The Wien Affair

[Thaumantica]

A Budget Motel in Wien
A Day After the Start of the potential World War

"I do not think the Feds will come," Neal said, brushing off his boots before presenting himself in full wear Ostmarkian drab to his counterpart Karagh, a speaker of Tarusan.

"I do not think the Tarusans will come!" Karagh replied, buttoning up her own East European mock to fit in with the local style. "Do we have one who speaks Ostmarkische?" she wondered for the first time after being flung hard and fast on to this diplomatic mission.

"They say the world speaks Engwahlian with us," Neal replied, "but my report says a Fed is in tow speaking this . . UGH, OUCH, MEIN OUCH, THINE EARS-IN-THE COO . . "

". . Fine," Karagh replied, "at least there will be civilized tongues at play. Are you some kind of idiot Neil?"

Neill was busy, nodding, and packing way his Clover apparatus with a satellite link home to Caitekurke then. "Some kinda, you're kinda eh?" he replied, worrying then that the device might not link up in the frenzy of war. Regardless, the invitations for the Feds in Westernesse and the Empire in Tarusa had been sent and the Engwahlian man and Nievish Lass were set to meet in a casual Ostmarkian Cafeteria, a window to Eastern European curations, and hard seats not encouraging to sit too long.

When arrived Karagh ordered the Tarusans a chai tea while Neal ordered the Feds coffee. Karagh asked for a fruit drink boil herself, while Neal brought his own flask from the Nievishland.

 

[The Federation]

Eric Hasenkamp was selected from the Federation embassy in Wien to meet with the delegations from the Communal Order and Tarusa, but he was confused by the seemingly clandestine nature of the meeting. He imagined they would be meeting in a more formal locale provided by the Ostmark government. His mother and father had immigrated to the Federation many years ago during harder times in Ostmark and Eric had been given the opportunity to serve his government in the homeland of his family, he spoke Ostmarkian and knew the city like the back of his hand.

Eric entered the cafeteria wondering exactly how he was supposed to figure out who it was he was meeting in the first place as he had no idea what they looked like. "Do Nieves always operate like this?" He thought as he weaved through patrons and tables looking around, he had heard stories of their secretive nature. He did not have to look long though as his ear picked up clearly foreign accents amongst the din of voices in the cafeteria, he turned and saw the two Nieves, they might have dressed the part, but despite the attempt to blend in as locals their voices and mannerisms were not of Ostmark.

He walked up to the table and set his briefcase down, feeling overdressed for the occasion in his Westerman made suit. "Good morning, Eric Hasenkamp at your service." They offered him a coffee and he thanked them and sat down. "So no Tarusans yet? I doubt they will come, if you ask me."

 

[Thaumantica]

"They're late, but you're less late than the rest, so have a bow!" Karagh told the Feds, these judging Wester-types. Neil meanwhile was pressed into his Clover Apparatus concerned at a declaration of a third Broken Badger along the Csengian Canal.

"So nice to have ya' Laird Hasenkamp, and not a moment too soon, can I run a plan from Caitekurke past ya'?"

Neil peered against into his device, which required a password rest while he was learning what to say, before asking the following:

"We do not think ye Westermen believe in a thing beyond your brawn, beyond your dear weapons, and we know that when your forces are broken on the continent you will sue for peace!" Neill condemned.

"Ebria and the Rheinbund, the signers who marked the Valls Pact are fattened pig cowards," he continued, "but we think ye the same. It hasn't come home yet, to stand up for somethin' and suffer. You're just a petty individual, Laird Hasenkamp."

"But ye speak more Ostmarische than I, or Neill, and we have a date with both them and the Tarusans later . . " Karagh intervened.

"We must be mor formal, Neil, I will be more formal: we also will demand that the Empire of Tarusa formally withdraws all entities of support from in whatever remains of the Gothic Sea Pact."

Neill interjected with a push at Karagh with: "but it isn't that easy, your men have blood in the water and at this moment while we blabber we are dying. All Nordische claims to Al-Maghreb, as we block their claim to the Gutnish we must appear to let them be at eased in Himyar."

"Konstantine is an idiot brother of an inbred asshole," Karagh said of Ivan, "but we will make a peace with him for now, fine, let's lay the borders as we do agree between Prydain and Engwahl . ."

"As fine as that's worth!" Neill complained, still pestering with his Clover.

"As fine as more don't die because we all are too stubborn with these stubborn lot from Kremylov, I'm sorry Mister Hasenkamp, but we have a chance here to stop kin and kind from dying tomorrow if we give this a chance?" Karagh tried. "We do not take a great stock in statecraft in Nieveland, and I would not know you from a demon or a mime, but can I grab your hand now and ask ye to be a Christian and pray with me despite our differences and join me to put this fight to its shadows?"

 

[The Federation]

Eric stayed silent as Neill had his tirade about what he thought of Westerman. Normally this would get a rise out of him, but it was not use firing back here when he'd never see this people again when this all said and done.

"The Federation is willing to endorse these compromises as long as we get a ceasefire and the borders of all involved remain the same. Any failure to secure that and we will have to see whether Neill here is right about Westerman resolve in the face of overwhelming odds. My bet is he's wrong." Eric said with a smile.

Eric was slightly taken aback by Karagh's request, he hadn't prayed in years and he was barely what anyone would call a Christian by any stretch of the imagination. He always heard about how deeply religious Nievelanders were but never gave it much thought beyond it being a curiosity one might read about their country. Nonetheless he felt compelled to take her hand and nod his head in prayer. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

 

[Thaumantica]

". . should we die this eve and wake with thee good God I know that Laird Hasenkamp will . . " Karah prayed before Neill stood and slid his cafeteria chair in a screech.

"Shush Karagh, the meet is on, do apologize to the little laird there. Mister Hasenkamp: Caitekurke and Charleroi have secured a meet with those ones in Kremylov, or din't y'know?" Neill asked with feigned concern.

"'Course he ken'it Neill, he's paying his manners as all Westermen do" Karagh rebuked. "I hope the ones from the East March are as gallant as he and not dullard as thee."

Indeed a meet was on between the Federation, Thaumantic Order, and the Tarusan Empire. While the fighting nation in Nieveland from the Thaumantic coalition was ready to settle things here, in the dankness of this cafeteria, more decadent minds such as new Commisar Linc Yeovil of Engwahl knew that the Empire and Federation needed to play their roles of forum and decorum beyond the smut a common Catholic Nieve traded in.

In this @Ostmark was turned to set the stage to host an Empire, a Federation, and a wayward Order of Nations to sort out a conflict that seized and froze a world.

 

[Ostmark]

In the dimly lit budget motel cafeteria, as the clandestine conversation unfolded, an inconspicuous figure quietly observed from a nearby table. Dressed unassumingly and hidden beneath a pair of dark sunglasses, this individual was no ordinary cafe-goer but a seasoned operative of the Staatsnachrichtendienst—the State Intelligence Service of the Republic of Ostmark.

Years of experience in the intelligence world had honed his skills, and he had perfected the art of covertly surveilling conversations like the one taking place before him. His presence here was no accident; he had been tracking these discussions with a watchful eye, aware of the significance of the participants and the potential impact on his nation and the world. As Neal, Karagh, and Eric delved into the complexities of diplomacy and war, the agent remained stoic, absorbing every word and nuance. His sharp instincts told him that this secretive meeting held the key to a delicate balance of power, and he was determined to understand every facet of it.

When the conversation reached its zenith, the agent rose from his seat and approached the table with an air of unyielding authority. He presented a badge—clear evidence of his affiliation with the State Intelligence Service. There was no need for pleasantries or niceties; the gravity of the situation required a no-nonsense approach. He then informed them of a forthcoming meeting, arranged at the Palast der Republik in Wien. "When the time is right, all participants are expected at the Palast der Republik here in Wien."

With his mission accomplished, the agent retreated as quietly as he had appeared, leaving the diplomats to ponder the gravity of their situation. His background as a former agent of the State Security Service of the People's Republic of Ostmark was a well-kept secret, known only to a select few who understood the depth of his expertise in matters of internal intelligence. As he vanished into the shadows, the stage was set for the next chapter in this secretive and high-stakes diplomatic drama, where the fate of Europe hung in the balance.

 

[Ostmark]

PALAST DER REPUBLIK
WIEN, OSTMARK.

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In the heart of the historic city of Wien, nestled along the shore of the Gothic Sea, lay a place of great significance, a place where history had witnessed both the darkest days of Grasserism and the subsequent miraculous rebirth of the Republic of Ostmark. It was here, at the Palast der Republik, that the destiny of Germania and Europe was to be decided once again, in the shadows of secrecy, far from the prying eyes of the world.

Wien, a city steeped in rich history and adorned with architectural marvels, had borne witness to the transformation of an entire nation. Once the center of the National-Syndicalist regime, its streets had echoed with the authoritarian rhetoric of a bygone era. The imposing structures had served as the epicenter of a regime that sought to impose its will upon the people, and the scars of those days still lingered in the collective memory of the inhabitants of this small nation.

However, Wien had also been the stage for a remarkable renaissance. Following the fall of the regime in December 2020 and the rebirth of democracy in January 2021, the city underwent a profound transformation. The palpable tension that had once gripped its streets had given way to a sense of renewal and optimism. Wien had become a symbol of the nation's resilience, a testament to the indomitable spirit of the Ostmarkian people.

The economic miracle that followed the dark days of dictatorship had turned Wien into a thriving mittel-Germanian city—a hub of commerce, culture, and diplomacy. The scars of the past had been replaced by vibrant neighborhoods, bustling markets, and a skyline adorned with the symbols of democracy.

And now, within the hallowed halls of the Palast der Republik, the leaders of Ostmark convened once more. Staatsprasident Karl Albrecht, the figurehead of democracy and a beacon of hope, would sit alongside Kanzlerin Karina Berger, a steadfast and pragmatic leader, to chart the course of Germania and their nation's future. The world remained oblivious to the meeting, but within these walls, decisions of immense consequence would be made.

As the delegates from the Federation and Thaumantica gathered, the air was thick with the weight of history, and the echoes of the past resonated in every corner of the grand building. The only delegation missing, for now, was the Tarusan delegation. Wien had evolved from a city in chains to a city of liberty, and now it stood poised to shape the destiny of Europe. In this city of contrasts, where the scars of oppression mingled with the promises of progress, the meeting at the Palast der Republik would unfold in secrecy, a symbol of Ostmark's unwavering commitment to peace, even in the face of the gravest of challenges.

 

[The Federation]

With a meeting set between the Secretary of State from that faraway Federation in Westernesse, the Almskeeper of the Catholic Revolutionary State joined his counterpart in more appropriate and befitting chambers such as that set by Ostmark in Wien.

General Hely, the Nievish Almskeeper, had lost Nieveland's bid for control of the Thaumantic Order for the first time in a century, and yet, he had the opportunity today to participate in a historic bid for world peace that might prevent the bloodshed of thousands, the starvation of millions, a the new century's most scar defining war.

A prayer would be called for among Niomonnach but with respect to the atheistic and alternative faiths present in the hall he asked them for a moment of silence for those who had already fallen and then to regard just a moment more for those who might go on to fall.

"Tarusa may not hold a face or a voice today in the European Forum, but today we will hear you, we will see you and listen. I bid thanks to our hosts from the Eastern March and do wish others to introduce themselves. I am Almskeeper Hely of Nieveland, how are you called?"

Secretary of State Denton Graves was finally glad to be far from the noise of Charleroi. The President was taking serious flak internally within the circles of the Federation's government for leading the charge that led to the Federation joining the now failed Valls Pact. Even within Westernesse there were people waiting in the shadows to come out in criticism like the cowards of Germania. Langley's administration would weather the storm, it always did, but even a meeting with Tarusan jackals and the Nieves was preferable to spending another minute in the halls of Charleroi.

Graves shook the hand of the Almskeeper and of others if it was offered. "I am Secretary of State Denton Graves. I offer the thanks of all of the people of the Federation for our Ostmarkian hosts, to our brothers in arms in Nieveland and even to our adversaries from Tarusa. May our meeting here succeed in sparing the lives of our fighting men and women." Graves said introducing himself.

Seconds turned into minutes, and eventually minutes into an hour. After an hour together the Empire, Federation, and Order agreed to a tentative cease fire. Many of these minutes involved ensuring from both ends that planes were grounded, missiles no longer flying, and that tanks and troops so active now in the field were receiving somehow a moment of disengagement. There were hiccups, particularly in Csengia, that demanded Hely pronounce the order of freeze as Almskeeper of the Revolutionary State rather than an order from Lexkirk, Engwahl.

"I do recommend a working lunch, if ye should all agree, to discuss our terms while the fronts freeze."

With the fronts reporting frozen tensions were high during the working lunch. False reports of troops reengaging threatened to derail the meeting completely. Sometimes voices were raised, the Secretary of State and the Tarusan delegate came close a to shouting match as they got into a discussion on the start of the war and why. The Gothic Sea Pact, a thorn in the side of all in the room was argued over for what seemed like ages. Aides scurried back and forth between the working parties as they talked. After what seemed like forever the Tarusans admitted that the attack on the Gutarike was the final nail in the coffin following constant appearances of aggression by states within Gallo-Germania, the activation of troops, the condemnations, the tacit support of Konstantin and his war with Ivan, with the appearance of the Federation, Hansa and Nievish attacking their remaining ally, falied state that it may be, Tarusa had to act. Now the question was what would be given in return for Tarusa to drop the pact altogether.

In this point, regarding the Gutnish Reich, the Thaumantic Order joined their Tarusan counterparts with great concern. Hely and the Thaumanticans desired neither a Tarusan or Federal puppeteer there so close to home. The damage done by Tarusa's sponsored marauders, however, had indeed inspired Thaumantica to allow Federals, Rheinbunders, and all manners of hitherto enemies past the Nievish Sea and into the Gothic to confront Tarusa. Others had left, ran even, but the Federals from the Western Continent seemed here to stay.

"From your tethers the Gutarike must be cut, this Gothic Sea Pact. This Gutnish State cannot control its holdings in Himyar, and of them Tarusa must hold responsibility there." General Hely of Nieveland offered as both a demand and concession.

"Next, our Order will remove itself from the European Forum." Hely declared, although that forum was likely drafting resolutions to remove them as they had Tarusa weeks before, "And we should only rejoin that cesspit once we are welcomed back together."

Graves nodded his head in agreement "The Federation will promise to keep out of the affairs of Himyar, militarily, as it always has done, but we will not leave the EF, we cannot, even if we wanted to now that we are tied to this security council. We would agree to campaign for Tarusa to be invited back so that our Nievish friends can regain their voice there. In the meantime our sides must find a way to communicate with each other directly, not through our foreign ministries, but directly. I propose direct phone lines from Kremlyov to both Charleroi and Lexkirk."

Their was agreement between the parties as they continued to iron out further details between the three powers. Graves continued after the group's further deliberations, "Now that we have come so far, I must insist that the borders of Lethonia are restored, that the Tarusan forces, who have fought valiantly in what they have seen as a defense of their sovereignty, just our forces have fought valiantly in defense of our allies and our ideals, must return back beyond the borders of Tarusa from whence they came and peace be restored to Germania."

"To assure our Tarusan friends that a build up of forces will not commence further once they have given up their gained ground. The Federation pledges to not increase the forces now stationed in the Hanseaten nations beyond what is already in the region. We ask that the Tarusan Empire limit their troops in the south of Tarusa, near the borders of Lethonia to be equal to that of what the Federation has already stationed in the region. That buildups not occur near the Hanseaten nation of Metsaama no larger than what is already in that region as well."

Almskeeper Hely listened to the Tarusan response, which included a query towards their position in Csengia, to which he replied in the affirmative that Nievish troops would withdraw towards the Ebrian border under the condition that they and the Csengian Patriotic Council were granted egress and not pursued in their return to Thaumantica. A way of emergency contact, a phone colored red, would be installed so forth in Lexkirk or from wherever a Thaumantican Commisar reigned in the Communal Order to ensure lines were maintained between Empire, Federation, and Order.

The meeting extended into the evening hours, by then all were exhausted, but they had accomplished what they had set out to do. Peace would be restored to Germania. The Hansa would be spared a protracted war with tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands dead and it's cities turned into pockmarked graveyards as the titanic armies of the Federation and Tarusa slugged it out. Denton Graves exited the meeting space and patted Eric Hasenkamp on the back with his large baseball mitt like hand. "Well it seems we kicked the can down the road. " Graves turned away from him before he could respond, he shook the hands of the Tarusan minister, giving platitudes expressing hope that peace would reign for many years on the continent, before turning to Almskeeper Hely. "Pray for us all my friend, we can only hope that this lasts at least longer than the war did."

OOC: This post was written in cooperation by Thaumantica and myself.