suspect that Prince Rudolph was his Father’s son. Rudolph, at 28, was a striking young man. He was tall and slender, with muscle reminiscent of a man who goes to the gym regularly but just can’t build the physique to match. He had blonde, perfectly combed hair with not a single strand out of place. His face was clean shaven – but that might be more attributed to his complete lack of ability to grow facial hair. His green eyes were bright and noticeable. He was dressed far more conservatively than his father. His clothing was perfectly tailored to the exact measurements of his body and they were rigid enough to force him to maintain a constant, proper posture.

“Herr Chancellor,” the Prince spoke, softly and cordially “Welcome to the Rose Palace.” He extended his open hand, in the direction of an open chair. The Chancellor nodded and took his seat.

“Do you not find it odd to invite the representatives of the Harkaner’s ancestors to Harkány and bring no Harkaners to meet them?” The Prince asked – directly and spontaneously.

“Believe me, you don’t want Nándor here,” The Kaiser interjected before Furst could answer “That insufferable man would act as though he was an actor in opera and make the Chervonians all the more uncomfortable.”

“With respect,” the Chancellor moved to answer the Prince “The Chernovians are here to meet with representatives of the Empire, not Carinthia nor Harkány individually. I had dinner with the Prime Minister last night and explained the situation to him. He understands fully.”

“I see,” the Prince answered.

“Well I hope he offered to pay,” the Kaiser jabbed Furst in the arm, laughing. “to the serious business though, these Chernovians are to arrive within the hour. Dear Chancellor, do tell us why you thought it so necessary to bring us to this meeting.”

“Of course, your Grace,” the Chancellor pulled three identical binders out of his brief case. He handed one to each of the men seated at the table. The Prince immediately opened his while the Kaiser let it stay on the table. “Let us begin.”

@Chernovy
 

Beautancus

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Things being what they were in Radagora, or Chernovy as a whole for that matter, neither of the Krutop brothers were sorry to be able to drink in the welcomed change of pace - and very nearly necessary diversion - this pivot away from the apparently now ever-present and never-ending cascade of crises gripping the Sovereignty. Both would have died before admitting as much, especially the elder of the two, Radomer, President of the 15th Regency Council of the Sovereignty of Chernovy. To do so would have been an immediate sign of weakness to his rivals, both within and without the labyrinthine mechanisms of the state and the Sanity Party - a tacit admission thereof, even. His chief of staff and brother Vadomer, a decade and more his junior, was long since noteworthy for being very difficult to pry an admission out of, for any cause or thing.

Carinthia-Harkany bore a cultural significance to the Chernovyhoric bourgeoisie often called inordinate by the more rudely isolationist amongst that same class, that in a number of ways that didn't conform to the typical list of reasons for the often fairly sheltered, albeit fairly large Sovereignty to take interest in maintaining - or strengthening - diplomatic and military ties. That said, anyone with even the faintest understanding of the modern history of the Chernovic nation had a better than fair grasp of the gravity behind that significance. The very forging of the modern people - their institutions, commercial enterprise and martial tradition - was accomplished in Carinthia-Harkany more than a century and a half ago, as much as it was in Radagora, Korolevska or anywhere else. Without the "Karentii," and their "Kar," there would have been no Kir the Black, certainly not as the man history had required him to be - and thus no modern Chernovy. This was to say less than proper of the even more ancient ties between the two nations - though it was perhaps less than polite to linger on the original homeland of the Harkany.

The internal dynamic of the Empire mirrored that of the Sovereignty in a number of ways, though as was very nearly always the case in the family of Eastern Nations, Chernovy found itself often burdened by an overabundance of ethnically divided and justified circles of government within circles of government with administrative divisions within subdivisions. It would have been a fresh change, the senior Krutop mused, were the Khorūz and their princes the only other voice that required one of Radagora's ears. One such Khorūzi princeling had even been included in Krutop's rather imperial entourage, and a particularly blue-blooded one at that - from the Tivunijani Dynasty that had for so long now maintained dominance over the city and oblast that bore their name, Tivuna.

Farhād was a good pick for inclusion in their special delegation, for a number of reasons that Radomer hoped wouldn't go to waste over the course of their stay. The Khorūz, the 'Zoroastrian' Serkhorūzi (or Tivuniak) variety that the ruddy and gray-eyed, surprisingly clean-shaven Marzaban* hailed from were not known for the same, often prudish, habits and sensibilities of their largely Orthodox countrymen, and never had been. Far from being rendered the outsiders of the highest born, the Zoroastrian variety were the most ancient, cultured and tamely exotic bylya modern Chernovy had on offer and preserved some of the more infamous habits of the Late Antique World that had yet to yoked to the moralizing Cross.

The elder Krutop fumbled open his customarily customized cigarette tin, drawing the younger from his study of this far most historic portion of Kolosca than the airport which they'd had to make due with in the earlier morning hours. Though Vadomer wasn't a smoker himself, he kept lighters habitually for this purpose, and had the elder Krutop happily puffing away near instantly. "I have a sinking feeling that the damned volcano isn't going to hold long enough for us to get back home," Radomer stated flatly and with absolutely no preface. A sigh and slow, barely perceptible head shake provided his response. Finally, having had long enough to form his thoughts, Vadomer very carefully responded, "Best not to bring that up until something is said, there will be enough baggage on our end as it is. As unseemly as our tardiness already is, we had best put on the most cheerful face we can for the real big-shots."

"Speaking of," Regent Krutop nodded ahead of their car some ways, rings of smoke trailing. The Rose Palace was now coming into view, the last leg of the ride proving to have been far shorter even than either had expected or been warned. "Very nearly showtime then I suppose Vadya," Radomer smiled wolfishly. Never failing to play the aggrieved and put-upon younger sibling, the Chief of Staff shot back - "Please, for the Love of Mary, Damp Mother of God - do not call me that in front of the Kaiser!"

Sharing the chuckle eased the Regent's nerves further, which was very well. Even after all the preparation, the sudden gravity of where he was and who he was about to be sitting across the summit table from was truly setting in.

All told, it was still far better than watching more oil - and petroblocks - than God could probably count go up in flames with a few hundred of the most watched television personalities in the Sovereignty. Not for the first time this trip, Radomer Krutop (and his aging, not entirely unworked heart) had to remind himself to just forget that Arrety even existed. Pivot outward, pivot outward and away from the fire-pit...he told himself again, as their standard-issue black government sedan prowled through the gates and, finally, onto the business at hand.













Marzaban- a class of higher (very nearly royal) nobility that the multitude of modern Vostochnoslavjansky (most numerously the Chernovyhory) highborn lacked, something like a Dauphin-Margrave hybrid

 

Oneida

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Kaiser Joseph IV could not help but smile at the news of the Chernovians’ arrival. Joseph IV was the son of Kaiser Bernhard II. Bernhard the Hard, as he was mockingly called, had such a strong love and devotion for his son and his own DNA that he saw no other proper name for his son than that of Joseph. It had been tradition of the Kaisers to not select an heir apparent sharing the same name as the God-King, Joseph III. It was believed that such a dignified title was best left to those who were above men. This proud tradition carried on until Bernhard II decided it was ever so necessary to name his son after the God-King. And thus, another Joseph occupied the throne of Carinthia-Harkány. Joseph IV, not failing to recognize the gravity of his own name, decided it would be best to name his first born Rudolph, the same name that Joseph III had bestowed upon his first-born. Perhaps unfortunately for Joseph IV, his first born happened to be a girl and not a boy. Undeterred, he named his second born and first son after the God-King’s son, Rudolph.

Chernovy held a special place in the heart of any Carinthian or Harkaner, but for wholly different reasons. To the Harkaner, Chernovy was a distant grandfather, the birthplace of their people – their reason for existence. Their language, culture, and customs, all had distant roots in the distant land. Sure, scholars and academics argued over just how deep the connection between Chernovy and Harkány was, but every true blooded Harkaner knew the truth – to be damned with the academics.

To the Carinthians, Chernovy was a different concept entirely. For the large part of the nation’s history, it ruled over the Harkaner. Even today, the Carinthians hold a much stronger cultural, political, and economic footing than the Harkaner. The Harkaners came from Chernovy, so in ever-so-distant a way, Carinthians had a natural supremacy over the Chernovians, a “big brother” to the Chernovian “little brother.” After all, it was the Carinthians who trained, guided, and created Kir the Black, the Founder of Chernovy. That being said, in a typical narcissism that only the Carinthians can exude, the Carinthians themselves founded Chernovy.

Even more significantly, Joseph IV bore the name of Joseph III, the man who ruled at the time of Kir the Black. In a manner of speaking, Joseph IV was baring down on the result of one of his namesakes’ greatest achievements. To some, it would have been a humbling moment, to Joseph IV, it reinforced his strength, prowess, and character.

“President Radomer Krutop, Chief of Staff Vadomer Krutop,” the Kaiser roared “It is my honor and privilege to welcome each of you to the Empire of Carinthia-Harkány.”

The Kaiser quickly waved off the escorts of the Chernovians. It was simply the Kaiser, Crown Prince, Chancellor, and the Chernovians in the room, along with their translators, of course.

“Gentlemen,” Rudolph stated in very imperfect Chernovian “I echo the words of my Father and am humbled by your presence in the Empire.” The foreign words meant absolutely nothing to the Kaiser, who shot his son a weird look, to which the translators quickly informed the Kaiser of the Crown Prince’s words.

“President Krutop, Chief of Staff Krutop,” Chancellor Furst then went, translators moving quickly “Thank you for taking the time to visit. I do hope your travels were uneventful and pleasant.”

“Before we get into any official business,” the Kaiser lead the conversation, pausing too briefly for the translators to properly keep up “I wanted to give you both a gift – a symbol of Carinthia-Harkány and Chernovy’s historic bond in brotherhood.” The Kaiser quickly waved and two soldiers approached, holding an end of a long wooden box.

As they stood in front of the Chernovians, they unlatched the hinges on either end and lifted the lid. Inside the box was an intricate, beautifully crafted saber. A spotless, immaculate blade was forged along a beautiful golden handle that had the double headed edge carved into it – the symbol of the Kaiser. It had red and green tassels hanging from the hilt. It was clear the blade was not new, but had been preserved intricately through the ages.

“Gentlemen,” the Kaiser explained “Here you see one of the sabers used at the graduation ceremonies of the Kaiser Maximillian Military Academy. This was one of the first sabers to ever dawn the double headed eagle, symbol of the Dual Monarchy – a symbol that Joseph III himself conceived. This particular saber is special because it was used at the same graduation ceremony that had in attendance, none other than Kir the Black and Kaiser Joseph III. There are ever so few of these sabers left and none of them have ever seen land outside of the Empire…but it is my privilege to allow this one to be the first.”
 
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