(OOC this is a game wide N0n-Aggression Pact not limited to guilds but also to unguilded due to the wipe of guilds. Its a courtousy to the community that we as guild leaders can offer them cause of the chaos that has ensued. end OOC)

The chamber was filler to bursting members of the international community clamored within the small building set up in nuetral territory as tempory diplomatic out post. All the nations were represent. The Imperium had some of its leadership and the Emperour in atendance. Callineb had a deligation sent. The realms ofHidden also was their. Even the Dardnites had representatives too. But they all sat quietly looking towards the make shift podium at the center of the horde.

"Masters and Mistresses today I wish to propse something to you all. Not just individually but as a whole. The gods for reasons un-beknownst to us, have struck down our banners and removed the colors of our nations from our soldiers uniforms. Chaos has ensued we cannot tell who is who and so that none of our councils, providences, or whatever are molested unjustly. I propse that ALL hostilities cease. I propse that all current wars are placed on hold. By no means does this signify peace but a courtousy extended to one another to set our own house in proper order. That those kingdoms and providences out there upon our isle be left alone peacful for a period of three days. That we as bands of kingdoms can do this. That we can leave one and all untouched by war. Once these three days end if nations currentl engaged in hostilities wish to resume them that is their choise and their right. This proposal is set before you only so that we may all set our houses in order before we continue upon our war thrawt path. I leave you now to approve or to dis approve of this as it would have to be the nations as a majority to set this forth."

The Speaker looked about the room before nodding to a few and returning to his chair.

After the lady had spoken Murder walked forward to the podium. His travelling clothes still muddy from the night's rain.

"The Elder Saint, Decae, has requested to deliver a message to the assembled ambassadors. Please listen, if you have an ear to do so."

Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out a scroll to review shortly, then set it down in front of him.

"Peace is an option that you can ill afford at any time, nor one that your gods would surely reward you for choosing. There are strange, confusing things afoot, that will come bubbling to the surface in the next few days. Things that will create strife that makes the recent amnesiatic episodes seem like a trifle.

You will need the full favor of your gods, and the full backing of your faithmates to move through these times. Now is not the time to become bedfellows to the devils you once fought toothe and nail. Now is the time to solidify your power, lest it be yanked from your cold hand in the near future."

His lips moved a bit more, as if there were more, then his hands collected the scroll, then walked with deliberate haste from the hall.

The high priestess of noon entered, seeing a few already discussing this proposal. She looked over to Luclin, they had met before, and she had unfinished business. After finding a seat away from everyone else, she looked at her surroundings at more specifically at Luclin, with non too happy eyes.

It seems to me that Forets and Isonians were well aware of this said 'proposal'.The young priestess said as she stood from her seat.

Wouldn't you find it rather..odd, Lord Luclin, that we Dardenites were not aware of this? Many have already started talking about how some of us have 'broken' this non agression pact. Pity to see how blind they are.

She made sure to wait that everyone was looking at her, before she continued. Her point would be understood well, and would be voiced once. Lenne and her guildmates had no time to waste with these such proposal. Why would the Isle of Maxim, and the gods protecting it even agree to such a proposal? The way of life was to fight, certainly not to twiddle our thumbs and wait for a new Intop* to be created!

She couldn't decide what was upsetting her the most. The fact that their god had been humiliated due to the gossip lately, or the scroll that she'd received from Luclin early in the morning. It was quite odd how the ends did not meet. The scroll had arrived quite early on in the morning, yet this proposal had been brought up just now.

Was it not your responsibility, Lord Luclin, to announce this non agression pact to the whole Isle of Maxim before accusing one of my guildmates of attacking one of your guildmates' lands? Before bringing up such a proposal, I think it was in order that every single soul on this Isle knew about it. Not just a select few. As it seems now, Forets and you Isonians were very well aware. However, after a meeting with other Darden followers early this morning, it seems to me that this was news to all of us. Why is that? Coincidence, perhaps?Lenne shook her head and smirked as she looked at the other people here who were discussing the matter with Luclin.

This is sad news for you, now. Because had we been aware, perhaps we, Dardenites, would agree to such a proposal, but seeing as though we were left out of the loop and soon afterwards, unfair accusations were made towards us, I declare that my guildmates and I will not be allying up with any heathen that rests on the Isle of Maxim. We never will stoop to such a level, even if it means we are not garanteed safety for the next few days. Darden will protect us from you petty heathens who dare accuse us, without any proof.The high priestess sat back down with a thud. Her anger had risen quite considerably during her speech, her eyes glared evilly at anyone who so much dared to glance her way.

With that being said, Lenne realized this might stir a bit of uneasiness throughout this discussion, but it needed to be said. She observed on, waiting for someone else to speak up.

The spurs on the heels of the Khan's riding boots clicked on the floor of the chamber. The sound was vaguely annoying to Tamlaine. Stone floors were an idle luxury.

His annoyance, however, was mainly a result of the news that had brought him to this place, himself and an escort, the riders of his clan, now waiting outside.

The Khan of the Steppe had not come to the meeting to speak before the gathered masses. His words were for one, and one alone.

She stood speaking as he entered the room, cold eyes taking in the gathered masses. The majority of them were heathens. Enemies. Such was the way of the Isle. There might be respect between himself and a heathen, and he would be lying before Darden himself were he to pretend that there were no heathens he held respect for - there might be trust, of a sort - but never friendship. The children of the Steppe were as cold and harsh as the winter winds that whipped across its rolling grassland, in that respect.

Little wonder, then, that the mercenary tribesmen so often found themselves in the employ of the more ... fanatical ... amongst the faithful of Darden. Most often riding alongside the devoted of the Onyx Temple, the armies sworn in the service of the demon Maledict, the Torturer; but with the Officium's turning away from the wars of the Isle, Tamlaine's riders had found it necessary to seek employment elsewhere.

Most recently, the nomads of the Steppe had ridden at the behest of an alliance with an altogether ... different ... view of the world. The Silent Flute, they were known as, operatives of an - allegedly - defunct cult of Intop-worshippers known as the Fury of the Ten. Rumour had it that the Fury, too, had been lead by a demon.

However.

The recent days had seen change upon the Isle, change fit to delight Darden Himself, the clever one who delighted in the ever-changing beauty of existence. If one were to worship Him in such an aspect.

The children of the Steppe did not. Instead, they venerated Him in his aspect as the Demon of Tismad, in which they had found common enough cause with the Sanctum Officium. The chaos that had accompanied the changes on the Isle must surely have pleased Him in that aspect, too, the heathens scrambling in chaos and confusion, tasting the bittersweet kiss of despair that was His gift to the world.

While any true child of Darden understood the import of the sundering of the old alliances, if only for a time, it seemed the heathens did not. That they spoke of a time of peace, while the chaos was restored, was one thing. Even war has rules.

What had incensed not only the Khan, though, but also, it seemed, a great many others who proudly flew the orange banners of Darden, was that the heathens not only spoke of a time of peace, they acted as though such a thing had been agreed upon. By all.

Curious, then, that the Darden faithful had seemingly been spoken for at such an agreement, for the Silent Flute and their shadowy cult had apparently found not a single one amongst their number who had been approached. And the heathens bleated, accusing the true faith of having violated a treaty that the Darden worshippers had not even been made aware of.

Suspicious, that. Strange, that the "universal peace", upon closer examination, seemed only to encompass the heathens, so recently locked together in a seeming death-grip. Strange that they had put aside their wars ... for if neither Foret nor Isonia warred each other, then that left few places indeed for their eyes to turn.

Tamlaine shrugged to himself. Such politics were not his concern.

Slipping through the gathered masses, he made his way towards the Priestess, Lenne.

As she finished her repudiation of the Emperor's proposed treaty and resumed her seat, he placed one hand on her shoulder, his voice low, for her ears alone.

You are not alone in this place, should things turn hostile. And should the heathens come for you and yours as a result of this meeting, be advised that the children of the Steppe shall be at your disposal in the days that follow.

The day was growing old, and reports from a good friend within the guild of TEN had came in an attack on a UG with a considerable amount of gain had been made. Murdock smiled and was pleased to hear the news that was brought. The days were becoming slower and slower, the nights quiet. But this night was going to be different Murdock could feel it inside of his thick blood. The bodies in the cemetary were rolling udnerground, their hands coming through the dirt reaching into the air grasping for anything to hold on to to pull themselves up.

Murdock looked at all the graves as the dirt was uneasy and moved with the bodies that were buried. A wave of hatred and emotion was hitting the Isle of Maxim tonight. And the lands would not be quiet. Looting and burnings would be rampant. Murdock and his undead felt it and knew that it needed it be stopped and quickly.

A messenger from the lands of Isonia, of all places approached and was breathing heavily as Murdocks own armies were right behind him about to kill the messenger. Murdock raised his hand and the armies stopped and walked away. Murdock eyed up the messenger and saw that it was one of the Callineb.

Why are you here? If your here just to see how I'm doing the answer is fine and you shall be killed. But if you have anything to mention at all that is of any importance by all means speak up.

The messenger gulped down and began adressing the issue of an "Unofficial NAP" that was to be spread through the Isle. While the messenger spoke with all seriousness Murdock laughed devilishly and smirked. The messenger continued as he continued to eye up Murdock. The messenger finished and Murdock looked at him and put his hand out.

That was quiet amusing. I do beleive I have a job for you here as a jester and entertainer for my dead bodies in the cemetary. If you weren't for a loyal friend of mine, your corpse would be joining them, but since I like you and you make me laugh I'll tell you this much.

Murdock turned his back to him and smiled and told him to get a paper and start writing his words. Murdock spoke slowly and made sure the point got across.

The NAP itself seems to be pretty amusing I do not see why Foret and Isonia would come running with open arms to Darden. Since when have we all got along and been just one happy family? Perhaps you should all consider worrying about yourselves and not us. If we need help we will ask but if you are coming here obviously we didn't ask anything so why are you here? Your heathens and be damned if my demon red blood of Darden would ally with you or agree to such a pact of non-agression when it is not needed and their is no reason for it. Why do you waste my time.

Murdock turrned back to the man and grinned, and asked him if it was clear enough for him. The messenger nodded and Murdock pointed him the way from his lands as two opulents grabbed the messenger by the arms and lifted him off the ground and tossed him out the gates of Murdock's lands.

Murdock had went to his Tower and sat in his office tapping his claws on the hard table top as he looked out the window to see little to no movement in the clouds or the red sky at all. Then a knocking at the door came and a man entered.

Sir, our treasuries, their has been looting and we have good evidence of who the culprits are. Here are the reports and reports of those of our allies over the past few hours of the night.

Murdock turned and looked at the reports loeking deep into them pointing out the evidence, names, realms, lands, scouts, theives. All there and in black and white. The evidence was stacked, so he leaned back and smiled at his general and sent him away with the news.

So it begins now, first the treasuries, then what? Our lands? That will be amusing to watch, I can't wait for it. By the sounds of this so called NAP it is more like a set amount of time for Forets and Isonians to prepare and build up their lands to strike, maybe upon darden now what kind of NAP would that be if that's what they plan..

The silver broach on Ice Maiden's chest had a very faint glow about it if one were magically atuned to that sort of thing. However most would mistake it as an aesthetic glow, rather than one of a useful spell being cast. The work of the mages of Callineb was subtle and very precise. This item had only recently been unearthed but as fate would have it, it arrived just in time.

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Many miles away in Callineb, Taff stood in his personal library with a shard of crystal pressed against a metal drum. The words in the room in The Imperium echoed from the drum, and a crude image from the broach could be seen in the crystal.

Taff sighed, the dardenites seemed suprised and outraged by this suggestion. It did not suprise him, for all of the dardenites he knew were entirely mad, and this suggestion seemed more common sense than anything that needed saying. It was no suprise that none of the usual diplomatic staff had been sent, this was an errand nothing more.
However if the dardenites were not involved in this treaty, then it was not even that. It was pointless, he already knew where he and Callineb stood with foretians. And the delegates that seemed to represent Foret also did not appear to have any view on it.

He had seen enough. This combined with the other reports his eyes and ears had brought in had made his mind up. He tapped the drum, the echo worked both ways, just it was far quieter with the maiden.

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Back in the chamber, Ice Maiden's brooch spoke quietly with Taff's voice.
Enough, this serves us no purpose. The Foretians are uninterested, the Dardenites opposed. Tell them we have no need for this, then return to Callineb.

Lord Iblade had recieved the message calling for temporary truce in the realms. Lord Iblade nodded,

Very Well, we will honor this truce, but I see that the heathen scum networks are still at work. They have left signs of their spying and looting.


Lord Iblade called for the captain of the guard.

Double the guard at the gates, and get the sorcorers up, we have a truce, but tis unsteady and already the night runners are about and moving in thier circles.


The captain nodded and moved off to carry out his orders. Lord Iblade went back inside and removed his armor, well we will have a few days at least to get our fortifications up and better armed.

It filtered down through the taverns and the whorehouses; whispers passed by gossiping hags and ill-looking rumormongers. Echoes of a treaty that supposedly extended across the island, breathless murmuring of a pact that held all of Maxim consignatories – regardless of their wishes and willingness, individual of their desires.

It was when the heathens started putting such non-existant fetters on his own guild, on his actions, and questioning his honor, that the somewhat Elven leader of Divine Light decided enough was enough.

He sat down to write (he had always crafted his own missives).


He licked his lips, and smiled grimly. They would not enjoy this.