ARCHIVED: There's no Such Thing as Dragons

An Introduction in OOC
This Role Play covers the events that happened when a brave Eumenorian explorer uncovers the Land of the Dragons. Set in the year 1895, and in Eumenor during its Steampunk years and on the remote Dragon island of Darcania, this Role Play is open to any nation who wishes to join - after applying on the OOC thread, and gaining approval. Please do not post any OOC comments in this thread.
Here is a link to the OOC:
http://forum.thenorthpacific.org/topic/7352422/1/

There's No Such Thing as Dragons

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A solitary airship cut through the clouds as the first light of dawn steals silently across its wooden decks. Its captain, Ernest Fanshaw, lifted his tinted goggles and looked out on the world he was experiencing. As far as his eyes could see, blue waves stretched out like a cloth of velvet lain down by some god. It was truly a thing of beauty. The sweet morning air carried him ever South, South by South-East, towards a far away island where Eumenorian feet had never trodden and Eumenorian eyes had never observed.
The watch on his wrist, a delightful article of elegant clockwork, told him that this brisk spring morning above the clouds had just turned seven. He would land before nightfall. His long coat billowed in the wind as his gondola travelled tirelessly onward, leaving behind a trail of steam in its wake. He was heading for the New Land of Darcania.

 
Background:
After several disasters, including the Massacre of Ascalon and the murder of the God-King Aeolus, clans of dragons worldwide pressured the theocratic Council into disbanding. After a period of anarchy, the current sociocratic government of Wyssiria was founded. Around this time, humans began colonizing the mostly deserted plains of Wyssiria, forming the city of Klarliert, named after the prominent mountains separating the plains from the land of dragons.

In time, the Klarliertisch humans crossed the mountains, exploring the previously inaccessible mainland. The explorers were killed on sight by an unknown dragon of the Kroning clan. After many months of deliberation, during which several clans called for the extermination of the parasites infesting the holy land of Wyssiria, the clans finally consented to granting the plains of Wyssiria to Klarliert. In return, Klarliert would be granted clan status among the government of dragons. Thus was the Protectorate of Klarliert founded.

With the assistance of the Kroning clan, Klarliert began to grow and flourish into a thriving village. It wasn't long, however, before more explorers began finding the isle of Wyssiria....
 
At the top of the highest mountain of the Klarliert region stood Arazi kul Leiter, the government official in charge of relations with the growing human community of Klarliert. Just to her left stood her youngest daughter, Zukul kul Nord. Zukul stared down at the small human settlement of Klarliert, filled with curiosity. She had never met a human before.

"Mother, why do they live on such flat land?" she asked, continuing to stare at the settlement below.

"It is the easiest land to control," Arazi replied. "Humans prefer to control the world around them to suit their needs."

Another dragon approached them, flying from the northwest. "We are all present," he said. He shivered; he, as a Kroning, was not used to the sheer cold of the mountaintop like Arazi and her daughter were.

"Follow me," Arazi said.

She and her daughter, along with about a dozen dragons from the Kroning clan, flew down from the mountains toward the human settlement. By now, most of the humans had come to trust the dragons as allies, and walked out to welcome the dragons as they landed. One of them, the mayor, extricated himself from the crowd and walked up to Arazi and bowed, maintaining a respectful distance. Zukul stared at him, as well as the crowd filled with more living beings than she had ever seen at once, with open curiosity.

"We are glad, as always, to welcome you to our town, Leiter," he said, unable to contain his joy. He knew what today was: Spring had come, and the dragons had arrived to barter their services.

"There is no need for such a formal attitude," Arazi said. "We are your allies, and we are dragons; we do not wish to waste your short lives with trivialities."

"Y-yes, of course, Leiter," the mayor said. He had been through this conversation before, yet he could never dare to disrespect someone with such regal bearing.

Arazi turned toward the Kroning dragons behind her, dismissing the mayor as a hopeless cause, and told them they were free to begin trading with the humans before turning back to the mayor. "I will be waiting where I usually do," she said, walking past the mayor toward the town center with Zukul, still looking all around in wonder, following close behind.
 
Background:
The Eumenorian government, the Council of Directors, has ordered the expansion of Eumenor and the exploration of its future overseas territories. From its seat within the narrow streets of tall houses, and the bustling markets and beautiful parks of Minas Ersul, the Council directs the future of the steam-powered country. They decide the future of their country and their people, as they sit around the long ebony table in top-hats, long coats, exposed-gear watches and metal goggles. They could not be more removed from those miners and labourers who look up at the elite with something akin to awe, but also envy. But when the Council decrees that Eumenor will adopt a philosophy of expansionism and imperialism, the murmurs and complaints of the lower classes are drowned by the jubilance and confidence of the affluent well-off.
 
Fanshaw stood in the forecastle of the Sky-Cutter, Promises. The lookout at the prow had sighted land, and, as he stared out into the distance, telescope in hand, he could just make out the outline of mountains, silhouetted against the pale blue sky. Four marines, in the famous green felt of the Eumenorian army, had emerged from below deck to get a view of the new territory. Their bayonets of their rifles glinted, far above the waves. The envelope swayed happily to itself, the heavy gondola creaking and straining against the guy ropes. The huge steam engines at the rear quietly grumbled to themselves. The albatrosses called to each other across the empty sky, their shrill voices sounding above the methodical clanging of pistons and gears.
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The island was nearer now. It squatted like a giant lumbering across the flat horizon. Fanshaw called his crew out on deck, dressed in striped shorts and blue caps, some dirty from the engine room or still holding the ropes they had been working.

"I present to you, men, the New Land of Darcania. This island, an unexplored wilderness, is at the very fringe of the North Pacific. We are at the edge of the earth, and there is no land beyond us. Let us explore this outpost for Eumenor, for science, and for ourselves."

"Do we prepare to land, Sir?" asked Flynn, the first mate.

"No," replied Fanshaw. "I want to do a flyover first. Let's see what we can find."

The airship sailed on as the midday sun reached the highest point in the open sky.
 
Arazi lay on the cobblestone road, now warm from the midday sun, as her Zukul played around in the cool waters of the crystal glass fountain which marked the center of the town. There had been surprisingly few incidents which required her attention; likely the humans and dragons had grown used to the cultures and customs of each other. She looked over to the fountain; Zukul was currently trying to find out how the fountain worked, diving underwater and finding the source of the many water jets. A Kroning and a human approached Arazi; as they conversed about the issue they were having, Zukul exited the fountain and began flying around the square using the rising air above the cobblestones.

She looked up after a while, considering whether the nearby buildings would hold her weight, as she liked heights. She stopped, however, when she saw a dragon approaching from the northwest; she recognized the Savas, and ran over to her mother to inform her. Her mother quickly shushed the Kroning and the human and prepared to receive the likely upsetting news.

The Savas landed, panting heavily due to his long flight flown at full speed, and slowly regained his breath. Arazi waited patiently; in time, Savas had recovered enough to inform her of why he had flown all the way from the other side of Wyssiria: "There is something approaching from the northwest," he said, still panting. "It appears to be of human origin. Order the dragons to withdraw; we will let them think this island is uninhabited save this small settlement, and see if they attack."

"Should we not attack first?" Zukul asked, walking up next to her mother.

"There is only one of them," Savas answered, "and it appears to be made of wood. I would rather find out why they are here first."

Arazi nodded, and ordered the Kroning to gather all the others back to the mountains. "Wait here, child," she said to Zukul, and flew of to help the Kroning find his clan-mates. Zukul waited with Savas while he recovered; after a half an hour, Arazi returned and led Zukul back to the mountains with the other dragons, while Savas stayed behind, remaining out of sight of the new arrivals.
 
Darcania was beautiful.
Mountains, valleys, lakes, forests of green and open pastures, rolling hills and lush plains slid past below the gondola as its crew leant heavily on the iron railings, each attempting to get the best view of this paradise. There was no sign of life below; the land seemed unspoilt and perfect. Fanshaw was all for landing right then and planting the green and red flag of the Eumenorian Council in the soft earth, until, that is, a road was spotted below the trees. Fanshaw's face fell, but, nonetheless, his curiosity was piqued.

"Take us down, and follow that road," he ordered. "I want to see where it leads. Is it possible that there are men on the island already?"

The road, cobbled and roughly straight, ran away between the trees and out, over a wide plain. As the steam engines clanged back into life, and the ship lurched onwards, its shadow on the ground lengthened until the gondola was mere metres above the grassy ground. The road was well lain; definitely man made. The crew were both confused and disheartened. But, from behind a hill, loomed into view a town. A town of real buildings. The final proof of civilisation.

"Let's land on the other side of the settlement, and disembark to explore on foot. Bring your arms."

And with that, the crew set about attending to their various duties, excitement and anticipation buzzing with the steady movement of the engines.
 
As Arazi and her party remained hidden in various caves throughout the Klarliert mountain range and Savas ducked and weaved between various coverings to remain out of sight, the mayor began working to protect his town. He gathered up a cobbled-together militia armed with a variety of different weapons, most prominently repeating rifles, and walked toward the landing site of the strange airship. While he was unsure if the ragtag militia could hold off an invading force of unknown technological prowess, he knew that Savas had remained behind, and was confident that, if things went wrong, a dragon would be the least the new arrivals would expect. Savas followed close behind them, though he made sure not to be seen by anybody, lest the militia give away his position and thus the element of surprise.

Eventually, the militia reached a respectable size as the mayor, armed with his own Colt revolver, marched from the town center to the edge of the town. He ordered the various members of the militia to hide behind cover or in various buildings; Savas remained further behind and did the same. He, and an assortment of twenty citizens, remained visible, with their guns holstered, as a sign that they would ask questions first and shoot later, if at all.

Arazi, meanwhile, gathered her party of dragons at the base of the mountain range after the airship had passed overhead, though they remained under the cover of the trees, despite the grumblings of various dragons that they, as dragons, shouldn't hide like cowards. They advanced steadily toward the town, ready to either assist Savas in removing the threat of the airship, or to take over for Savas if they should prove peaceful, as she had the most experience with human affairs.
 
The crew, having landed, secured, and disembarked from the airship, cautiously left the open meadow where it was moored and set off down the wide gravel path towards the town they had spotted from the air. The men had changed out of the grimy striped uniform of hard-working sailors and into the gold-buttoned, green and yellow felt jackets of the well-organised Eumenorian army. Their long coat tails covered their dark breeches, and their three pointed hats sported impressive badges. They marched with their repeating, bolt-action, magazine-loaded rifles slung over their left shoulders, but with the safety catches off.
Leaving three men and the First Mate to guard the vessel, Fanshaw had made his way along the long path with the remaining six marines. They intended to explore the settlement they had encountered, and see if there were any men within it. The nerves of the men were high, but they walked with the lightness of excitement. At last, they reached the low gates, and saw, that there was a welcoming party.
About twenty men, lightly armed, looked on. Their faces were rugged but not unfriendly. Their weapons were holstered. This looked a good sign. As Ernest's companions drew up alongside them, they covered their shining bayonets with thick leather sheaths, in a sign of respect and friendship. The mayor, though, in his finery, had is fingers mere inches away from the butt of his colt. A long, uneasy silence followed, before their mayor began to speak.
 
Savas, hidden in a dark, musty building, closely observed the newcomers as they disembarked from their airship. They each wore matching uniforms that Savas couldn't help but admit were impressive. They likely came from a rich, organized nation, with highly disciplined soldiers. If their leader was at all competent, these soldiers would likely prove to be a match for even Savas himself. They each had advanced weaponry; Savas had heard news of stronger and faster rifles that had been developed since Klarliert's founding. Even the most well-armed Klarlierter only had a lever-action rifle. Any scuffle would undoubtedly result in the deaths of many Klarlierter if Savas didn't act.

Similar thoughts passed through the mayor's head when he saw the newcomers approach, though he was certain that the dragons wouldn't abandon him or his citizens at a time like this.

Savas tensed, prepared to pounce on the soldiers if they attacked. He began moving around to their left as they approached the mayor, continuing to remain out of sight. One of the militia, nerves on edge, jumped and yelped slightly when he saw Savas; he silenced himself quickly when he saw the dragon's disapproving glare. Savas slinked behind another building and watched as the mayor addressed the newcomers, silently willing that the newcomers didn't hear the militiaman.

By this time, Arazi and her party had entered the outskirts of the town directly across from the newcomers. She ordered three of the Kronings to follow her quietly as she slithered into the main part of the town to assist Savas; the rest were ordered to stay behind with Zukul, only to move from their position if they heard gunfire. Zukul was ordered to remain behind with the other dragons at all times; if an altercation occurred, she was to flee to the mountains with two of the remaining Kronings.

The mayor stepped forward to speak. "I am Mayor Edric of the town of Klarliert. State your business."
 
The mayor was speaking in English. Ernest knew the language well; he had spoken it many times on his travels and even back in Eumenor itself.
"We are explorers, from far overseas. We come to your beautiful nation in peace, and we extend the hand of our proud nation, the Democratic Republic of Eumenor, in friendship."
The mayor's face remained straight. He was trying to work out if he could trust the newcomers; his militia stirred uncomfortably. In the distance, birds called and water rushed. The rifles' safety-catches remained on. The mayor considered his response, and then spoke.

Meanwhile, miles over the sea, a group of men met around a long, square table, somewhere in a suburb of Eumenor's large capital.
"This has gone too far," testified their leader. He wasn't huge, but his eyes had the look of quiet intelligence. His complexion was mild, but there was fire in his words. Dark hair hung limply over his face. "The Council of Directors has dominated our political landscape for too long. There right-wing views dominate our 'democracy', and the working class has become disillusioned with their leaders. It is time for change."
Another man took his chance to speak.
"But there are no seeds of revolution, no final anger to trigger the uprising we seek," he said. "The people aren't hungry, at least not so hungry that they will riot. The weather is mild, but not hot enough to breed discontent. I believe we need to be the ones to spark off the proceedings, with some... show of power and aggression."
There was a general murmur of agreement around the room.

Back in Darcania, Fanshaw awaited the response of the mayor.
 
The mayor's first instinct was to state that this nation was not his, but that of the dragons. He checked himself before he spoke; if Savas, Arazi, or any other dragon hasn't shown themself, then it was likely that they didn't yet wish to reveal the presence of dragons. He considered his next words carefully, attempting to make no promises or commitments.

"I am only a simple mayor, and so I can't accept your friendship." He increased the volume of his voice slightly so his hidden militia, Savas, and any other dragons could hear him. "We can, however, offer you food and rest while I send a message to the leader of our nation. We have a few taverns to the south of here, if you wish to accept our offer."

The hidden militia, now aware that they were to welcome the newcomers, quickly dispersed from the scene, keeping quiet so the newcomers wouldn't notice them, and returned to their normal lives. Savas, already hidden to the north, moved only slightly, positioning himself so that, if they should head south, he could watch them. Arazi and her party, having heard the mayor, began deflecting their path toward the north, though they made no commitment yet lest the visitors turn down the mayor's offer.

Zukul, meanwhile, after several minutes ago sneaking away from the remaining dragons and entering the town, also heard the mayor. She worried momentarily; was she south of the curious events that were taking place? She couldn't remember the human words for direction; she barely had enough understanding of English to understand the mayor at all. She considered how far the mayor was: with the wind coming from the same direction, she was likely quite a distance from the mayor. She took flight, assured that the terrible eyesight of humans in general would mean they would simply mistake her for a bird, and flew to the east towards where she could see their curious ship. With all the brightly-colored newcomers at the entrance to the town, she assumed the ship was empty. To a small dragonet such as herself, the ship appeared huge, even at this distance. She was almost shaking with excitement: She would be able to see the ship up close, with no protective dragons or confusing humans to stop her. She circled over the ship, still imagining the curiosities she would likely find, not paying much attention to anything around her as she did.
 
So it was settled. Fanshaw would dine with the Mayor himself, and his party would spend the night at one of the inns. He was assured they were most comfortable, and they would give his men a nice break from their cramped hammocks. With Flynn and the three guards remaining at the Promises, and the men of Klarliert being perfectly amiable, Fanshaw felt perfectly safe. As they moved through the town, the beating of wings could be heard overhead. The mayor kept talking, assuring the visitors that it was only a bird. There were a lot of birds in Darcania.
No gunshots had been heard from the settlement and no flare had been spotted in the sky, and so Flynn assumed all had gone well with the first contact. The return of a marine he had sent out confirmed this. So Flynn and one of the men disappeared below deck to make sure everything was in order and carry out a vital repair on the engine room, while the other two ascended to the crow's nest, and kept watch.
By and by, nothing continued to happen, and so the men drew out cards and dealt hands. But before they got to playing, one spotted a dark shape arriving from the South. Training a telescope on this fast moving object, the men were astounded. It was like a reptile, a huge lizard, winged, horned and scaled, and approaching fast. It was a dragon. The men did not know how to respond. They raised the alarm, tolling the bell, and preparing a flare - Flynn and his companion emerged from below decks, searching the sky for the attacker, still a mere speck to the naked eye. The soldiers in the crow's nest attempted to suspend their disbelief; there was no such thing as dragons. Only in myths and the imagination... but still they armed themselves, fetched spare cartridges, brought up cases of huge metal shells, and shoved them into the whaling cannons which they bolted to the handrails.
The creature was nearer now. The sights on the cannons were flicked up, and the powder was in the firing chambers. Each man held the trigger, moving the barrel around the pivot to focus the dragon in the crosshairs.
 
Background:
The Diarchic Republic of Pacific States, which was is three times the size of Republican Pacific Islands at this time, is ruled by two consuls, Leo Gennadius Avienus and Marcus Messalla Severius Iuvenali, who serve 14 year terms with no term limits; one consul is elected every 7 years. Leo Avienus is a very strict man who doesn't like to be questioned, while Marcus Iuvenali is more of a kind leader, who isn't (as) oppressive as Leo Avienus. As the nation is a diarchy, these two leaders have supreme ruling power while in office.

The two consuls supported imperialism and expansionism. They wanted the nation to be known for its might.

Consul Avienus, who was elected in 1883 (12 years before the Eumenorian exploration in Darcania), saw the nation of Eumenor as a valuable asset to expanding their influence and creating trade routes into the south, and in 1885, along with the other consul at that time- Roman Aemilianus Tristen- signed the Eumenorian-Pacific Auxilium Agreement with Eumenor, which guaranteed that when either country asked for it, they should receive aid from the other for any cause including the following: war, unrest in the country, exploration, scientific advancement, etc. The Agreement also established multiple trade routes from Eumenor to the Republic of Pacific States.
 
Towards the south, far away, Arazi spotted a dragon flying to the east. She was angry and confused for a moment; no dragon should be located there, let alone flying when there are unknowns about. She froze when she recognized Zukul. She was heading directly toward the ship! Arazi gave quick orders for the dragons to find Savas and follow him, then immediately ran full speed toward the ship. By now, she was far enough north, and the newcomers far enough south, that they wouldn't see her. She ran past a confused Savas and stopped at the edge of the town, still hidden by the sparse buildings; if she went forward now, any future relations with this new party would be injured by her seeming to attack their ship. When she saw Zukul flying over the ship, however, she ignored that and gave in to her motherly instincts, running through open ground toward the ship. She prayed that she would reach the ship before anything happened to Zukul.

The mayor, with a token portion of his militia, lead the newcomers to the south, talking about the wildlife, specifically birds, in an attempt to cover what he assumed was a dragon flying off to the east. He led them to the town center, showing them his richly decorated mayoral mansion, the crystal glass fountain, and the general prosperity of the town. While the mayor didn't specifically mention it, they could also see the high walls, the elevated position, and the well-defended harbor that indicated that warring with them wouldn't be easy, either. The mayor continued, expressing his hope that, one day, the Eumenorians and the Klarlierter would have prosperous trade relations. The citizens, meanwhile, having returned to their duties, either welcomed the Eumenorians or glared at them; some of the citizens shared the dragons' mistrust of outsiders.

By now, they were almost to the tavern; the mayor hoped that he'd be able to separate from the Eumenorians soon, so he could speak with Arazi. He could only stall the Eumenorians for so long, and he needed to know her plan of how to softly introduce the Eumorians to the dragons. Luckily, he wouldn't have to break the news to them himself.

Zukul stared down to the ship, broken out of her reverie by the sound of bells. It appears that there were humans on the ship, busy doing something she didn't understand, as humans are want to do. Her shoulders slacked as disappointment spread through her; she was hoping to see the ship uninterrupted, but these confusing humans would inevitably distract her. They seemed to be doing something to the large metal tubes on the sides of the ship; she recalled Arazi telling her about how humans preferred to fight using metal tubes which expelled fire and pain. She was startled; Arazi never told her about the sheer size of these "rifles". They were aiming at her, likely seeing her as a threat.

She roared down at them, yet, as she was just a child, her roar sounded more like a loud meow than a proper roar, and continued circling around the ship. She was getting tired now. As a child who only recently learned how to fly, she didn't have the endurance to fly for too long. Usually, she would land on her mother's back and rest while her mother flew for the two of them, but, seeing as her mother wasn't around, she instead began declining down to the ground near the ship, keeping her distance so the cowardly humans wouldn't attack her.
 
"What now?" asked one of the men, as he traced the gun cannon the sky, following the dragon's flight. The winged creature was keeping its distance. It displayed a sort of arrogant (or maybe ignorant) confidence. It didn't look like it knew it was in any danger. Fear was struck into the hearts of the men; they were still struggling to believe what they saw.
"Use the flare. We'll get Fanshaw and the crew back. They may well be in danger themselves."

On a dark Eumenorian night, ten men dressed in the livery of Eumenorian troops gathered outside the door of a tall city-centre apartment block. A brief discussion was held, lit only by a crack of light from a hand-held lamp.
"You two, take the back door. Nobody leaves or enters. We'll take the front."
"Don't be too hard on him - the orders say 'alive'.'
With that, they parted ways, and the lanterns they carried were completely extinguished. Only the soft light in the window betrayed their existence. For a time, all was silent.
Then the cold crack of splintering wood groaned into the night as the sharp bayonets of the soldiers split the thick doorway. Rifle butts slammed into the structure with the weight of heavy men behind them. Pushing through the shards of the shattered frame, they entered the house, ascending a narrow staircase and bursting into the second floor landing. A startled homeowner shrank back in terror against a table in the corner. The soldiers, however, were not interested in innocents.
Once more, they knocked down a thin door and entered the room inside. A man, middle aged and dressed in a long dark coat, was attempting to crawl through his window and down a fire escape. He was roughly seized by the ankles and dragged back into the room, his gun pinned to the floor by the leather boot of one of the men. He tried in vain to free it, ripping the dark maroon carpet. A knife was cut from his belt despite his protests, and he was thrust harshly up against the wall and into the light, where the men could see him. He spoke in a strong Syrixian accent, and screamed loudly while a soldier with an impressive moustache read him his rights. The list was not very long.
Pausing only to seize a pile of letters and a codebook lying open on his desk, and to bayonet and rip out a locked drawer, the party escorted the prisoner out of his accommodation and into a waiting car. Two men remained behind. The search of his property would continue well into the night; this was a matter of national security.
The heavy steam engine clanged into life, and the vehicle rolled slowly away, bearing the troops and their prisoner back to the city centre.

Fanshaw looked up, just as a blight blue light burst into existence in the sky. It hung there, pulsating gently. He was on his feet in seconds and darting behind the startled mayor, his men following him. He uttered a brief apology him, for the mayor seemed a pleasant fellow, and invited him and some of his men to run back to the ship with him to attend to the emergency. Fanshaw had decided the Darcanians could be trusted, but he would reconsider if he deemed the cause of the flare to be a threat.
 
Background:
The Syrixian Empire, which was a bit smaller than the current Republic of Syrixia, was at the time ruled by Emperor Vulnus III, also known as Vulnus the Terrible. Vulnus ruled over his people with an iron fist and instated the personality cult surrounding the Emperor and his Imperial Court that led to the peak of the empire...as well as its decline. He wanted the Syrixian Empire and its Government to be feared by not just the Syrixian citizenry; but also Syrixia's neighbors and fellow island nations in the large North Pacifican Archipelago. He wanted to spread his dominions, and spread his Empire's glory.

Vulnus saw the nation and government of Eumenor as filth, and wanted it to be a Syrixian colony due to the area's beautiful scenery and prosperous economy. He saw the great cities of Minas Ersul and Blue Havens as inferior, and he wanted to establish a new city in Eumenor that would show Eumenor who their bosses were. This city, in Vulnus's eyes, was to be called Minas Morgul. However, Vulnus knew that direct rule would and should not be forced upon a people; if Syrixian rule was asserted very gradually there would be little resistance, or at least the resistance would be so separated it could be put down.

Emperor Vulnus's predecessor and father, Emperor Edmund IX, had commissioned the Syrixian Expeditionary Program, sending Syrixian colonial ships across the archipelago to see what he could find. Vulnus wanted to continue the program, but where to go? He heard Eumenorian aspirations of exploring an island called "Darcania" and decided the best way to begin assertion of Syrixian rule over Eumenor was to have troops visit the island himself. He planted Syrixian spies inside Eumenor's government headquarters in Minas Ersul, and got the information he desired from his spies...
Miles away, in Syrixia...

A courier entered the Throne Room of the Syrixian Imperial Palace in Balamb. He was dressed in the usual robes, a red page's outfit and a large leather satchel carrying letters. This was no normal courier, though; this was Ahalmat, the Emperor's personal courier. Ahalmat stepped up to the Emperor and, in formal fashion, kneeled and kissed his feet. "Your Magnificence," Ahalmat uttered timidly while standing up, "We have found the location of this "Darcania" place. Your goal of "Minas Morgul" may be closer to us after all." The Emperor smiled, then stood up from his diamond throne. "Tell me the location of this place, Ahalmat." he said, in a commanding, thunderous voice. "Your Magnificence," replied Ahalmat, "it is in the southeast of the North Pacific. If we sail in between the Great Straits between the North Pacific and the Pacific, we should reach Darcania within four days." The Emperor approved and beckoned Ahalmat to ready the colonial ships. Each ship would be staffed with 90 Imperial Sailors and 20 Imperial Land Troops. There were to be 5 ships, for a total of 100 men on the shores of Darcania, and 450 surrounding the area where Klarliert was believed to be located. The Emperor laughed to himself.

"It doesn't matter." he thought. Within a few years, Eumenor would be on its knees regardless. Darcania was just the beginning...
 
Very far away, on the other side of The North Pacific, a dinner was being hosted by the two Consuls at their palace, the Palacium Consul. Attending the dinner were 5 leaders of foreign nations and some of their close friends. Though, one leader was missing from this dinner... A messenger entered the room and discretely handed a letter to Consul Marcus, while Consul Leo was conversing with the guests. After having read the letter, Consul Marcus stood up and said, "Excuse me, I must attend to something." Marcus left the room and started questioning the man who brought him the letter, "What do you mean his ship never arrived!? Have you heard from him!?" The man, scared, timidly responded,"All I know, Sir, is that his ship never arrived; and that really is all I know." Marcus replied, "Fine. Inform Leo that I will return to dinner in thirty minutes." Marcus abruptly left the room and went down to the front gate of the palace where a carriage was waiting, "To the Palatium Imperii," Marcus instructs the driver. "Yes, Sir." It was rather dark that night, and as they rode for five minutes to the capitol building, Marcus could see the huge Palatium Imperii with it's marvelous lights, even before the carriage began to move away from the Palacium Consul.

Arriving, Marcus tells the driver to wait for him, and he walks inside and heads up the 3 story stairs of the magnificently constructed building to the office of the Foreign Affairs Minister. The Minister, Josef Antoni, not expecting Marcus's arrival, stands abruptly and, surprised, says, "Your Lordship, I was not expecting you." Marcus motions for him to be seated and asks, "Where is the Chairman of the Council of Directors? You did send the letter informing him of this dinner?" Josef, confused, replies, "I don't know what...wait," he stops what he's doing and shuffles through one of his drawers. "Here, Sir." He hands a letter from the Spokesman to Marcus. Marcus opens the letter and reads it,

"Greetings Consuls Marcus and Leo, I am unable to attend your dinner, I am busy with the expeditions into Darcania. I assume your Foreign Affairs Minister has informed you of this expedition? I will be sending a representative to the Palatium Imperii to discuss the matter and request for your assistance with these expeditions.

Regards,
Council of Directors
Chairman"

Marcus turns to Josef, "You've not been telling me things; I'll deal with you later, I have a dinner to attend." He leaves and Minister Josef shrinks back into his chair and thinks, "Oh no. I forgot to tell the Consuls. I am in trouble."

Marcus, returning to the driver, instructs him to take him back to the Palacium Consul. "Expeditions to Darcania? What's Darcania...?"
 
Background:
The United States of Guslantis is a large nation that was formally owned by two separate nations of noble status. Its current leader is Chancellor Fredrick Darwin, who is 67 years old. His advisors are called Councillors, and are equivalent to the today Ministers. One, Councillor Richard Hilley of the Ministry of Information is the ancestor of King Hilley. We join the chancellor in his office, looking at a large map on his desk.
It was a dark day in Pigletville as the grey-haired chancellor spread a large dusty map onto his desk. He sat down in his oak chair, and examined the map with pride. Darwin was one of the youngest chancellors ever elected in Guslantis' history, so he had seen a lot in his time as chancellor. He scratched his head and squinted his eyes as he searched for Pigletville on the regional map. "Sir, are you busy?" asked a voice behind him as Councillor Hilley entered the room. The chancellor looked up and squinted even further. "What do you want, Mr. Hilley? I'm quite busy with cartography matters," the chancellor replied. "I will only be a moment, sir, I promise," the councillor replied, approaching the old man. Darwin coughed, and stood up. "I need some fresh Guslant air, Richard, do you mind if we take to my balcony?" the chancellor asked, gesturing towards the balcony. "No, not at all, after you," replied Hilley, following the chancellor outside.

Darwin's red robe brushed over the tiles of the balcony as the two left his office and stepped out into the open space of the shining capital city. "I always thought of Pigletville as a jewel, always thought she would become a dominating city in the world," said the chancellor. "She is, sir, she is a jewel," said Hilley, reassuring the chancellor of his statement. "There are black markets everywhere, Richard. Thieves, robbers, and scoundrels...they are all over the place," remarked Darwin. "Nonsense sir, I haven't seen a criminal in over four years," said Hilley with a smile.

A woman suddenly screamed, and a man with only explorer pants and boots ran through the streets, toward the building the two were in. He wielded a dagger, and cut down the guards to the building. He then hoisted himself onto the building, and scaled up to the balcony. When he reached the top, Hilley and Darwin could only look in shock. "Listen, this is going to be hard to explain...but I'm gonna need supplies for an expedition...," the man said with a guilty smile. "Um...who are you?" asked Hilley, actually curious. "The name is Captain Miles Akerman of the Pigletville Pearl, my crew and I were going on an expedition to Darcania...," began the man, before Darwin interrupted. "You stole from my people for an expedition?! Son, that is not acceptable. Richard, hoist that man from my expensive balcony and let us decide the punishment in my office," yelled Darwin. Hilley grabbed Akerman and pulled him up, grabbing his hands to prevent him from escaping. "And what in the blazing hell is Darcania?" yelled Darwin as the three walked inside.
 
Arazi, Savas, the mayor, and all the dragons and humans stopped and stared as a bright blue light materialized to the east. Most were nescient to what the flare was and why it appeared, but Arazi knew what it meant: The humans on the ship had summoned their companions back to the ship, likely to deal with what they perceived as a threat. Arazi grew angry and she resumed her race to the ship; how dare those ignorant, cowardly humans see Zukul as a threat? She was only a child, and she wouldn't hurt a fly. Arazi was a proud mother: she had taught her baby on the value of all life, not just that of the dragons, when she couldn't even fly yet. She broke out of her reverie when she realized that, if she were to simply charge in, she might also be seen as a threat. At this, she wasn't angry: She would gladly hurt any human that dared to harm her Zukul. They would be right to fear her. She continued racing toward the ship; by now, she was within several dozen feet. She wasn't worried about being caught, as the humans were still tracing Zukul with their cannons. Besides, if they did see her, it would be too late for them to run away.

Zukul hovered in place, her exhaustion forgotten, as she stared at the pretty light the humans created. She hadn't seen such colorful lights since she was but a freshly-hatched dragonet, when her mother showed her the Aurora. She didn't know humans would be capable of creating such lights. Disappointment went through her heart when her exhaustion reminder her of its existence; she would have to turn away from the lights to land. Her disappointment disappeared, however, when she saw her mother. Perhaps she would let Zukul ride on her back while Zukul stared at the pretty lights, like when they were younger. She gave a happy greeting roar toward her mother and began to fly toward her, but stopped. Her mother would likely be angry at her for exploring without her; she shrank back and began landing on the other side of the ship, near a beach, still nescient to the danger she was in.

The mayor, meanwhile, feared the worst when he saw the flare. He thought Savas knew what he was doing, but someone must have seen a dragon and panicked. He almost fell over when Fanshaw pushed him aside; he caught himself on a chair and followed him as fast as he could. He was in no way out of shape, but he was no marine, and couldn't quite keep up with the captain. Thoughts flew through his head as he tried his best to come up with some way to reassure Fanshaw and his group, but he couldn't come up with a way to pass off a dragon sighting as a minor issue. He prayed that Arazi would be there. She, a calm, level-headed dragon, would know exactly what to do.

Savas, meanwhile, estimated that the flare was likely due to Zukul and Arazi; without any assistance, Zukul would likely die. He formulated a plan, telling the Kronings to stay behind unless they heard gunshots, at which point they were to fly top-speed to the ship and provide any assistance they could. Savas, meanwhile, ran toward the ship; as a male, he couldn't run quite as fast as Arazi, but he hoped to reach the ship before any harm came to either of the dragons. He considered what to do when he got there; if Arazi calmed them down, he would not need to do anything, but if they weren't calmed down... he would likely have to fight them by himself for a few minutes, since Arazi would be too focused on protecting Zukul. With the ship, and thus heavy weaponry, present, he feared the worst.
 
The dragon had flown over the envelope, and briefly out of sight of the men. It re-emerged on the East facing side, lower now, its wings beating more softly now. Its head hung in the air limply, as if tired. Flynn observed it through his telescope.

Clearly an adolescent, in its behaviour and size, it seemed content to watch the airship out of one beady eye. It stood almost the height of a man tall, and was covered in white scales and plates from head to toe. Stubby horns protruded from its head like those of a young deer, and a crest ran from her head to tail across its back. Its wingspan was huge, and as it flexed its pale white wings, its power, even as a child, was clear to see.

The wail of a whistle startled Flynn, and he turned to see another dragon approaching from the West. It was much larger, and much angrier. The light of the flare had died in the sky, and dusk was taking its hold. But as the wide-winged dragon approached, so did the torches of Fanshaw's party, who advanced over the hill. Arazi had spotted them, and the Mayor's party running along in tow.

Meanwhile, back in Eumenor, the Council of Directors were meeting in a luxurious palace in the centre of Minas Ersul. While they lived amongst their people, and witnessed their day-to-day lives, they could not have been more removed from their struggles.
Around a long mahogany table the six members sat, in stiff coats, top hats, and well-kept moustaches. All but one of the seven heigh backed chairs were filled. Slowly, and with great care, the man at the head of the table began to speak.
"A spy, hailing from Syrixia, has been discovered." There all faces in the room remained blank. "He was very close to government - in fact, he used to occupy - that seat." There were murmurs of surprise.
"We must begin a new a new policy of foreign relations with Syrixia. This sort of scandal occurs monthly now. They are gunning for a fight, so let us take it to them."
"Do we really want to enter into a full scale war with Syrixia"?
"Why not? We have the power."
"He is correct. Our navy is vastly superior; our air power is also greater then that of the Empire."
"But their army is of greater size; they have almost double our forces, and what they lack in equipment they make up for in determination. The Syrixian Empire as geared for war. We are not imperialists. Look at our military spending, in comparison to theirs."
"I concur. Eumenor is a place of prosperity and education; Syrixia only knows expansion."
"Then we must ramp up our military spending; to hell with the people. If their welfare budget this year stops them from falling into Syrixian hands, it will be money well spent."
"What do you suppose we do with it?"
"Subsidise Project Flyby, and use the rest to fund conscription. This is the way forward for our country."
"To vote?"
"Yes. Those in favour? - 4. Those against? - 1. Abstentions? - 1. The motion carries. Write up the legislature and inform the people."

"Have you seen this document?" asked a man dressed entirely in black. "It allows the Directors to divert the people's welfare to the military. What are your thoughts, Colonel?"
A voice from below a black hood spoke. "This has gone far enough. But our plan is almost ready for implementation."

Fanshaw and his crew stormed up the boarding ramp and took up positions on the gunwales, crow's-nest, and poop deck. Their rifles traced across the sky. The Mayor was franticly trying to explain to Fanshaw that the dragons were friendly - but the shock of seeing creature from myth in the flesh had taken its toll on him. All the men were in a state of confusion.
But their professionalism held them together; the crew of twelve were working as a tight unit. More shells had been brought up from below, and more whaling cannons had been fixed to the rails. A pair of men were lugging the heavy metal barrel up a ladder to arm the crow's-nest. The deck had been cleared for action, but still, Fanshaw was reluctant to give the command to fire.
The bigger dragon was upon them now; the smaller one had landed and was watching them intently. The Mayor was still in a high state of agitation, and the marines were wary and mistrustful of the militia, most of which were standing around the bottom of the airship, the boarding ramp having been retracted. The situation was tense, and could go any way.
 
Emperor Vulnus III sat in his throne, put his hand on his head, and sighed. "You've got to be kidding me. The Eumenorians found Xei'ryoghu?" he said to Sk'eyin Tuyhyo, his Minister of Defense.

"Yes, it appears so." said Minister Tuyhyo. "But it matters not, your Magnificence. We have the information we need. We're sending a fleet to Darcania that's big enough and has enough power to shoot every Eumenorian airship outta the sky if we aim well enough. We have superiority over Eumenor on land and at sea; if we end up in a battle with them they're likely going to send such airships to destroy us; as we have nothing of the sort. The only problem would be if they sent in too many airships for us to handle, but if we have top cannoneers on those ships, which we do, we'll be able to make sure there are never too many."

"Still, regardless of each nation's superiorities over the other in whatever category, Eumenor is a threat." the Emperor replied.

"Agreed, your Magnificence." said Tuyhyo. "Let's just hope we can find something on our trip to help us. Perhaps we could find native peoples, et cetera..."

Meanwhile, at the Balamb Grand Marina...

"AY! HOIST THE SAILS!" yelled Captain Ruben Kh'ubal, leader of the expedition. The Syrixian ships were just setting off for Darcania. The wind was very well, so they predicted they would get there within three days. Possibly more, no less...
 
Darwin scolded at Akerman as the prisoner was dragged into Darwin's office. When they arrived, Hilley handed Akerman over to the guards, who locked him in handcuffs. "You are being preposterous! A nation with dragons?! HA! How many drinks have you been having young man?" the angry Darwin yelled. "Who cares how drunk he is, good sir, as Lord Chamberlain, I must inform you that he has committed six crimes against our nation, and must be executed immediately," interrupted Hilley. The guards aimed their spears at Akerman, about to execute him in front of the men. "Wait! Burns! She knows about this nation!" interrupted Akerman.

"Burns? Who is that?" Darwin asked, leaning over to consult Hilley. "Wanda Burns, sir...," reminding him. "Ohhhhh...who is that?" asked Darwin again. "Wanda Burns, of Carrotopolis, Chief Science Officer of the Court," continued Hilley. Darwin still looked blankly at Hilley, still confused on who he was referring to. "Freaky science lady," tried Hilley a third time, and it finally clicked in Darwin's head. "Fine, we will see her at once, guards, get the royal carriage, I want us to be in Carrotopolis as soon as possible," ordered Darwin as he exited. "I don't trust you," remarked Hilley as he angrily stared at Akerman. "Get him in the carriage," he order to the royal guards as they began poking at Akerman with their spears, creating small cuts that drew blood from the prisoner.
 
Arazi paused as she saw the humans on the ship prepare for battle. She watched the cannons as they were affixed to the ship's railings; it would seem that, unlike the ships of the Klarlierter, these ones could swivel. She kept her distance as she slowly meandered around the north of the ship, keeping herself crouched down so she could take off flying or running if necessary. She stared at the humans as they traced her path with their weapons, a low growl continuously issuing from her throat. She would glance over to Zukul intermittently as she did so, making sure the humans kept their cannons on her instead of her baby. She quietly hissed over at Zukul, non-verbally commanding her to return to Arazi.

As the two steadily reunited, Arazi stared up at the humans; they were certainly shocked at the presence of herself and Zukul, but they maintained their organization and discipline quite well. She considered what to do as she reached Zukul.

She immediately laid herself down in front of Zukul, holding her baby close while shielding her from anything the humans might do. She looked over Zukul: thank the gods, there were no injuries; Zukul was simply exhausted. She hugged Zukul and even began nuzzling her and licking her nose in relief before turning back to the ship, staring at them with caution and anger. She had made her decision.

"Edric," she began. He ran to the railings, himself nearly broken from all the stress. "Is the leader of these outsiders there with you?" she asked. He pointed out Fanshaw, who was even now standing next to him.

"You are to leave," she began, speaking with a regal tone. "You are to leave and never return to this land. Should you return, we dragons will burn your ship and your crew until there is naught but ash." By now, Savas had reached Arazi, and stood next to her for protection. The many, many dragons back in Klarliert took off flying, circling widely around the ship as a show of force, to show the outsiders that the nation of Darcania was not to be trifled with. The militia, inspired by the dragons, backed away from the ship and, in a rare moment of discipline, lined up, rifles held to the side, and simply stood at attention, joining the dragons in a non-threatening show of force.

"Leave now," Savas added, speaking in a low, commanding tone, "or you will never return to your homeland."
 
Ranks upon ranks of men marched down Ersulia Way on their parade to Speakers' Square. These new soldiers, immaculately dressed and armed, and marching in almost perfect time (an impressive feat considering their intensive but regrettably short training and sheer numbers) were truly a sight to behold. Their polished bayonets reflected the sunlight and deep blue sky above Minas Ersul's bustling city centre.
"The New Ideal Army," explained a commentator, "comprises thousands upon thousands of volunteers, the children of our proud nation, ready to defend our noble cause against the onslaught of the masses."
Crowds lined the streets and Eumenorian flags fluttered from tall buildings along the route. Eumenor had been swept up in a tide of patriotism.
"Volunteers!" spat a man, somewhat removed from the crowd, conversing with a small group. The plot against the Directors was nearing its final stage. Already the plans were in place.
At last, the climax of the military parade was arriving. A rumble from the North like the angry roll of thunder heralded the arrival of Eumenor's new superweapon. The Leviathan Class airship, named Elision, glided into view from behind the high Ersulia Way buildings. The impressive new flagship of the Eumenorian airforce measured easily 250 meters long, but this one was of the new breed.
The main thing that set it apart from the other ships of the old Eumenorian force was its complete lack of an envelope.
Instead the helium was contained within the body of the ship, and the gondola had completely disappeared. Built around the envelope in a new integrated design, complete with bridge, multiple decks, and many huge naval guns, it looked like a proud battleship had been set in motion in the air.
The Elision, as it was known, took up its position in the sky over the ironically named People's Palace, under which the Directors had assembled in preparation for their address to the masses. However, this address would not be allowed to happen.
A fanfare of horns played out from the Elision, and the soldiers in the parade stopped. They swivelled on their feet so that they were all facing towards the Directors in almost perfect unison. And then, unit by unit, they broke rank and marched towards the platform, swamping it with men. Loyalist units and their sergeants were swept off away from the square by their comrades.
The tops of the buildings lining Ersulia way were now swarmed by crowds, appearing as if from nowhere, comprising protestors, members of the public, snipers and men brandishing rocket launchers. The soldiers in the street were following orders from their Colonels now, and the shouting of the Chief of Staff from the surrounded platform was drowned by the cheering of the no-longer oppressed masses.
And just like that, the Revolution was over. And the new Eumenorian government had installed itself in Minas Ersul. And like an irresistible tide, Eumenorians across the nation rose off and through of the yokes of their oppressors. And it was to this joy that Fanshaw returned, his downheartedness at his failure dispelled at the sweet smell of the winds of change. For that was what was happening in Eumenor. The war with Syrixia would be the People's War. And Eumenor would be the country of its people.
So as Fanshaw reported the events to the new government, and the people rejoiced in the streets and the remnants of the old reigeme were promptly burned, the first votes in recent Eumenorian history began to take place, and the preparations for the first war in living memory began.
 
Ahalmat once again arrived in the Imperial Throne Room. "There are rumors that Fanshaw, a Eumenorian explorer, has returned from Darcania." said Ahalmat to the Emperor. Vulnus smiled, knowing by his courier's body language the best part was yet to come. "Anything else?" he said. "Yes," Ahalmat replied. "Rumors say that Fanshaw found beasts akin to mythical dragons living in Darcania." The Emperor, of course, took this very positively. His dream city, Minas Morgul, was coming into shape, and now there was the prospect that there could be dragons, mythical winged beasts, in Darcania too. Soon these rumored draconic beasts would be tamed and under Syrixian control and Eumenor would be next on the list. The Eumenorians had a formidable army, one that could easily stand up to (and with a little perseverance possibly defeat) the Syrixian legions. However they were outnumbered and outgunned in almost all aspects by the Syrixian army. The only thing Eumenor had up on them was air power. Naturally, the Emperor wanted to change this.

All this was still a rumor, but he knew it was worth trying. If the dragons were truly there, Syrixia would be able to use them as the perfect weapons of war if tamed properly. If they weren't, at least Syrixia had a new colony. "We're going to have to risk it; it's either a 'win' situation or a 'slightly-less-win' situation." the Emperor said. "By Imperial Order, I hereby decree that the Army is to produce and manufacture airships. More factories are to be built and more soldiers sent to Darcania, approximately two to three more teams of the size of the first. We no longer have our spy, but we have what we need." On that, Ahalmat bowed to the Emperor and kissed his feet before proceeding to leave and have the Emperor's orders carried out. It was then that the Emperor summoned his generals and Minister Tuyhyo and went to the back conference room in the deepest halls of the Palace. Once settled in with his generals in the conference room he began to speak. "Now then," he said, "I believe you all know why we're here. We need to formulate a strategy to take out Eumenor in case the dragons of Darcania do not cooperate with our methods of coersion. Any ideas?" Then, one general, General Sumi Nur'Khouf, stood up to propose an idea. "I think what we should do, your Magnificence, is a diversion. We lure the Eumenorians into a trap and then we conduct a mass march into Minas Ersul."

General Nur'Khouf then continued, "There is a large island in Southern Eumenor that is currently owned by the country; perhaps we can lead them to a port there and block it both navally from the port side and with soldiers on the other side of the town. We'd slowly encircle the Eumenorians and massacre them, and then we would be dealing with a reduced Eumenorian military in Minas Ersul. Once THAT city is under control, we can conquer Blue Havens, destroying as we go. We will burn both cities to the ground and loot their more relevant materials for the construction of Minas Morgul." he said. "This sounds excellent. What do the rest of you think?" said the Emperor. No response came from any of the other Generals, and so the deal was done. General Nur'Khouf was put in control of the project.

Meanwhile, an ocean away, Syrixian ships were approaching Klarliert...
 
The royal carriage arrived promptly at Carrotopolis, and upon arrival, Hilley asked the prisoner the location of Wanda Burns. "Where did you find her?" he asked, hoping for a quick and easy answer. "By the town's clock tower," Akerman replied firmly. As the horses stopped at their destination, the trio stepped out. "I don't see anything," said Darwin, approaching the clock tower. He stepped back in fear as he saw a snake-like shadow work its way up the clock tower. "What in the world?" asked Hilley, curiously. They suddenly saw out of the corner of their eyes something that resembled a dragon slithering behind them. The trio feared for their lives and worked their way into the clock tower. "Lore...Fiction...Fantasy...Action...," said a scary voice through the clock tower as it began to close behind them. "Only fiction could define these beasts, but now, what was fantasy is now fact!" continued the voice as fire began to ignite the clock tower. The lights turned on as Darwin felt something on his shoulder. "SHARKS!!!!" he screamed, jumping into Hilley's arms in fear. The trio turned around to see a wacky-looking woman with her orange hair all-crazy, dressed in a labcoat, and holding a dragon sock-puppet. "RAWR!" she exclaimed, while moving the sock-puppet. "I see why I don't come to Carrotopolis a lot," Darwin said to himself as he got out of Hilley's arms. "Why HELLO Ake-ar-men! How are you? You look a little stuck today!" she commented to Akerman in handcuffs. She then let out a chuckle, which sounded like that of a hyena mixed with a dolphin.

The trio looked at Burns with terror, wondering if she was laughing, or taking her last breath. "Burns, we need you to tell us about Darcania," said Hilley, grabbing Burns to calm her down. "Ooh! Me life work! Extra-OR-dinary work indeed!" she exclaimed, breaking Hilley's grasp and began to climb the tower. "May 8th, journalist Vince Harper noted in his final diary entry aboard the Freasce that 'I never saw a beast that big, with scales so huge and so terrifying', that ship hit a rock and was capsized. Coordinates noted on the map. July 6th, captain Barrie White noted in his captain's log, 'due East my crew seen a big whale hump, however, this one had scales!', ship was lost at sea, and White's body was recovered, cause of death, suffocation. October 23rd, Duchess Carrie Melton was taking a royal cruise when her ship disappeared off the face of the map, no body recovered, no death noted. Last known location noted on the map. However, when we put these all together, we can see that their epicenter is in a place named Darcania, at least, that is what others with my theory call it, and that there is in fact dragons there," she said, hoping they would believe her. "Prove it," Hilley said, making Burns smile.
 
"Hello, Savas," Zephyr greeted, speaking in his standard antiquated, flat fashion.

In response, Savas simply stared; he had heard of Zephyr as a child, but he simply assumed this Zephyr was simply a character in a story designed to scare the little dragonets, not a real dragon. When Arazi told him of a strange green dragon wandering around Klarliert asking questions, he simply assumed the dragon was the new representative from the Verdant region. Nevertheless, at Arazi's suggestion, he had brought a few other dragons with him to force the dragon off the island if necessary. He looked over at the rudimentary docks, only to see that all the boats were out at sea. He looked back at his contingent only to see his own fear reflected back at him.

"Hello, Zephyr," Savas replied, failing to hide his own fear. He took a deep breath and forced the next questions out. "Why are you here? And how did you get here?"

"I flew," Zephyr replied simply. "I wanted to see how my little project was." He looked at the settlement around them as he spoke.

Savas stared at Zephyr again, once again overcome with disquiet. What exactly was Zephyr referring to? He'd have to make sure to speak with Arazi and the Elder about this, but for now he ignored it. He took another deep breath. "You've seen enough," he said. "As an exile, you aren't allowed here. We will arrange for a boat to take you back to the mainland."

"You will not have the boats to spare," Zephyr said, staring off to the west. "Do you not know? There are ships approaching." He looked back at Savas, who was only getting more and more fearful as time passed. "Do not worry yourself; I will behave," he finished before walking away.

Savas looked back at the dragons with him, ordering them to watch Zephyr. They stared back in shock, pleading him not to leave them alone with that monster, before he silenced them and repeated his order. He thought carefully to himself as they ran off after Zephyr; what did he mean by all that? His "little project"? Ships approaching? He flew to Mayor Edric as quickly as possible, ordering him to scramble the navy as quickly as possible while Savas gathered the dragons and informed the Elder.

Meanwhile, miles to the west of Savas, the western patrol spotted ships heading their way. The leader of the patrol, referred to as Rear Admiral Moriah Clay despite the lack of formal military structure, signaled the other ships, who woke the dragons that had previously agreed to assist the patrol. The three frigates, two carrying a dragon each, diverted toward the new threat.

The dragons took off flying and remained behind and out of sight while the three ships approached the newcomers, flying the unfamiliar Klarliertisch colors. Moriah ensured her two flare guns were as prepared before signaling the five ships to stop. They looked ready for a fight, but she hoped that they were simply looking for a fight elsewhere; surely these ships would be open to a peaceful talk with an uninvolved city-state.
 
Captain khu'Bhaal chuckled to himself as the Klarlierters and their ships revealed themselves. These were clearly primitive natives, coming to meet their conquerors. They had three small ships, and the Empire had five of their best frigates. The Syrixian ships made the Klarliertisch ships look like little rafts. The Syrixian ships were colossal, made from the finest wood and laid in the Imperial colors of black and red, with golden yellow decorations everywhere. They had huge lines of cannons, and they loomed over the Klarliertisch ships, utterly putting them to shame. They were a force to be reckoned with, as foreboding as they come.

As the Syrixian fleet and the three Klarliertisch ships drew closer, murmurs started to circle around the fleet.

"We must be close to this Darcania place..."

"Where are the dragons? I'm getting rather impatient..."

"I'm a bit nervous...it's quite foggy..."

"Don't be! These are hilariously small ships."

"Agreed. I just wanna shoot 'em to bits!"

"Silence!" said the Captain as he stepped up to the front of the ship and began to speak to the Klarlierters. "You down there! Maksul and greetings! I am Captain Ruben khu'Bhaal, Syrixian Imperial Fleet! And you are?"
 
OOC Note: A copy of my map may be helpful in deciphering this post.
http://i.imgur.com/C7B3rsD.png

Darcania had been all but forgotten.
Everybody in Eumenor knew Syrixia and its emperor was looking for a fight, and so Eumenor was going to give them one. The war seemed an exciting prospect, an escape from the drags of day-to-day life, and every man and boy old enough to bear arms was itching to try his hand against the Syrixian masses.
Fanshaw’s report had been forced to the back of the minds of the new Assembly; boosts to welfare, and healthcare were forced through government, new ministers were appointed nation-wide, and the voices of everyday men and women began to be heard on the national stage.
The first Spokesman of Eumenor, Sebastian Hasler, sat at a neat desk in a smart room, reading the day’s reports. Four men had drowned earlier that day, in the first test of the submersible. The weapon hadn’t been airtight, and had been promptly scrapped. Hasler was more sad at the loss of the men than the failure of the project; he was certain Syrixia had no such technology, and he was right. It was the overwhelming number of Syrixian forces and the ferocious – almost bordering on madness – with which they fought.
On a lighter note, two competing designs had been submitted to him by auto companies for the armoured cars he had ordered. Long vehicles, heavily plated, resting on thick wheels and capable of carrying several men, they would be keystones of Eumenor’s defence. On inspection of the designs, he saw the technology still had a long way to go – one boasted that at least twenty vehicles would be available by the end of the year. But the Assembly was reluctant to divert more funds away from the people to fund the war effort. Unlike the Directors, Hasler’s parliament recognised the needs of the population.
Nevertheless, they had come to realise the importance of the war, and that, no-matter what they tried, diplomacy was not an option. Vulnus’ motives were still un-known, but all knew he was searching for some sort of trigger for an offensive he had been long planning.
A knock on the door revealed the three Chiefs of Staff, who had arrived to discuss Eumenor’s doctrine and war plans. A map was laid out on the desk, and Eumenor’s countryside and coasts were spread out before them. Hasler peered at it through narrowed eyes, one hand resting on his chin, the other tracing the line of the Egibya coast.

“As I see it,” began the older man, greying but still strong, “our main threats by sea are of Syrixian invasion up Box Bay and into Ersulia through that way, or through the Nordsee, in order to raid the Havens and the ports on Farview Bay. We cannot allow this area to fall – it is vital for imports to arrive to keep our war effort going. Therefore a large mass of Eumenorian warships should be stationed off the coast near Fairfall, with naval blockades of Haven Bay and Farview Bay in place to protect the shipping there.”

The Eumenorian navy of 40 or so battleships and dreadnaughts, close to 100 cruisers, and myriad assorted destroyers and frigates, would be spread principally between the two strategic locations in the Nordsee, and the mouth of Box Bay. Blockades in both areas of powerful battleships would ensure that the Syrixians would not dare to approach Eumenor’s heartlands by sea. The Eumenorian navy was augmented by three super-weapons: the Floating Fortresses, almost twice the size of a standard Eumenorian dreadnought. One would be anchored by the Blue Havens, another outside the mouth of the Great Canal on the Ersul side, and the last in the centre of the channel of Box Bay roughly opposite Snowmaple. This would hopefully make Eumenor impregnable from the water. This strategy did not, however, leave forces enough to patrol the coastlines and still have ships left over to challenge Syrixia overseas – but that was a sacrifice that had to be made. As long as Eumenorian fleets were never hugely out-numbered, they could prevail.
The Ethias Strait was already being completely closed with large amounts of sea mines. It would be suicide for any ship to attempt to cross into Eumenor from that angle. Hasler was now satisfied with Eumenor’s defence by sea, and so the conversation shifted to the air.

“Intelligence has emerged,” another man began, “that Syrixia is building itself an airforce. This is no cause for concern: our New-Breed airship forces are more than a match for Syrixian technology. The integrated ships like the Elision are to be formed into two mobile armadas, the larger, including the Elision, flying abroad. This will constitute the main body of Eumenor’s attack fleet. We don’t believe Syrixia has an answer to this technology, the re-enforced hulls being able to withstand sustained Syrixian naval fire at the altitude at which they cruise. In fact, Syrixian naval fleets will be highly vulnerable to them, as will Syrixian cities. The danger comes when they have A-A emplacements or naval fleets of significant size to challenge our fleets. However, Eumenor will maintain air superiority abroad. At home, the smaller armada will be augmented by the remaining Old-Breed ships that haven’t been scrapped yet, and will be stationed around the country in small numbers, to provide air support in land battles, ward off Syrixian airforce raiders, and harry incoming navies. A-A emplacements have been installed in all our major cities. Eumenor is prepared for attack from the air.”

But it was from the land that Eumenor really was in danger. The third man began to speak.
“The Eastern part of Escor is not defensible. In the event of Syrixians landing in that area, we will pull back to the Eastern branch of the River Escor and occupy the west bank. Our infantry will hold the space between its source and Minas Escor, the beginning of the naval blockade. Syrixian advance through Escor past that point will be made impossible by the river, hills and dense forest – only a small number of troops are needed to secure that area. Ethias and Erir are bordered by the Northwall of Eumenor – an ordered advance by an army through those hills will not be possible. The light highland infantry will be able to prevent a breakthrough from the north.The Ethias coast is also heavily mountainous – troops will establish strongpoints in the cities and along the railway, and preparations are in place to close off the beaches. Again, assault there is heavily impractical.
Box Island is the weak point in our defences. There are six beaches there suitable to land on, near Southpoint, Breakwater and Straitview. If these beaches are taken, Syrixia can advance across the island towards Minas Boxalia and behind the main blockade. Therefore it is on the plains between the hilly areas near Straitview and Snowmaple that the bulk of our land forces must be concentrated. If Box Island is lost, they could cross the channel near Clearcoast and advance through Erir. A final naval blockade of the Bay of Ersul would prevent assault by sea, and troops stationed in Minas Ersul, along the Belmere Lakes, in the Havens, and along the Great Canal, will act as a last line of defence. Even if Box Island falls, it will be incredibly difficult for Syrixia to make any headway into Eumenor as long as the blockade holds.”

At that moment, the four heads turned to the doorway as they heard the sounds of a commotion in the corridor. Hasler could swear that he'd distinctly heard the word 'dragon'.
 
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