Monarchy with Myrorian Characteristics

[Myroria]

June 9, 14 4ME
Somewhere off the coast of Southern Myroria

"Would you like something to drink, Comrade Vrotrith?"

"No, thank you. I'm too busy working on my book."

"Fine." The stewardess plopped the champagne back onto her cart, as if it was a lot of trouble.

Rolf Vrotrith had just gotten to the words "according to" when a loud blast shook the plane he was on. Before he could look up from "his needs", a creaking was heard and the front part of the plane, including both wings and the cockpit, was torn off.

"Oh Jesus."

The remaining part of the plane, containing his inner circle and the lone stewardess, took a nose - well, gaping hole - dive. Rolf looked behind him, ignoring the screaming. A red box, surrounded by an orange border, with "In case of emergency" written on it in German, Inglish, and in pictures for the unlearned, lay in front of his line of sight. Struggling against the wind sucking him down, and holding to each seat for dear life, he grabbed the convenient handle next to it and tore open the box. There, was an olive drab parachute. It even matched his Gallipoli-Chinese jumpsuit, though that wasn't a big surprise considering even the Great House Vrotrith recognized olive drab = communist.

Strapping the backpack onto him, he ran to the front of the plane, now helped by the wind, and jumped at about 2,000 feet above the ground. How glad he was he insisted that the parachute box be installed.

[Myroria]

Rolf opened his parachute, and the tail section of the plane immediately surpassed him and slammed into the ground a few seconds later. The front section had already cartwheeled backward over the tail section and landed in the cold ocean. Rolf landed on a beach near a pine forest. Looking around, he saw nothing but a lighthouse far down the beach. Assuming nothing was around, he began a hike toward it.


A man flipped up the black hood on his just as black sweatshirt. He spoke very quickly to another person in the abandoned house.

"Do you have the money? You better have the money. I don't go blowing up planes for nothing."

"Yesyesyes. It's in this suitcase."

Flipping open the suitcase, the man smiled.

"Good."

"Oh, and one more thing. If word of this not being an accident gets out - say it was Mr. Hanso. I'll contact you then."

[Myroria]

Rolf slammed his fist on the door several times, but there was no answer. Maybe there was someone inside; it was near midnight now, perhaps they were heavy sleepers or they thought it was a robber. Most people in Myroria had guns and it was perfectly legal to kill someone in self-defense, but Rolf knew if he didn't get to a phone, or food, or something, he'd die out here in the near-tundra. Taking a deep breath, Vrotrith kicked the door in. It was empty all inside. This lighthouse was automated. And it looked like it had been for a while - but on the wall was a rotary phone. Rolf stumbled over a chair and caught himself on the wall, before picking up the handset. Frantically, he typed in "000" - the Myrorian emergency number. At least now he knew there was a town nearby. After two rings, someone picked up.

"Charal Emergency Services, Fire, Police, Ambulance, or Guard?"

"Guard! Guard!"

Two clicks, and another woman began speaking.

"Charal Town Guard, what is your emergency?"

"This is Rolf Vrotrith, Comrade of Great House Vrotrith! My plane split apart in the air, and I think I'm the only survivor!"

"Where are you?"

"The lighthouse!"

"I'll be sure the Guard are on their way."


June 10, 14 4ME

"Do you see this? Do you SEE THIS?

I paid you to purge the communists - and what do you do? Mess it up, of course! The one person that needed to die...lived!"

"Sir, it's fine! We'll just blame it on Hanso, like you said!"

There was a sigh.

"This is your last chance. We'll both just have to hope and pray our explanation is bought, or it's off with both our heads!"

[Myroria]

June 10, 14 4ME
Emergency Conference of the Great Houses

"Grandmaster Hanso, Comrade Vrotrith, and Arch-master Tar-Ilium are all present. The conference may begin." said one of the two doormen. Peté stood up.

"Gentlemen, we are all in agreeance that what happened on Comrade's plane yesterday was an extreme act of terrorism. As I see it, Mr. Hanso here seems to be the only possible perpetrator."

"WHAT?" Hanso said, slamming his hands on his side of the table, which was inscribed with the grey and black taijitu of his House.

"I think you did it, 'Your Majesty'!"

"You have no evidence!"

"Which is just as much as you have!"

"Gentlemen, please!" Vrotrith said.

"Can we just stop throwing accusations? The Charal Guard and the Imperial Investigation Administration are on the case. We'll find out who did it soon enough!"

"Fine." Hanso said, sitting down. Peté did the same.

[Myroria]

July 6, 14 4ME
III Conference of the Great Houses (DVIII)

"Well, the preliminary investigation is over. One Marraent Petras, a 32 year old man of Eluvataran-Baltijan descent, has been brought before the court. He revealed in interrogation he was hired by a 38-year-old man, also of Eluvataran descent, with the name Peté Tar-Ilium. The First." Rolf Vrotrith said with restrained jubilation.

"Hehehe. Right. And where is his evidence?"

"Right here." Rolf slid a blank DVD case across the table as he sat down.

"The police found it when they were shaking him down. Well, what are you waiting for? Pop 'er in!"

Peté nervously got up and slid the DVD inside the player. The image appeared on the screen above it.

"Listen, I just want you to kill Rolf Vrotrith. He's going to a convention in Gallipoli-China in a week here, just blow up his plane or something."

"Well, I won't do this for nothing. How much are you paying me?"

"Five-hundred grand."

"Make it seven-fifty."

"Fine. Just do it, and don't get me caught. If the issue does come up, say it was Alvar Hanso. Or Blue April. Or anything. Got it?"

"Heh. Got it. Your Majesty."

[Here the room emptied, presumably with that picture until the DVD ran out]

"Well, that's it. The police said the action ended there."

"W-Where did you get this, Rolf? Did you make it? To frame me?"

"If I was lying, you wouldn't be quivering, Your Majesty."

Arm still shaking, Peté laughed defiantly.

"Even if I did want your plane blew up - which I didn't - what could you do? Move for impeachment? I'm the King!"

"Actually, Your Majesty, I can. Citing Paragraph Two of Section One of the Tablet of Royal Conduct, I move for your impeachment. Your ability to make decrees affecting the Tablet of Royal Conduct is declared null and void until the trial is over. I'll see you in court, Peté."

[Myroria]

July 10, 14 4ME

"The jury has been in deliberation over the charges against His Majesty for about 18 hours now. If you are just now tuning in, the Empeurer has been charged with 65 counts of attempted murder, which could deal him 1,625 years behind bars, plus one account of conspiracy to commit murder, which is another 10. If the judge finds him guilty, Peté Tar-Ilium will be in jail anywhere from 660 to 1,635 years! Needless to say, he'd also lose the throne to the Crown Prince, Meneldur Tar-Ilium. This has been MPEL news, coming to you from Pelagi...just a moment, just a moment. I've recieved word the jury is coming into the courtroom now. Peté's throne hangs in the balance. Let's head inside."

The High Court Justice at the bottom row, at the far right, stood and handed the judge the piece of paper with the verdict as the news crew was entering. The High Court Judge opened the folded piece of paper.

"The jury finds the defendant, Peté Tar-Ilium, not guilty on all charges of attempted murder, and guilty on the charge of conspiracy to commit murder.

I sentence you, the defendant, to 10 years in jail, and the loss of your throne. The High Court Case Vrotrith vs. Tar-Ilium is won by the plantiff."

"What? This is outrageous! This is a monarchy! You can't impeach a monarch!" Peté yelled. A smirk appeared on Vrotrith's face before he swiftly wiped it off. Peté, Empeurer of Myroria, was being led to jail.

[Myroria]

November 5, 14 4ME

"Do you solemnly swear to protect the Original Decrees, and preserve the Unbreakable Decrees?"

"I do."

"Will you, to the best of your ability, use all forces under your disposal to protect Myroria from foreign invaders?"

"I will."

"Will you, as Guardsman of the Bishop of Pelagis, defend the Myrorian Catholic religion and love God and the Bible?"

"I will."

"Then I, High Archbishop under the Bishop of Pelagis, pronounce you Sovereign of Myroria. Ladies and gentlemen present, and Citizens of all Myroria, I give you Meneldur Tar-Ilium I, of Pelagis."

Meneldur bowed to have the crown put upon his head, and the maroon cloak draped about him, then stood up to the microphone and the people assembled in Saint John's Square.

"Ladies and gentlemen, these are the golden days of the Fourth Era. I am but a teenager, but - heh, call it arrogance if you want - but I am worthy of the crown which rests upon my head now. I am only 17, and I have only just entered Term Twelve of my schooling, but there have been countless kings in Myroria and Pelagis that took the throne at my age, or even down to nine.

I am not much for making speeches, but rest assured with this fact: I will not hire men to blow up planes. Good night Myroria, and welcome to a new age!"

OOC: Even though this takes place in November, just assume Meneldur is ruling in the present day. It'll make things easier.