It's Good To Be The Imperator ~ (Oltremaren Internal RP)

[Congress Aresura]

The Doge's Personal Chambers, The Palace of Doges

Monteferrato, The Most Serene Crowned Republic of Oltremare, Italo-Sarmatia

21:40 Local Time​

The faint sigh of air escaping from cushions of the luxurious, burgundy-leather bound executive chair could be heard as the exhausted man sank into their welcoming embrace, wishing he could bury himself in those cushions, shielding him from the rest of Europe, the good, and the bad. Especially the bad. However, even Doge Francesco Ceretto VII, formerly Giuseppe Ceretto, knew such wishing was pointless and a waste of time. He had to listen to this damnable report at the end of a damnable day, all stemming from a damnable action over a damnable people following... well, a damnable faith.

"All told, Your Most Serene Excellency, seven nations have condemned our actions so far, or nine, if you count those corrupt puppets of Oikawa, Transpurgistan and the Sarmatian Republic..." grumbled the Chancellor of His Most Serene Excellency, Giuseppe Emmanuel. A tall, gangly man that reminded the Doge of a scarecrow, his balding head could not divert attention away from his impressive, grey mustache that looked like it belonged in the late 1800s, nor those piercing grey eyes that seemed to penetrate your skull and see inside your brain. To be honest, Francesco never liked him, but he had been pressured to retain him as the Chancellor to satisfy the conservatives in Oltremare who absolutely adored his father's reign, and perhaps specifically his anti-Catholic policies which the son was now, albeit unwillingly, emulating.

"Five nations have also offered to take in the Catholics, including the Grand Duchy of Aquitania," the venom in the Chancellor's voice could not be hidden, he had a low opinion for the descendants of the Templars, "the Empire of Wiese, the Unity Front of Varjhal, the government of Helia, and the Talemantine Empire. The Talemantines have even offered to pay for the transportation costs of the Catholics, and the Helians have privately approached some of our diplomats offering other incentives..."

'God... he's talking about the Catholics like they are cattle, or inanimate objects, not people!' the Oltremaren Doge thought to himself as he managed to keep a neutral expression plastered on his face.

He snapped out of his internal thoughts in time to see a particularly impressive scowl cross his Chancellor's face, "And then there are the Papal States, establishing air connections to get as many of their 'flock' out as possible. The Constable does not know as of now how many are expected to take this path, but he has indicated his readiness and willingness to block the Pope's actions-"

"That will not be necessary." the Doge interrupted, managing to take Giuseppe Emmanuel. 'I am surrounded by zealots and frightened children...' "If the Catholic people are willing and able to leave for the Papal States, then we will not stop them. That is the whole point of this damnable event."

The Chancellor remained somewhat taken aback for a second, before regaining his composure. "Of course Your Most Serene Excellency... but you do realize, though, that those Catholics will likely greatly influence Papal policy towards our nation..."

"How? By making the Pope hate us more than he and the rest of the Catholic world does already? I wonder if that is even possible." Francesco realized his sarcastic tone was unnecessary, but his patience was wearing very thin. "I have also heard my Steward has expressed his concern over this whole issue?"

A stiff nod, "Indeed, Your Most Serene Excellency, the Royal Steward has made it clear no good can come economically from this move, especially if the Kingdom of Belmont makes good on its threat and brings this to the Council of Nations. Nevertheless, he did express his support for the Constable's proposal, as did I."

"I'm well aware of who supported those orders." Francesco snapped, now at an end of his patience. "I am beginning to wonder now, my dear Chancellor, if I actually made the right decision with that damned order."

The Chancellor hesitated, before stiffly replying, "I understand that Oltremare is in for tough consequences, Your Most Serene Excellency, but in the long-term this was the best solution for the problem that nearly claimed your life." Without thought, Francesco's hand moved to the scar on his jaw from the shrapnel of the bomb that exploded... it seemed like ages ago now... "Besides, I have said it before and I will say it again, the Catholics could not, cannot, and should not be trusted. They are a paranoid, violent, prideful, and stubborn group of people, and must be taught humility, or forced to leave before they cause anymore harm."

'Are you sure you're talking about the Catholics, or my own people, my dear Chancellor?' Francesco thought as he scowled, dismissing Emmanuel with a wave of his hand. "We shall speak more of this later, I must rest now."

Giuseppe Emmanuel bowed, "As His Most Serene Excellency wishes..." and left the luxurious room.

The door shut, and silence descended upon the room once more, as the most powerful man in Oltremare, so it was said, stared at the opposite wall for a minute, before his head leaned forward to rest in the palms of his hands, whispering, "What have I done... oh God in heaven... what have I done...?"

 

[Congress Aresura]

The Doge's Personal Chambers, The Palace of Doges

Monteferrato, The Most Serene Crowned Republic of Oltremare, Italo-Sarmatia

18:43 Local Time​

"Your Most Serene Excellency please, be reasonable! You can't just pardon a thousand Catholics, especially when almost half are certainly guilty of committing crimes against you and your people, and the rest, if not before, are certainly willing to join the former later!" The shocked words produced a light echo in the chambers of the Oltremaren Doge, filled with luxurious furniture made from rare materials, paintings from both in Oltremare and from Oltremare's immediate neighbors covering the velvet-covered walls. It would drive a communist mad with rage, and make a thief drool rivers from the amount of valuables in this one room, only one room in many filled with the valuables of a nation fit for a Doge.

Francesco's father had been to thank for that. Immediately after the Great War, the Palace of Doges had been burned out by the communist hordes, with most of the treasures evacuated beforehand fortunately, and once King Giacomo IV was coronated, the first thing he did was throw all available resources into rebuilding the capital of Oltremare, and the capital's capital, the palace. It was supposed to symbolize Oltremare's unquenchable endurance in the face of the most dire of threats.

To Francesco, it was a vain attempt to distract from the fact that Oltremare had almost ceased to exist in that war.

"Who says I can't, my dear Chancellor? You? The Constable? My people? Last I recall, I was the Doge, the leader of what is for all intents and purposes an absolute monarchy. Did that change when I was not looking? It's certainly possible, there have been many events that have kept me busy for some time now."

Sputtering in indignation, the Chancellor was interrupted before he could reply by Henryk Piast, the Constable and third person in the room. "You are the Doge, Your Most Serene Excellency, both I and my colleague realize this. But we are your advisors, and we are merely doing our duty to advise you that this is an ill-considered move."

"You should talk..." Francesco thought to himself, "Or have you already forgotten the idea to deport the Catholics came from you first, and started this whole chain of events?"

"If these extremists are released and allowed to leave for the Catholic West, they will haunt us, Your Most Serene Excellency. Unlike most of the moderates, they will not be relieved to have made it out of our country, but instead do what it takes to come back and extract revenge."

"In most cases, I would agree. However, I have received an offer from a nation willing to take them and make sure they do not do exactly that." Francesco responded, noting with grim pleasure the momentary surprise on his two advisors' faces.

"Which nation would that be, Your Most Serene Excellency?" Giuseppe Emmanuel finally responded. "Can we trust their words?"

"I think so. The nation in question is Helia."

Understanding appeared immediately in his Constable's eyes, the Chancellor's only a moment later. "You see, my paranoid advisors? This pardon is not a blessing. It is a condemnation. Helia will turn them into slaves, the women into birthing machines, the men into cannon fodder. And with this gift, Helia will, when called, provide soldiers for any cause we find ourselves involved in."

"A wise move, Your Most Serene Excellency..." Henryk responded, a new respect shown in his posture.

"Make sure the press does not report where the Catholics are going. We have already given the Catholic west enough to rage about."

Giuseppe smiled, "Not a word, Your Majesty."

As the two advisors bowed and left the room, the business concluded for the day, Francesco got up to prepare a shower for himself. "I wonder how long a talk I'll need with the Almighty to explain what I have done..."

OOC: This has been approved by the player Helia.

 

[Cúlanor]

As the ship lumbered over the waves, a fine mist sprayed over the bow. It was massive, containing a huge cargo bay. It was an RORO ship, originally intended by its manufacturers to transport vehicles and other wheeled and tracked equipment. However this ship was going to be carrying more than motorized equipment today.

Two other similar ships followed behind it, just as massive as this one. Finally land began to appear on the horizon. As it drew closer, a large port began to materialize. Vicenza was one the horizon, and as the ships anchored, massive doors began to open and a ramp began to lower. Stone faced soldiers poured out, taking up positions near the ramp.

A long column of trucks rumbled into the port. Pulling up nearby, they began to unload their cargo. The cargo however was not what one would expect. Although the appearance of armed soldiers brought question to the nature of this exchange, it would have become obvious to any unauthorized spectator that this was not an ordinary exchange.

Women. Long lines of shackled Italian women began to shamble out of the trucks. Within moments, hundreds of women had appeared in the dock, surrounded by armed security guards. Over 1,000 prisoners, 700 of which were female, were loaded onto the ships. The soldiers, a Helian security detachment dispatched to ensure everything went smoothly, pushed the prisoners into the cargo bays of the ships.

As the last of the prisoners were loaded onto the ships, the soldiers disappeared with them just as abruptly as they appeared. Within minutes the ships had set off again, and the column of trucks had driven off.



The exchange never happened.

 

[Congress Aresura]

The Doge's Personal Chambers, The Palace of Doges

Monteferrato, The Most Serene Crowned Republic of Oltremare, Italo-Sarmatia

23:11 Local Time​

"It appears that the Catholic west cannot recognize mercy when it sees it..." Francesco Ceretto VII grumbled as he sunk into his red leather executive chair, almost pouting, listening to the wind howl outside.

"All the Catholic west sees is a blight on the earth that must be wiped out, Your Most Serene Excellency..." began Francesco's spiritual advisor, and the Chrestomanci of Oltremare, Giuseppe X, "No matter what you do, they are too blinded by hate of our way of life to recognize the actions for what they truly are. Should you do something they approve of, they will see it as you bowing to international pressure. Do something they disapprove of, they will cry out that you are the devil incarnate on this earth."

Fixing the Chrestomanci with a raised eyebrow, Francesco muttered, "I hope not all Catholics think in extremes like that my friend."

Giuseppe shrugged. "Not all, no, Your Most Serene Excellency. Just the ones in power."

Sighing, Francesco closed his eyes to think, reflecting on the report sent to him by the Council of Nations Oltremaren representative, Maurizio Vento. Apparently, the Catholics were quite adamant that the safety, well-being, and whereabouts of the Catholic extremists be given. Most especially one of Oltremare's most vocal critics, the Templars from the Grand Duchy of Aquitania.

Obviously, at this stage Francesco couldn't say where they really were. He highly doubted the Catholic west would approve of Helia being a destination for the extremists, no matter their crimes. For that matter, neither did he, but it was a necessary move, so said his Chancellor time and time again. But he couldn't stay silent either. That would raise questions. Far too many questions.

"Damn!" the Oltremaren Doge cursed as he hit the arm of his chair in an outburst of frustration.

Chrestomanci Giuseppe was unmoved by the outburst, "Do not worry, Your Most Serene Excellency, God provides for the righteous all that is asked for."

"Then I'm out of luck..." Francesco thought as he resumed his thoughts, then he paused. "Chrestomanci, most of the extremists had been convicted of crimes, large and small, correct?"

Blinking in momentary confusion, the leader of the Oltremaren Unitarian faith said, "I believe so, Your Most Serene Excellency, but I'm not sure how..."

"Tell the Chancellor to contact Talemantros about sending them the extremists, and tell the Constable to meet me at once, with information on our maximum security prisoners."

A longer pause before the Chrestomanci responded, "Yes, Your Most Serene Excellency, but aren't the extremists already...?"

"Yes dammit, of course they're already gone to Helia. But the Catholic west does not know that. No one but the highest echelons of government of Oltremare and Helia know that. Let us kill two birds with one stones, as it were: let us take 1,000 of our undesirable criminals and tell them they shall have a second chance at life outside Oltremare if they maintain that they are Catholic extremists, and tell the Talemantines that we are sending them extremists, pacifying, for this issue, the Catholics."

Understanding slowly crept into the eyes of the Chrestomanci. "I see... I shall do as you command, Your Most Serene Excellency."

As Giuseppe got up to leave, Francesco leaned back into his chair and thought, "I wonder how long this will distract the Catholic world before they find something else wrong in the deportation... I'd say 12 hours..."

 

[Congress Aresura]

One Mile To Aresurai Capital Daeva

The Most Serene Crowned Republic of Oltremare, Italo-Sarmatia

05:11 Local Time​

The noise of the transport helicopter continued to echo throughout the empty, rolling plains of the Most Serene Crowned Republic despite its distance from the landing pad, where the authority of the urban based Oltremaren unofficially ended, and the realm of the nomadic Aresurai began. And this was their capital, in the loosest sense of the term, Daeva, that the Oltremaren Doge was currently riding towards on horseback. It radically differed from what most Europeans expected as a capital of a nation. It was more like a small, second-rate, backwater town at best, its only note-worthy feature being the almost literal sea of colorful tents that currently surrounded it. But to a people like the Aresurai, who often refused to stay in one place for longer than a week, this was a capital, and to reside in it for the traditional month was a radical change from their lifestyle.

One would've also expected the helicopter to go all the way to Daeva, as would be expected for a head of state and government, but Aresurai tradition dictated that one only approach the nomadic "capital" on horseback, or on one's own two feet. Not to mention this was a very special event that was coming. The reason why the King of the Most Serene Crowned Republic was coming to Daeva, and why all Aresurai who could come were coming, and why both would stay there for exactly one month barring catastrophic emergencies, was because of a tradition that went back centuries, some say to the founding of Oltremare in 1000 AD, the Feast of the Two Peoples, as the Aresurai called it. When a new Doge of the Most Serene Crowned Republic was coronated, he must meet the gathered nomadic tribes of the Aresurai people, receive their oaths of loyalty, as well as their latest plunder from international banditry and piracy officially condemned by the Most Serene Crowned Republic, and take an Aresurai wife.

And Francesco Ceretto VII was not about to spit in the face of these people, especially at a time where he felt he needed them now more than ever.

Besides, riding in the almost endless emptiness, save for the bodyguards that almost seemed to eternally be at his side, even when they were not visible, as well as the growing "capital" of the Aresurai, was quite soothing. It gave him a chance to relax, spread his wings as it were, after the barrage of issues, problems and events that had been mercilessly pounding on him ever since he became Doge. True, he would still be barraged, as this was, despite official posturing, an absolute monarchy, and he needed to run a nation. Instead of doing it in a stuffy palace, however, he would be out here, in the near-wilderness of the country he led. It would be a nice change of pace at least.

He still remembered the latest issues that fell into his lap after metaphorically bashing him in the head a couple of times. The first was the selection of the Talemantine Empire as a destination for 1,000 Catholic extremists still left in the Most Serene Crowned Republic. The problem was that the actual extremists were already gone, probably living a life of absolute hell in Helia by now. And the Catholic west wanted verification of the extremists, or things would get a lot more complicated. So, the solution was take 1,000 of Oltremare's most hard-bitten criminals, doing life or sentenced to death for crimes such as murder, rape, the usual.

He still remembered the speech his Constable gave to the various prisoners. "Listen up! It has been decided by His Most Serene Majesty, merciful and generous to all, even the undesirables of the Most Serene Crowned Republic, that a second-chance at life be given to some of you. In exchange for a full pardon for the despicable crimes you have committed against him and his people, you will be sent to the Talemantine Empire, under the guise of Catholic extremists. You will be given information about the extremists you are masquerading as, and you will keep this guise to all you meet, be they foreign or fellow ex-citizens. And do not forget, you will be watched, at all times, by our intelligence forces, to make sure you keep to this guise. Failure to do so will result in instant liquidation, no questions asked and all knowledge about you forgotten. Keep to your guise, however, and you will be free to do whatever you wish, within the realms of Talemantine law, and most importantly, be free to have another chance at life. Who is willing?" Many were willing, and after excrutiating weeks of psyche evaluations and tests, along with loose physical matching, 1,000 prisoners had been selected, conveniently disappeared from the prisons they were kept in, and were at this moment being shipped to the Talemantines, who had been told they were receiving extremists, but to keep a close eye on them regardless, and take all the "extremists" said with a grain of salt.

The second was the beginning of a deal reached by his Chancellor a few days ago in the frozen tundras of the Commandry. With publicized and visible representatives of RusEnergy and RusExport arriving to begin construction of a nuclear power plant in Novara, another group of arrivals, far more secret, were arriving with a valuable cargo of nuclear weapons. Nuclear weapons, strategic and tactical, that would once entering the borders of Oltremare, were the Oltremaren nuclear weapons. This was something that was to be kept secret to all, even the Cassiopeians, for they would probably not react well to a deal by the Most Serene Crowned Republic behind their backs, especially with the Kyivans.

One could also not forget the forging of a multi-lateral alliance in the Tsardom of Vittoria. Things had passed by so fast, probably because most of the time the Doge had been focused on his wine, not to mention he wanted the issue over and done with so he could rest.

And now a new issue was here: the acquisition of wives for the Doge. Despite the legality of polygamy in the Most Serene Crowned Republic, a law that was one of the main causes of Catholic hate, Francesco was the last of the line of Cerettos. This was primarily because of the Great War, and the Purge of Doges initiated by the eastern communists during the invasion of Oltremare. His father, one of the only survivors of the purge, had taken five wives, but was successful with only one son. The rest were miscarriages, or deaths at birth, or other complications. Many suspected it was a wound he had received at an early age during the Great War, a wound that seriously impaired his ability to have children, and it was frankly a miracle that Francesco now existed. Some suspected foul play, but independent medical examinations confirmed that the current Doge of Oltremare was no bastard.

He was legally allowed to have five wives, two more from the usual three because of the special circumstances, and one traditionally came from the nomadic peoples of Aresurai, as a sort of binding contract between them and the rulers of Oltremare. Only a handful of Kings had dared breach that tradition, and each time they ended up regretting that choice. That handful included Francesco's father, and he paid for it with the Oikawan-led creation of Transpurgistan in the 1980s, after a major Aresurai revolt coinciding with the revolt in Cassiopeia.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Francesco was surprised to see he was already almost at the edge of Daeva, representatives of the Aresurai tribal leaders riding forth to meet the Doge. His bodyguards watched the Aresurai riders warily, but Francesco had no such caution, or at least didn't display it. Instead, it was enthusiastic excitement he showed as he greeted the Aresurai in their native, Turkic language. "Peace, prosperity, and partnership upon you and your peoples." he stated, right hand raised in greeting as his horse slowed to a halt. The riders responded likewise, and turned back towards Daeva, heralding his arrival.

The Feast of the Two Peoples was about to begin.

 

[Congress Aresura]

Aresurai Capital Daeva

The Most Serene Crowned Republic of Oltremare, Italo-Sarmatia

05:58 Local Time​

The quietness of the Oltremaren plains had been quickly replaced by the bustle of human noise once the Doge of Oltremare had entered the 'boundaries' (and that was a stretch of the term) of Daeva, the so-called capital of the nomadic Aresurai peoples. The people there, like the tents they resided in, were dressed in bright, flashy colors that almost resembled the reflection of a rainbow in a rippling pond. They shouted orders, comments, and curses in strange tongues that the Doge barely understood, for they, like the people, seemed to blend together in a seething, colorful and noisy mass that sharply contrasted with the serene surroundings.

Instead of feeling overwhelmed, however, Francesco Ceretto VII felt excited, this was such a change from the stuffy, rigidness of the Palace of Doges back in Monteferrato. Even the bustling capital itself, day and night, could not compete with Daeva. The lights there, while brighter, were too artificial, too focused on commercial advertising, rather than a genuine display of culture. The sounds, too, were more artificial in the Oltremaren capital, for they had no passion, no truly human quality behind them.

Politely refusing the loud, harsh requests of merchants to buy their goods, and nodding his head to those who bowed to his presence, the Oltremaren Doge followed his Aresurai escort to one tent that towered above all the rest, wrapped in cloths dyed black, gold and white, shining in the sun like a precious stone and demanding attention due to that, and its size, Francesco estimating it to be similar to a large, modern house.

As they reached the entrance, his escort had him halt, and one went inside through the large tent flaps, presumably to herald his arrival. Composing himself, Francesco waited as he heard the noise inside the giant tent slow to a halt, then one booming voice shouting, in Aresurai native tongue, what must be his name. Barely acknowledging the nod from the rest of his escort, he confidently strode into the tent, the sudden transition from overwhelming brightness and reflection of colors to dim, flickering light of torches made Francesco's eyes go temporarily blind as they struggled to adapt.

When he finally reclaimed his sense of vision, he was struck by how medieval the inside of the tent looked. Tables being adorned with coverings of many different colors, flanked by seemingly hundreds of cushions that served as seats filled his half of the tent. In the middle, in and around the circle of sunlight that managed to find its way into the tent and give some ventilation to the otherwise smoky interior, an open space, presumably for entertainment such as dancing. And in the back, thrones of cushions set high above the rest of the interior, filled with the nomadic leaders of the Aresurai tribes, gathered here today in the Doge's honor. His honor."

Now confident his vision was as good as it would get, he took large, confident strides towards the Aresurai leaders, noting the silence around him, all inside watching his every move, unsure of what to suspect. First impressions would dictate much of what would happen for the next month Francesco was here. It had, once, cost the life of one past Doge who felt he was far superior to the nomads here, and had gotten himself killed for his arrogance before the month was up.

That would not happen with him.

Stopping just in front of the gathering of Aresurai leaders, Francesco dropped to his right knee and bowed his head, speaking once again in Aresurai, his accent clearly betraying his origins, but his articulation fortunately made up for it. "Peace, prosperity, and partnership to you all, Honored Leaders of the Aresurai Peoples. I, Francesco Ceretto VII, Doge of the Oltremaren peoples, request your collective permission to intrude myself into this Feast, and pray that it shall in no way detract from a Feast that shall be remembered for ages."

Standing once more, he stared straight ahead, to no one in particular, and waited for unofficial judgement to be passed. He had added on to the base statement he was required to make, as many Doges had done, to better establish their personalities to the Aresurai and, thus, acquire their trust more quickly. He had gone with humility, to contrast from his father's arrogance, but it was a gamble. If they thought him too weak, they would ridicule him behind their praises and promises of support. But if they responded well...

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, guffawing boomed out from one of the Aresurai in front of him, and considering the way he was dressed, he must have been one of the more prominent of the Aresurai nomadic leaders, if not the unofficial leader of the others assembled. He then said, "Francesco, the Humble." The Doge's heart skipped a beat. "Your presence is most welcome here. Let the Feast of Two Peoples begin!"

A collective roar of approval rocked the tent, and with the blowing of an ancient, somewhat gnarled, but otherwise well-preserved horn prompted the explosion of new noise throughout Daeva. One now unified in its pleasure, that the Feast was officially underway.

And through it all, Francesco had a relieved smile. So far, so good.

 

[Congress Aresura]

Aresurai Capital Daeva

The Most Serene Crowned Republic of Oltremare, Italo-Sarmatia

19:42 Local Time, 8/4/2010​

Roaring with semi-drunken laughter, Francesco the Humble, honored guest of the Feast of Two Peoples, applauded with all the other Aresurai, commoner and leader, as the acrobatic actors took their bows and retreated from the center of the main tent, having just executed a complex and spectacular series of stunts, and drawing one well placed snarky comment from one of the observing actors.

What the act had been about, or more specifically its plot was, by this point, relatively unimportant. The alcohol buzzing through the Doge's mind would've rendered anything more than a simple, straight-forward plot as an incomprehensible mess. And even that was not guaranteed.

Regardless, it mattered little. About a week had passed since the Feast officially began, and each passing day never ceased to blow away the Doge's mind in it's complexity, both in planning, execution, appearance, sound, smell, even touch. His senses were constantly assaulted by bright colors, loud noises, exotic smells and materials, Francesco was barely hanging on to what he supposed was reality while the Aresurai put on a show, their leaders over the day making formal pledges of loyalty to the Oltremaren Doge, a ceremony that would continue to the last day.

And Francesco was having the time of his life.

Signaling for another obscure, alcoholic Aresurai drink, whose contents the Doge doubted he wanted to learn of, he exchanged pleasantries with the Aresurai tribal leader next to him, his name unremembered for it was too obscure even for Francesco's grasp of the Aresurai language. He was a wizened old man whose face resembled the side of a weathered mountain. Ancient, stoic, but full of a serene pride, of inner contentment. It was something Francesco had decided to strive to achieve before he was called from this earth, but the high stress of his job as the Doge of Oltremare made that seem impossible.

"So far, at the beginning of every day, sir, I expect to have seen all you Aresurai can offer, and every day I am taught that it is just the tip of the iceberg. You will forgive my innocence, for I had no idea the Aresurai were so full of this culture... you and your people seem to be a world of your own." Francesco said, face somewhat reddened from the drink he proceeded to gulp down after his small speech.

The old Aresurai paused for a few seconds, as though marshaling his thoughts, "This is because the Aresurai have not lost touch with our surroundings... the Oltremaren have."

Francesco replied immediately with a puzzled look, bordering on offense. "How so, sir? We are a people devoted to the preservation of our land, our people, our faith, from enemies beyond our borders. We know that, without our unity, we would all perish, lose our uniqueness. It seems, sir, as though it is the Aresurai that have forgotten what lies out there, in Europe, not the Oltremaren!"

Once again, the man paused, longer now, forcing Francesco to notice the looks given to him by other tribal leaders surrounding him. They were the looks given to an ignorant child, one who refused to see the facts before his or her eyes. Some irritation, but mostly pity. It only increased the Oltremaren's anger, but before he could challenge them in his stupor, the old tribal leader broke through at last.

"You mistake your paranoia for the real world. Rather than see it for what it is, you and your people wrap yourselves in your own fears and desires, blinding yourselves to the truth. Your hate, your anger, your fear, all these passions, they make the world simpler, but they also make it a lie. We Aresurai do not have these self-inflicted wounds. We simply see the world as it is, and adjust to it. The Oltremaren, seek to change the world to something they believe, and something they better understand. For better, or for worse."

Stung by the rebuke, Francesco refused to reply, partially from his sulking attitude, but mostly because he did not wish to make a further fool of himself. He wanted to go back to the sights, sounds, colors in front of him, forget this humiliating conversation with this old man. This old man, who led a tribe of a handful of members, for all the Oltremaren knew. Who was he to tell him, the Doge of Oltremare, what was truth and what was a lie?

As time went on, though, Francesco couldn't help but look back on what he said, as well as what the old man had said, and feel a growing sense of guilt. He had acted like his advisors, back in the Palace of Doges. Paranoid, with a somewhat sick sense of pride in that paranoia. He was sickened by it at the time, hated it, and yet... did he not display that same appearance just now?

His self-analysis was interrupted by the next group of entertainers approaching the center of the tent, now with a roaring bonfire taking the place of the absent circle of sunlight. These entertainers were Aresurai women... very beautiful women at that. Dressed in exotic clothes even the most liberal of teenagers would hesitate at wearing, at the start of the music they began to dance.

All attention was drawn to them. They demanded it, perhaps unconciously, with every step they took, every position they moved their seemingly boneless, almost etheral bodies in, their hair adorned with colorful cloths and jangling, precious metals, making occasional halos over their heads. Set in front of the fire, reality was left in the dust and smoke as their pace quickened with the mood-setting music.

The audience joined in with the percussion of the drums, clapping out a slowly quickening beat and encouraging the women to dance faster, more passionately, but not a word was said. There was none that needed to be. This was almost a sacred moment, demanding no interruption small or large.

One of the women drew away from the group and approached Francesco, craving and achieving his full attention. Her skin was a light, creamy brown, as if she had been under the sun all her life. Her figure was something killed for by the young, enhanced by her dress, its colors failing to draw the Oltremaren's eyes from her face. It was almost teardrop shaped, at times seeming like a sculpted goddess of ancient religions. It was the eyes though, as black as the night, with the reflected fire shining like the stars. There was passion there, but also intelligence, and what surprised Francesco the most, that same sereneness all Aresurai seemed to possess. A sharp contrast from her dancing, but at the same time, seeming to be an enhancement.

And suddenly she moved off to rejoin the group, joining their crescendo with the music, until they finished in almost impossible poses. The tent erupted in applause and cheers from the very satisfied guests. Pleas for continuation joined compliments, some lewd, some polite. The women retreated from the center, and it was then that Francesco realized his jaw was hanging open in awe and wonder.

Reddening from something other than the alcohol, he took a sip of it and leaned back on his cushion, attempting to act as though it never happened. But he fooled no one, he was sure of it.

After some hesitation, he turned to the old tribal leader who had rebuked him... God, it seemed ages before, not a mere minute or two. Francesco asked, "... why don't we, the Oltremaren I mean... why don't we know of this... this...?" Words failed the Doge, but for the first time, the Aresurai leader smiled, enhancing his craggy features.

"Because, until now, you have not bothered to learn."

**

OOC: Please be sure to note the date above, ICly, is the eighth of April, when this post SHOULD'VE happened.

 

[Congress Aresura]

Aresurai Capital Daeva

The Most Serene Crowned Republic of Oltremare, Italo-Sarmatia

18:10 Local Time, 15/4/2010​

"Most Serene Exellency of the Oltremaren, I, Captain Serkan Kuzuou, present to you a gift, to seal my loyalty to your person and your deeds. Behold-"

'This is truly silly...' Francesco thought to himself, barely suppressing a sigh as the -nth Aresurai "captain", who was likely wanted dead or alive in multiple nations, prattled on and presented the latest of the long line of technically illegal gifts that would, when this whole ceremony was over, would have to disappear and be quietly absorbed into the national treasury before its previous owners could make any accusations. There were one or two items that would be kept due to their value and beauty for Francesco alone, but it'd cost money to make sure they stayed his, most of that money probably coming from the rest of the gifts.

The Aresurai didn't even look like a pirate captain... at least the romanticized kind. Sure, he was dressed up in colorful silks that probably were the fashion a few centuries ago, but underneath the pretty colors, he looked like a petty criminal, a wallet snatcher or lowlife murderer, deserving of little more than a prison cell, at best. Francesco did not trust his presence, but the other Aresurai allowed him in, so he supposed he had to tolerate the man's presence.

Halfway through the Feast of Two Peoples, the initial fun of it all had worn off, replaced by the dull bureaucracy of loyalty and oath swearing that belonged in feudal times and, in a way, reminded the Oltremaren ruler of Monteferrato, which he wanted to escape. True, the last week would return to one last burst of entertainment and excitement, but that week could not come quickly enough, in Francesco's humble appearance.

There was also a small sense of urgency, which didn't show as Francesco nodded vaguely in response to yet another gift the Aresurai captain was presenting, almost not even trying to pay attention anymore. A wife needed to be taken, and although it was primarily for ceremonial purposes, this was a serious matter, considering the status of the Oltremaren royal family, not to mention the consequences of making such a choice. Marriages for pure politics were not popular anymore. They ceased to be popular centuries ago. Any such marriage here would, while satisfying the Oltremaren and Aresurai people, would not satisfy Francesco and possibly his future wife at all. And frankly, that was unacceptable.

"And now, Your Most Serene Excellency..." Captain Serkan Kuzuou cut into Francesco's internal monologue, causing the Oltremaren leader to snap back into attention somewhat visibly, "May I present my last, and most assuredly final gift to you?"

'If you go away and leave me alone, fine...' "Of course Captain. I am eager to learn what it is..."

A sly smile crept on Kuzuou's faith as he dug a grimy hand through his silks. "I am pleased, Your Most Serene Excellency. What I present to you... is your death."

A loud bang erupted from the Captain-turned-assassin's person, though where was unclear, and what felt like a hot, metal glove punched Francesco in the shoulder, knocking him backwards to the floor mostly in shock. That reflex saved his life, as two more shots filled the tent before the clamor of the Aresurai and Francesco's bodyguards replaced the sharp noises. Only dimly aware that there were people bending over him, he struggled to speak, surprised by the effort required. "No... I'm alright. I think he missed... I just fell... I'm alright..."

Slowly being eased up, his senses of sound, sight and touch coming back bit by bit, Francesco struggled to focus past the crowd of concerned faces and bodies surrounding him, attempting to find that damned Aresurai assassin who dared to kill him. There appeared to be a pile of bodies just below what passed for a "throne" Francesco occupied a few seconds ago, the flamboyant silks of the assassin visible here and there, and occasional flashes of metal in one part of the silks.

"My lord! You're hit!" a voice cried, maybe from one of the bodyguards, barely getting through the ringing in Francesco's ears. Struggling to maintain focus, Francesco looked down at his left hand, unaware it had been on his shoulder all this time, to find it splattered with bright, red liquid. For some reason, the sight made him further lose his grip on his senses, but one thought managed to plow its way through the interference.

Blood.

His blood.

"Funny... it... it doesn't hurt..." Francesco managed to say before falling out of reality.

 

[Josepania]

The Imperator's Personal Chambers, The Palace of the Imperators

Monteferrato, The Holy Tiburan Empire of Oltremare, Italo-Sarmatia

08:17 Tiburan Time. 27/7/2010​

The sky outside was a solid, steel grey, with a light blanket of fog slightly muffling the otherwise busy capital city of the Holy Tiburan Empire. Looking out through one of the ornate windows, windows that could've been found in a temple, Francesco VII observed a small piece of the lands he ruled at work. Further to the north, like ants in a colony, the Oltremaren would also be running to and fro, completing the daily tasks set before them by their family, their friends, their bosses, by themselves. Would they feel as Francesco did now, if presented with the same issue he was currently facing? Would they think about it from a different perspective? He did not know, all that was certain was that it was his issue, and it was a whopper in his eyes.

"Chancellor, how have our relations been with the Talemantine Empire?"

Behind him, gruff, tough and seemingly always looking for an argument, the Imperial Chancellor to His Imperial Tiburan Majesty, Giuseppe Emmanuel, paused for the briefest of moments to do a quick history check in the cabinet that was his mind. "Historically, cordial, tending towards friendly, though with a few instances of disagreements. We have always respected their claims to the Tiburan Empire to the south, though for some time they claimed the north, our historical half of the pie, as it were. There were also some disagreements, mostly by past Oltremaren Emperors, as to who was the superior Emperor. Currently, relations are quite good, especially after our show of support for their intervention in Akhaltsikhe, as well as our subtle offer of some forces to join their Coalition... on that, Your Imperial Tiburan Majesty, the Imperial Marshal still thinks such a diversion from the war with Freiheit is quiet unwi-"

"I have heard enough criticism from the Imperial Marshal, Chancellor, that I do not need it repeated from you. We are only sending a token force, immaterial in the conflicts in both states, and I will hear no more of it." Bowing in respect, the Chancellor remained silent as Francesco cooled down from his minor outburst. "Besides, the conflict in Akhaltsikhe is not the point of this discussion. The point is the possibility of improved relations with our southern brothers."

"Certainly, Your Imperial Tiburan Majesty. I can arrange a meeting with Talemantine diplomats the minute our discussion is concluded. What, exactly, do you have in mind?"

Francesco smiled, "Future union of our Empires."

If Giuseppe had a monocle, an article Francesco thought was perfectly appropriate to the stern man, it probably would have popped out by now. "Union? I'm afraid I don't quite understand Your Imperial Tiburan Majesty..."

"It's actually quite simple, my dear Chancellor. I feel it is time to take real steps towards what both our empires actively strive for: the revival of the Tiburan Empire, that force of civilization that dominated the ancient world for so long and brought so many advances, politically, economically, socially, militarily. Separate, our empires have a near vertical uphill battle towards achieving this goal, even with our Sarmatian allies to the north. United... it may make the battle that much easier to accomplish. The time is right, dear Chancellor, to take the first true steps towards bringing civilization, and unity, to the world."

Giuseppe nodded in agreement. "Understood, Your Imperial Tiburan Majesty, by your leave, I shall make preparations to contact the Talemantines immediately."

"Do so."

The Imperial Chancellor departed, no doubt visions of a modern, revived and united Tiburan Empire dominating the globe on the same scale as the Empire of Greater Oikawa running through his head. The Holy Tiburan Emperor's thoughts, however, were somewhat different. He saw a truly independent Tiburan Empire, still allied, but independent from the whims of Greater Sarmatia to the north.

'We may be the adoptive brothers of Sarmatia... but in the end, we are Tiburan, and we must return to our roots, if only to save us from any future quagmires our bloodthirsty Sarmatian allies drag us into...'