The Empire of New Letonna

[Letonna]

   It was the typical rainy day in New Letonnasburg. However, walking the back streets you never hear anyone complain. The Letonnese people have never been a stranger to the dampness. Ever since the great migration to new lands many years prior. Though the rain came naturally, other challenges arose for the Letonese people. After the fall of the Neustrian government after the great war, the Letonese government and its followers, in exile due to an uprising, were welcomed by various splinter groups. However, much like the Letonese Government(in exile), and it's heavy handed leader Emperor Titus, began influencing local politics in the capital of Neusburg. They had their hands in with the church, the underworld, and prominent members of the fragile reformed government.

   On April 16th, 1923, what remained of the Letonese military(in exile) and the military of the frail puppet government of Neustria over threw the leadership. Instating a replica of the government of The Empire of Letonna, with its Emperor, as head of state, and renaming the capitol New Letonnasburg. Many of the former citizens of Neustria welcomed a change, although cautious of these outsiders. Their caution would soon turn to discontent and suspicion.
   In an attempt to satisfy the demands of the natives, the Letonese government made an effort to register all citizens to vote, welcomed the parties of the natives(although poorly represented in upper government) and extent education and social services to people, regardless of decent. It was not enough however, that protest became more and more frequent as disgruntled Neustrians Lost faith in this foreign Government.

   On the 11th of December, 1941, Emperor Titus died. Official media reports claim he had a heart attack in his sleep. Unofficial reports claimed he was poisoned while eating his evening meal. His only son, now Emperor Ulfrum, assumed the throne. He was 9. His ministers ruled the state while he was in his youth. In their ignorance, they thought that moving Neustrians into the country side and dispersing them, away from New Letonnasburg, would quell the cultural rivalries.

   The Ministers made them a deal: Accept 4.4 acres of land 30 km from the city, or be forced from it with nowhere to go. Many accepted it, many refused it, and many adopted Letonese accents and lived in the shadows and in the underground. Although it did quiet the streets of the capitol, it would only spell trouble for the future...

[Letonna]

September 9th, 1963

   Ulfrum sipped his earl grey tea while reading the city paper. It was his one way of keeping in touch with the people without going through his biased ministers and advisors. Although his Empire could be considered a more controlling one, the press were granted many freedoms as long as they didn't directly oppose the leadership in upper government.

   Most of today's stories were the same ol' same old. The elementary school in the Bannett district was holding a fundraiser for cancer, a petrol station was robbed, some mayor in a suburb town is caught in a sex scandal. One story did catch his eye: 'Neustrian resistance cell ousted in Letonnasburg.' It had been a while since he had heard of any organized resistance in the city. He paused on it and though for a minute.
   Placing his paper down, swigging down the last of the tea, he got up. A servant quickly moved to remove the saucer and paper. Leaving the room through a set of large gilded doors, one of his advisors stood perfectly still waiting to meet him.

   "Good Morning sir, was the tea I sent over satisfactory?"

   "It was average, nice aromatic after taste."

   "Excellent, I acquired it from a contact of mine in western Myroria. They claim it to have medic-."

   "Cut the bull shit Temford. What's this about a rebel cell in Letonnasburg?"

The advisor was caught aback, but quickly gathered himself. The Emperor was usually soft spoken, but could be cold when something worried him.

   "Uhh, well, we're investigating it. So far, the LIB(Letonna Investigation Bureau) thinks it might be organized Neustrians under the influence of a foreign nation."

   The two walked down gilded halls for a good 5 minutes in complete silence until they reached another impressive doorway with Imperial Guards on either side.

   Ulfrum pushed open one of the doors with force, causing a loud bang. His ministers sat around a large oval table with the crest of the Letonnese Royal Family on it. His ministers all stared at him with cold gazes until he took his seat at the head of the table. Ulfrum thought they acted like this because they secretly wanted to take over, or they didn't like his style of leadership, or because he didn't send a birthday card to their daughter, he didn't know.

   His ministers briefed him on typical happenings and developments. Increased trade with Myroria to the west, crop harvests were lower than expected due to heavy summer rain, the spread of the flu is expected to be lower due to advances in sanitation. The meeting ended with the Minister of Internal Security, Albaum Krik, saying in a slightly nervous voice:
   "It appears the rebel cell did indeed have connections abroad, although mostly through funding and advising. When the raid occurred, log books, notes on bomb making, 2 way radios, and small fire arms were apprehended. We have captured some of the suspects alive, but they are badly injured and may not survive."

   Ulfrum tapped his index fingers together as he though. He had nothing personal against the Neustrians, it was his power crazy father and his gang of advisors that did. But he can't just let them back in the city and give them back their lands. His people would never have it; caught in their racial ideals that they are somehow better than them.

   "Let the LIB handle this, tell them to follow all leads. But remind them they are paid to investigate, not start race wars. They are given guns to defend themselves, not burst into private basements without a warrant."

   "yes, my lord."

And with that, the ministers gathered their papers and left Ulfrum alone in the large echoic conference hall. His brow wrinkled as he worried about that might be brewing in his own city that he didn't know about.

[Myroria]

A large, boxy black car - probably Novmiri-produced - was rolling down a long-disused logging road in southwest Myroria towards a river making up part of the border between County Traval and Letonna. The car, containing two agents of the Myrorian Intelligence Agency, as well as a backseat and trunk full of firearms, had been driving off of any paved road for a little over two hours before finally the road dipped and a blue river with wide banks came into view.

The car rolled to a stop by the banks of the river and two men got out. Both were tall and slim, as most field agents of the MIA were, and were wearing gray flannel business suits, probably too hot for work in the middle of a forest on a September day.

"Do you see anything, Galyn?" asked the man in the drivers seat.

"Nothing. They were supposed to be here, Dalvus." The names, fake of course, were one of two ways to tell the men apart - in all other respects they were so unremarkable and similar looking they might as well have been brothers. The other way was by their ties: Galyn, a House Quarrovth man, wore a deep reddish-brown tie, the color of which could either be described as "burnt umber" or "a rusty nail covered in dried blood". Dalvus, a House Moomintroth man, wore a black tie with gold diagonal stripes - a formal, tired pattern for a formal, tired family. The color-coded ties were hardly necessary to their work, but so many MIA agents did intelligence for Great Houses on the side it helped to know who might stab you in the back as soon as you finished your work for the royals.

"They'll show up." Dalvus replied. Opening his car door to step outside, he was immediately assaulted by a flurry of mosquitoes, black flies, and gnats that made the forest their home. Giving the door a nice slam, he put his sunglasses on and stood, staring at the wide river with his hands on his hips.

"There." Galyn said, turning to face a raft with six men buzzing its way across the river.

"one... two... six men?" Dalvus said with a mixture of confusion and anger. "They didn't tell us they'd be sending six guys." Galyn sighed and shook his head. As the raft beached itself on the bank and the men climbed out, the two MIA agents moved a hand towards their sidearms. The men coming towards them looked disheveled, hungry, and in desperate need of a shave. Dalvus held out his hand as the gang approached.

"Agent Dalvus of the Myrorian Intelligence Agency. This is my partner, Agent Galyn."

"Fernand Decoteaux," replied the man at the front of the pack, looking the least disheveled and the most recently fed. "We represent the Neustrian resistance." Decoteaux looked at Dalvus' outstretched hand for a moment before ignoring it and continuing. "My grandfather fought yours here 60 years ago. The resistance back in Letonnasburg might trust you, but you'll have to earn it here." Dalvus used the hand he was planning to greet Decoteaux with to slap a black fly that landed on his neck.

"Alliances change. We can assure you that the highest reaches of the Myrorian government are sympathetic to your plight." Galyn interjected.

"Pah! Your foreigner king might have sympathies for us but we know your populace feels the same way as we do."

"Gentlemen," Dalvus said, wiping the fly carcass off his fingers, "Allow me to show you how far His Majesty's government is willing to go to ensure your victory." Leading the group of men around to the back of the car, he fumbled with the keys in his pocket for a minute before opening the trunk. Inside, carefully stacked, must have been at least twenty-five assault rifles and ten more bolt-action guns, as well as two tripod-mounted machine guns on top like a cherry on a milkshake. Fending away murmered excitement from Decoteaux's men, he walked around to the left-hand back passenger door and opened it, showing off three rocket-propelled grenade launchers laid down lengthwise across the bench seat.

"His Majesty's government is very keen on having a Neustrian state as an ally," Dalvus said to Decoteaux, who could hardly take his eyes off the arsenal. "In fact, he's willing to give you these free-of-charge in exchange for a promise that you'll... shop with us again in the future." The men behind Decoteaux chuckled and he wordlessly nodded affirmation.

[Letonna]

It was a rare sunny September day in the city. You could hear the loud pops of a tennis ball being smacked back and forth. Ulfrum and the Minister of Internal Affairs were playing a game of singles while discussing recent developments with the Neustrians. Ulfrum wasn't very good at tennis, but his ministers and advisors always let him win, which he was fine with.

   "We suspect...*smack*...The Royals in Myroria *smack*...are somehow propping up resistance*smack*. How much *smack* and to what extent*smack*...we aren't entirely sure." The Minister spoke while running and hitting the ball.

Ulfrum remained silent while he smashed the ball right between the ministers legs. Game, set, match. A palace servant quickly ran up to Ulfrum to give him a towel.

   "Do you have any definitive proof? Any confessions? Spottings?"

   "Our contacts in Neustrian country have reported unusual movements to and from the boarder. We've ruled out fishing because this isn't the season the salmon and other fish run, and we've also consulted with the Ministry of Development and found out no new settlements are being formed there. Most movements have also been through farming communities near the border."

   "These aren't just seasonal workers going in to help with the harvest?"

   "Unlikely. The Ministry of Agriculture monitors all workers in the event suspicious shortages and poisoning. Especially since a lot of the migrant workers are Neustrian."

Ulfrum laughed inside his own head at the fact that bloated bureaucracy came in useful for a change.

   "What do they have to gain? Why would the Royals support instability so close to their boarders?"

   "We hypothesize, though this is unconfirmed, they may be selling the arms, or may be investing in a puppet ally. "

Ulfrum's eyes squinted. Although the two governments never became 'friends', they kept differences and grievances aside to allow trade. He knew they Myrorians well enough to know there's likely much more to this than appears. They were very good at weaving webs. This may even be a House acting on its own. Right from the beginning he really hoped it wasn't them, but always suspected.

   "Minister, contact General Vess, tell him to deploy scouts to the boarder. Make it clear to him I was him to WATCH, not fight. Remind him of the incident in 1954 if you have to. If his scouts see anything, I want to be the first to know."

   "Yes my lor-"

   "And Minister. Contact our embassy in Myroria. Tell them to..put their ear to the ground."

   "Yes my Lord."

Ulfrum Grinned a sinister grin. If the Myrorians wanted to play with him, he would join in. Just because they made the first serve doesn't mean he's at a disadvantage. His ambassadors and him often had secret code phrases they used incase their messages were being intercepted. For example, "Keep an eye on your check book" would be interpreted as: I give you permission to bribe. "Invite guests over" would be kidnap someone. "Put their ear to the ground" is code for make contacts in the underworld/unsavory tiers of society/look for friends in government or power. He knew not all Houses in Myroria agreed with one another, and although the Royalty there is likely behind this, there's always someone who's quick to take an opportunity to get ahead, especially in Myroria.

As Ulfrum walked back into the palace, he heard something faint in the background, like a soft boom. He turned around to find a pillar of black smoke rising from the other side of the city...

[Myroria]

The "Q" Club in Traval City, about fifty miles from the border with Letonna, was like many other "Q" Clubs throughout the nation: Dark both outside and inside, covered in wood paneling, and filled with cigar smoke and Quarrovth men. Agent Galyn entered the old boy's club immediately after parting ways with Dalvus upon entering the city; nodding his head towards a doorman-cum-bouncer standing by the entrance, he walked up to the bar - barely visible through the thick smoke - and stood between two stools.

"Sidecar, please. With Armagnac." As the bartender silently nodded and turned around, a man approached him from behind.

"Agent Galyn," the man said. Galyn knew before he even began to turn that it was Aldos Quarrovth, head of the Traval Meetinghouse and the queen's first cousin once removed, which he made sure to remind anyone who would listen of.

"Sera," Galyn said straight-faced. Hearing the bartender shake Galyn's cocktail, Aldos spoke up.

"There's a gentleman in the lounge who was asking for the two of us. I figured you'd be in tonight," he said. Galyn sighed and scratched his head.

"Just let me get my drink and I'll be right in."

"He came all the way from Pelagis."

"Did I stutter, Aldos? I said just let me get my drink." Aldos, holding up his hands sarcastically, pushed himself off the bar and walked towards the back of the club.

"Sera," the bartender said, handing him his drink. Galyn put a ten guilden note on the bar and took his glass. Winking at a cocktail waitress as he passed, Galyn half walked, half swaggered to the door at the back of the club that led into a private lounge.

The air inside the lounge was much less smoky than the air in the club, and Galyn breathed fully for the first time in at least fifteen minutes. Giving a quick scan of the place - just as wood-panelled and darkly furnished as the rest of the club - he saw Aldos and a man in a cream blazer sitting at a booth in the back. Aldos beckoned him over with his hand.

"Ralmyn," Aldos said. Galyn, taken aback by the first use of his actual name all day, stuttered for a second. "This is, uh," Aldos continued, forgetting the name of the man seated opposite him.

"Gothren Quarrith," the man said, extending a hand.

"Uh, Ralmyn Prolrovth." Galyn - well, Ralmyn replied. "Serjo Quarrith... you used to work in the Imperial Residence, right?"

"Uh, I was Imperial Chamberlain for some length of time... " Gothren said, pausing as if the following words still hurt him, "But His Majesty saw uses for me... elsewhere."

"Ah," Ralmyn said, taking a seat beside Aldos.

"I understand you wanted to speak with us, Mr. Quarrith?" Aldos said in the way an old woman might ask for the latest gossip.

"Well, actually," Gothren began, "I'd just like to speak to Mr. Prolrovth. Or is it Agent Galyn?" he asked.

"Oh," Aldos said, obviously hurt. "Well I won't keep you." Ralmyn stood to let Aldos out and watched as he hurried away back to the front of the club.

"He doesn't take exclusion well, I take it?" Gothren said with a chuckle.

"Something like that," came Ralmyn's reply.

"So, do you prefer Ralmyn or Galyn?"

"Depends on the job, I suppose. If that's why you drove all the way from Pelagis to speak to me."

"Well, to be honest I think I would probably prefer your Quarrovth name rather than your Imperial name." Ralmyn chuckled.

"Whatever works for you, guy." Gothren looked behind his shoulder before continuing.

"There aren't many more agents House Quarrovth can trust," he began. "We understand you've done work for us before and so that puts you closer to the top of our shortlist for this job. I'm not sure how much you know about my departure from the Residence."

"I don't follow Pelagis politics. I just follow orders."

"Good. We can use someone like that. I've been the eyes and ears for... certain high-ranking nobles of House Quarrovth since His Majesty let me go. We've gotten some very concerning intelligence regarding MIA movements near the border with Letonna, and just recently we've heard reports that Neustrian rebels are moving around those parts as well. Now, Ralmyn,"

"I don't know what you're asking me to do, sera."

"Well, Ralmyn, I don't know what you know or what you've done with the MIA, but we're willing to offer you a significant cash reward if you'll be our eyes and ears out here in County Traval. House Quarrovth has little interest in seeing our trade partner fall to a bunch of Neustrian rebels who would probably restart the Great War the first chance they get."

"I've never been a double agent, Mr. Quarrith. At least not for the length of time you're asking for. Who knows how long these clashes will go on for? I don't. Ulfrum or the Neustrians don't even know that."

"I can assure you," Gothren said, reaching for a satchel next to him, "The rewards of your work for House Quarrovth will be in proportion to the effort." Ralmyn, unsure until he saw the volume of cash sitting next to Gothren, smiled.

[St Oz]

Travel City

A wealthy landowner with his amateur poet of a wife owned an upscale apartment in a building across the street from the "Q Club". A recent publication of his wife's poetry caught the attention of dignified La Sava literature critics. Much to the surprise of the literature community, La Sava even had critics. Not only that, but they took an interest in an aristocratic woman's bad poetry, which compared her love of her husband to a dewy morning in April. Though the poetry only created distorted, confused faces when published, the Ozians in La Sava loved it for its ‘geniuine love story’, and they offered the couple a free, all-expenses paid trip to La Sava to accept the award and 10,000 Pei prize from an anonymous donor. However, this anonymous donor was none other than STIA. There was a second prize the couple won. Two women, one with dark blue eyes and the other with maroon eyes, unlocked the door to their exquisite apartment with a copy of their key. They found their way through the dark apartment to the wife’s library. They called the one with blue eyes, Larry, and they called the one with maroon eyes, Saul. Randomized Inglish first names were usually selected to each on the first day of training, and only if you’re close friends in real life do other agents actually know your real name. 

The cat greeted the two by rubbing up against their leg as they unloaded the large radio boxes from their bags. He hopped up onto the wife’s writing desk to gain further attention. The orange tabby wore a collar with a heart-shaped tag on the front of its neck and inscribed on it was “Tiger”.

Larry rushed to connect one wire to another on the large black boxes featuring several dials and meters, and Saul peaked outside at the Q-club with a pair of binoculars. The two women both wore jeans that were accented by their keffiyehs. Under normal circumstances they’d wear more local clothing, but their covers were Ozian auditors from the Staii direship. They both had young faces, but Larry had a beauty mark on the right cheek, and Saul had a beauty mark on the left cheek. Though they looked similar, Saul had darker skin, and foreigners commented that Larry was prettier. The context of the word pretty in Ozian made this insulting to the Larry, because to be called pretty meant someone had nothing else to say about the person.

“Oi, there’s a tacky Novmir’zhi car driving in. Did you make connection with the bugs yet?” asked Saul.

“I might need some help.” She fumbled to untangle some headphone wires and connect them to their ports. Meanwhile Saul just watched, “All right, all right, tuning and decrypting.”

“Hurry up Larry. We can’t send anot-”

“It’s done, come help me listen.”

She waved a hand to her, “I want to see him.”

“Who?”

“Gothren of course!”

“We don’t even know if he’ll be here,” Larry grumbled, listening into two headphones at a time to find which bug Galyn would sit by. “Focus on the job would ya? He’s not going to show. What’s your deal with Gothren anyways? Are you going to be one of those prissy Catholic girls waiting for a prince charming to marry you?”

“Fuck no! I just want to spend a few nights with him, not sex with him, you know, I just want to-”

“Please don’t finish that sentence, I don’t need to know my partner is a Dominata” (specialized Ozian dominatrix)

“Shhh! He’s here! He’s here!”

“Great you saw him, now get on the fucking radio and take notes. I think I found out where Galyn is sitting.”

“Why aren’t we the cocktail waitresses? I hate listening to bugs, and I want to see his face.” Larry pouted.

“Because last time we did you made a man sing falcetto for grabbing coping a feel, and then we were deported!”

Larry sighed as Gothren walked into the club, “Oh right.” Then she flopped her hand with the binoculars down and retreated to the writing desk. She places the binoculars next to the cat and gave Tiger a quick behind the ears rub. Larry and Saul now hit record on the bugs’ radio signals, meanwhile listening in with their headphones.

Agent Galyn… Sera… crackled the radio in the headphones. He chatted with the bartender, but Larry quickly realized that he was moving again. She smacked Saul, “Are you listening to this? We need to find where he’s moving to.”

“Oh, he’s at Gothren’s table!”

“You were only listening to Gothern weren’t you?”

“So what if I was!”

Larry rolled her eyes and switched the headphone jack to listen into this table now.

Ralmyn… this is uh… the radio crackled again.

Saul finally took her job seriously now, “What’s with these MIA guys and announcing to the world their codenames and titles?”

“Non-Gaeanist men like to convince each other and women about how important they are. Then Ozian women like yourself are attracted to that because they think they can flog sense into the man.”

“You’re not wrong, I do like me a spunky man. Ozian men are just too docile.”

Uh, I was Imperial Chamberlain for some length of time…

Larry mocked Gothren by sticking her right hand in her jacket and sinking her voice with a Myrorian accent, “Unnnh… Ms. Saulie Paulie, I used to be Imperial Chamberlain, for some length of time.”

Saul furrowed her eyes, “Don’t call me Missus. Ugh, the nerve of you.”

So, do you prefer Ralmyn or Galyn, the radio headphones continued. Larry motioned her hand like a mouth, rolling her eyes, bobbing her head, and opening and closing her hand as they listened. “On with it you two.”

Good. We can use someone like that. I've been the eyes and ears for... certain high-ranking nobles of House Quarrovth since His Majesty let me go… The two of them perked up, jotting down the time stamp, and clearly more interested in the conversation.

Saul looked over at Larry’s blue eyes, “That’s certainly interesting.”

“Gothren’s looking for a double, what’s he trying to investigate?”

“A Neustrian Affair.”

“Exciting!”

“Imperials undermining Imperials, it’s like a historical telenovella back home. Ozi’pol’s going to love this” 

[Letonna]

Ulfrum grumbled. The paper was riddled with stories and accounts of the Letonnasburg bombing 3 days before. He had delayed making a public statement for too long. He wanted to wait until he had more information. He didn't want to go before his people to say their very country men and neighbors to the west were turning against them without having a definitive plan . Although he wouldn't use the term 'countrymen'. Although they technically had rights, Neustrians were considered second class citizens by most government and common Letonnese citizens.

He rubbed his chin, feeling the 3 day stubble. Staring at a portrait of some long dead Letonese noble, he thought deeply. Rumors had it other nations besides Myroria had showed interest, although these were just mumbles. His generals wanted military retaliation; outright invasion. He of course dismissed them, they were just looking for more stars and medals, bored with policing Neustrians. General Voss reported that he did indeed see craft crossing the river, although exactly what was occurring on the other side is unclear, although Neustrians came back with things.

Ulfrum picked up his phone and told his secretary to prepare a press release for later this afternoon. He had to tell his people something. He grabbed a pen and paper, and prepared to jot down notes. His buzzer on his desk let out sharp artificial noise, alerting to him he had a visitor.

   "Come in."

He hadn't remembered scheduling any visitors. It must be something important if his secretary hadn't alerted him.

A medium height man walked in. He had on a grey uniform and insignia signifying he was a lower rank member of the Ministry of Diplomatic Relations. He stood before Ulfrum's desk and bowed.

   "My lord. Our Embassy in Myroria has made contact with possible allies. They are willing discuss the current situation, but only in person, and only with you. No other details have been given to me from Ambassador Vechs in Myroria."

There was silence for 30 seconds while Ulfrum thought this over. The messenger remained silent as he remained bowed, trying to be perfectly still.

   "Where?"

   "They would prefer at the border, or as close to it as possible. Ambassador Vechs had the idea of meeting in the settlement of Ingsfaulm. It's close to the border, and there is little Neustrian resistance present."

   "Tell Vechs I agree to this, but let them know they will be watched, and I will have protection in case they plan anything dubious."

   "Yes my Lord."

The Messenger stood up from his bow and promptly left. His earlier hunch proved fruitful. Not all was as it seems in Myroria. Although a politically awkward place, there's always someone willing to throw you a bone if you agree to throw one back.

Ulfrum let out a deep sigh, and went back to writing

==============================================================================

It was a little before 7 p.m. Ulfrum had the Ministry of Communications create a half hour window on all TV stations for him to make a broadcast. He picked this time, because this was when most citizens were home, and it was right before the hit talk show, Late In Letonna with Belrum Sengi.

Ulfrum adjusted his tie. He wore a charcoal grey suit, with a lapel pin with the Letonese Royal Crest on it. He sat behind his desk, fidgeting with uneasiness. The man behind the camera said he would be on in 30 seconds. He took a deep breath, and slowly released it. He was usually ok with public speaking, but he was used to just speaking to his inner circle  and delivering holiday messages to his citizens. The man behind the camera counted down from five on his fingers, then pointed at The Emperor. Six seconds of silence went by before Ulfrum cleared his throat and began to speak.

   "Good evening my people. Three days ago, a bomb went off in Letonnasburg, killing seven civilians, one police member and injuring four others. I'm deeply hurt by such actions. As many of you may already suspect, these attacks come from within, from groups within our walls and boarders. I have been working close with all branches of government to see that we are not struck in such a vital spot again.

   Now, as I'm sure a lot of you also know, these attacks have come from our own civilians. Radical Neustrian cells in the city and country side. I ask you to mourn the dead and their families, but heed caution in your blame. Remember a lot of Neustrians are good, hard working people, and a radical minority is not the face of a people. If you need someone to blame, someone to hate, someone to despise, hate people, Neustrian or otherwise, who support terrorism against innocent civilians on their way home from work.

   I will see to it that these groups, and their supporters are brought to justice. Letonna is intolerant of these groups. If you have any tips or knowledge of possible cells, you are encouraged to contact the Ministry of Internal Affairs or your local police station.
   Now, I also regret to inform you, due to possible activities with our Boarders to the west, we are closing all civilian travel to and from Myroria and Austrasia. Trade will continue, but will be audited and monitored by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and be subject to searches for illegal transport of arms and supplies by the Ministry of Trade and Commerce. Citizens abroad will be allowed to cross the border and return home, but will be subject to searches. Civilians, Neustrian or otherwise, are discouraged from traveling at night, and may be subject to questioning if suspected of illegal activities.

   And finally,  many military personnel will be called to report to their respective commanders for active duty to ensure the safety of our people and borders.  This is not a call to war, but a need to booster our policing force, and keep you safe.

   Now, I wish you, my people, a restful evening. Trust in your police, your government, your Emperor, and even yourself, to bring about a safer Letonna, like we've known and loved for so long. Goodnight."

[Myroria]

Gothren nervously tapped his foot and looked around. The rural areas of County Traval were always full of Pelagians, and the town of Larochille, near the border, had an especially large number of them. Even the bus driver that dropped Gothren off seemed urgent to get out of here. Adjusting his sport coat, he saw a white Earth Rover come rumbling down the badly-maintained road. Breathing a sigh of relief, he picked up the briefcase standing on the ground next to him and put his cool face back on.

“Ralmyn? I didn’t know they were sending you. This is a sensitive operation.” Gothren said through the open passenger-side window, annoyed.

“I’m perfectly capable of being sensitive, Gothren. I wasn’t followed. But now that you bring it up, I don’t remember my contact saying someone of your… stature would be assigned for this.” Gothren, who now looked as well as sounded annoyed, climbed in the passenger seat with his briefcase.

“We were going to send an aide, but our employer insisted I meet with Ulfrum myself. Royal protocol demands someone of some stature, in your words.”

“Buckle up,” Ralmyn said, changing the subject. “These roads are rough.”


Ulfrum sat in a Letonese military scouting vehicle, parked on a dirt road separating two fields. They had already been harvested of their bounty, so it was unlikely any workers would be around. A scouting vehicle was chosen over a Limo because that would draw attention, while vehicles patrolling the countryside were common. A body guard dressed as an aid was sitting in the drivers seat, while a representative from the Ministry of Diplomatic Relations sat in the back along with another armed guard. Armed snipers were also in the forest surrounding the fields.

   Ulfrum checked his watch. He was early, but his protection incested it so they could monitor the area.
   “Do you have the name of the contact? Is he someone of status? I don’t want some errand boy.”
   “We’re told they are well respected members of their organization.” One of the guards spoke.
 Ulfrum grumbled. A radio clicked to life in the vehicle, and a crackly voice said “They’re here.”

   “Finally. Let’s go out and welcome our guests, shall we?”
Ulfrum opened the door of the vehicle, and stepped out to see a white Myrorian vehicle approaching with a large cloud dust behind it.


“Look, there he is!” exclaimed Ralmyn, pointing.

“Keep your hands on the wheel,” Gothren said dismissively. “Why are you so giddy?”

“I’ve never met a king before,” Ralmyn said with a frown. Gothren rolled his eyes. The white vehicle slowly rolled to a stop on the side of the road and Ralmyn unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Follow my lead. I’ve never met a king before,” Gothren said, repeating Ralmyn sarcastically. Gothren closed the passenger-side door behind him and buttoned his sport coat, looking up. It was a clear day when they entered the forest in Myroria but now it looked like rain was coming. Ralmyn rounded the back of the car and stood next to Gothren, the pair walking towards Ulfrum. Gothren bowed as he approached, clearly experienced after spending ten years working with the Myrorian Imperial Family, but Ralmyn bent himself at the waist a little more awkwardly.

“Your Majesty. My name is Gothren Quarrith; I represent Great House Quarrovth, and this is Ralmyn Prolrovth, an associate of mine. I understand some associates of Your Majesty’s requested House Quarrovth send a delegation to meet you?”

“That is correct. I thank you gentlemen for making the trip.”

Ulfrum paused to observe the men in front of him. They held nice posture, and looked him directly in the eye. He liked that. Many of his own men, ministers and advisors couldn’t even do that.
“Well, let’s get down to business. I have been informed that your house many not see eye to eye with your greater governments actions. I’m also aware a lot of the trade between us benefits your house especially. What I want from you are movements, times and locations where the arms trades are going on. If you can do this, I might be able to sway more business and contracts your way, maybe even wave some import and export taxes.”

Gothren and Ralmyn looked at each other for a moment before the former asked,

“Do you think that’s practical, Ralmyn?”

“I think that’s doable. But Quarrovth doesn’t have men everywhere. It’s possible an agent or two that we don’t have connections with might be assigned to a drop, and if that happens they’re off our radar.” Ralmyn replied, looking at Ulfrum. “Ever since Peté took the throne he’s been tightening his hold on the MIA and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a few associates in the offices back in Pelagis as well. But I think the Quarrovth has enough loyal men in the MIA to make a deal like that practical.”

   “Excellent. I know you gentlemen will try your best to convey my wishes.”
 Ulfrum turned around and gave a nod to his representative from the Ministry of Diplomatic relations, who opened the vehicle and took out a briefcase. Walking up to Gothren and Ralmyn, he opened it. The briefcase was padded, and in it were three bottles of green liquid.
   
   “A Letonese delicacy, reserved only for the royal family. A gin, infused with the rare Laum flower. I gift for the two of you, and the third for your house leader.”

Gothren hesitated before reaching for the briefcase. In Myrorian politics, the most common gift one would give to another would be a knife in the back.

"Your Majesty is very gracious, sir." Handing the briefcase to Ralmyn, he continued. "I'm afraid we don't have anything of similar worth to present you, Your Majesty,  but I can let you in on some intelligence our House has recently acquired. We can't say for sure, but we've had... indications that Eluvatarans might be infiltrating the MIA. Whether it's lone actors or EROB I can't be sure but..." Gothren paused as Ralmyn slammed the car door and returned to the impromptu meeting. "if EROB is trying to get its fingers in our pie we'll do our best to hinder them. Our employers have little tolerance for foreign influence."

“Hmm.” Ulfrum said aloud as he rubbed his chin. “This is an interesting development.”
He let a few seconds of silence pass as he stared into the distance.
“Very well, I thank you for this information.I wish you gentlemen a safe journey back into your nation.”
Ulfrum gave a nod to them and turned back to his men behind him. They got in, and drove past Ralmyn and Gothren, back to the main road.

“He’s shorter than I thought he’d be,” Ralmyn said. Gothren sighed.

“Get back in the car.”

[Letonna]

You could hear a fountain in the background trickling, while birds chirped overhead, and the sound of a teaspoon tapping against a cup. Ulfrum starred with a bored expression into his cup of tea while the two of his ministers talked on. He kept slowly stirring his tea, while they kept explaining to him why he should do this and how he should not do that. It could be said he had the same respect for his ministers as they for him, the only difference is they answered to him. Today for tea, he had Byrin Dempfon, Minister of Internal Security, and Ferra Kevvris, Minister representing government media representation.

   "...So that's why it's in your best interest to crack down harder on illegal Neustrians in the city, we simply can't afford any more incidents." Byrin said in a monotone voice.

Ulfrum blinked a few times before snapping back to attention.

   "You can't appear distant and uncaring in the eyes of the people. We need the populace to know you will not tolerate such crime from...savages, living in our very own city." Ferra said, equally monotone as Byrin.

   "I'm not sure if you two are aware of this, but these are still human beings, and I'm also not sure if you're aware of this, under the Equal Representation and Reform Act of 1957, they are citizens like the rest of my people. True, under law they can't be in the city, but I refuse to break down doors and install martial law in my own city to root out a few bad eggs."

Both Ministers put on a sour glare and scowl.

   "My Lord, allowing these people to continue on will start outright war. What of the Neustrians in the military? They could be inspired by this riff raff and turn against their officers!"

   "We're unable to censor the news reports under law. People all over the nation are aware of the situation, and who's to blame. Neutrians all over the nation are seeing what's happening. They could be inspired to take up arms!" Ferra chimed in.

Ulfrum sighed, and went back to looking into his tea and tapping his spoon.
   "There's a solution to this, it just hasn't been made clear yet. Options will make themselves known in time. "
Byrin was engulfed in anger. He clenched his fists and grinded his teeth. He wanted to knock that damn spoon out Ulfrums smug hands that instant, but resisted. Striking the Emperor was punishable by death. He closed his eyes, let out a deep sigh, and said "Yes.....My Lord."

The two ministers stood up, bowed, and dismissed themselves.  Ulfrum picked up his cup, took a sip, and whispered to himself "...Coward."
A light drizzle had started in Letonnasburg. It was about 5 p.m. and many people in the city were on their way home from work. Fritz Ronfer walked down a busy street with shops and business on both sides. He passed tired looking men and women carrying brief cases. He also had a brief case, but it didn't have papers in it. He was on his way to the corner of 6th and Victory St, a very busy intersection. He avoid saying anything or making eye contact as he passed people in the crowded side walk. He didn't want to arouse any suspicion that he was actually Neustrian.

His heart raced. He had just signed onto a cell in downtown Letonnasburg that made bombs. His first mission was to throw his briefcase into busy traffic, and try to make it out alive. His eyes watered up as he thought of home. Vauumstrefn, a small Neustrian farming village near the border with Austrasia. He missed the simple days of herding cattle and plowing fields. He hated his brother at this moment for pressuring him to join the Neustrian Resistance Movement.

A man rushing through the crowd bumped into him, knocking both their briefcases to the ground. They both looked at each other. The man wore a black suit with a lapel pin on it. The pin appeared to be the insignia of some ministry, Fritz wasn't sure what one.

   "I'm so sorry, I was rushing home. My kids are sick and I need to get them to a doctor. Let me get your brief case for you."

Fritz panicked. He stared with a look of fear at the man as he picked up both brief cases.
   "Again, I'm really sorry, but I must be going. What was your name?"

Fritz's eyes widened. He had to think of a Letonese sounding name, and say it with a Letonese accent.

   "Uhh, I'm uhh, Traumen....Traumen Gren."

The man gave Fritz a weird look, but didn't seem to give it much though.

   "Well Traumen, sorry again. Have a nice day. Glory to Letonna."

And with that the man was off. Fritz stood still for a second while he tried to gather himself. "That was a close call" he thought. Tightening his grip on his briefcase, he continued walking. He was closer than he realized, only about 100 feet away. He slowed his pace. He could see two elderly women chatting on the corner as cars sped by. They would be right in the blast range. He got pains in his stomach as he thought of his own grandmother back home.

As he stopped at the corner, he overheard the women discussing a deal on canned foods at some grocery store. He wasn't familiar with Letonnasburg so he couldn't really process it anyway. He stood staring into traffic. A Letonese policemen stood in the middle of the intersection and directed traffic . Fritz wondered if the man had any family. A wife, a kid? Who knew. His breathing slowed. If he didn't do it, his comrades would consider him a traitor and a snitch, and probably kill him. He had to do it. It was either these people on the street, or him and his own people. Swallowing, taking a deep breath, he pressed in a button on the top of the brief case. He could faintly hear a sizzling.

He threw the brief case 20 feet into the middle of the intersection and screamed "Glory to Neustria!" He heard a woman gasp before all noise was drowned out by an unfathomably loud bang and a blinding flash of light.

[Letonna]

Ulfrum leaned against a balcony on one of the top floors of the palace. He had an excellent view of downtown. The sun had just set, but the sky still had a faint trace of light in it. The red and blue lights of emergency vehicles could be seen lighting up the still rising smoke. He took a long drag off his cigarette. He had given up smoking up years ago. Well, until now. He took a sip of the remainder of his bourbon. It was his fifth, and he waved a hand to a servant to fetch a sixth.

A figure stood behind him, his features barely recognizable in the dusk light. Ulfrum turned around to face the man. He took off a drag, and exhaled. A tear was slowly running down his cheek.

   "Do it."

   "Yes my lord."



The Hevrum Pub was much more crowded than a usual Tuesday night. Many people packed in to watch the 9 p.m. news and hear about the 6th and Victory bombing from earlier today. A few minutes past nine, the TV cut to a man in a suit with the Letonnese Ministry of Internal Security seal behind him. Everyone in the pub was at attention, and the bar tender turned up the volume.

   "Good evening citizens of Letonna. It is with a heavy heart I inform you that a bombing took place in our fair city. A Neustrian savage murdered twenty four innocent people, and injured thirty more. Our thoughts will go out to the victims and their families. It is with this sad news, Emperor Ulfrum and the Ministry of Internal Security have decided to enact these temporary measures to keep you safe.

   Firstly, a city wide curfew will be in effect starting tomorrow at 6:30 pm, and lasting to 7 a.m., and will be in effect until further notice. Night workers will need to receive a special permit. Anyone caught between these hours will be detained and questioned.

   Secondly, the military will take over policing duties, and will be patrolling the streets at all hours. If you suspect anyone of misdoing, or have any information regarding the tragedies that occurred today, you are encouraged to report to the Ministry of Internal Security.

   And Lastly, any Neustrian caught in the city will be shot on sight, regardless of circumstance. The Letonnasburg Neustrian Deportation Act is in suspension, and the military has full discretion to use force against anyone proven not to be of Letonese decent. If you suspect anyone of being over 50% Neustrian heritage, you are to report them to The Ministry of Internal Affairs for questioning. Thank you, and good night"

   The Bar immediately erupted in murmured whispers as people talked to those around them. Nobody noticed a man in a trench coat and wide brimmed hat tilted to cover his face, sneak out the door.

   Fritz Ronfer walked at a brisk pace down the street. There weren't many people out, but he still kept his head down and spoke to no one.

He hadn't reported in to his cell yet. They were likely curious if he had made it out alive. He turned down a back alley that would eventually lead him to the basement of an old hard ware store, where his comrades met. He heard a noise behind him, it sounded like a shoe scuffing against the ground. He whipped his head around to see a man in a trench coat following him at the same speed he was going. Fritz's heart began to race. He didn't stop, and instead kept walking, just slightly faster.

Fritz walked another couple hundred feet. "Was the man still behind him?" he wondered in his head. It would be suspicious is he looked again. The suspense was killing him. He can't be followed to the hide out. He look back again and saw nobody behind him. With a sigh of relief, he turned back around to see three men in trench coats standing in front of him, blocking his way. All three men produced badges from their pockets that had the insignia of The Ministry of Internal Security.

   "Identification card."

Fritz's heart nearly stopped. The identification card he did have was fake. His true card was with his cell members. Fritz's tried to keep his hands from shaking as he pulled his wallet from his pocket. Taking the card from its pocket, he handed it to one of the men. The man studied it for a few seconds, inspecting both sides, before giving his companions a nod.

   "Alright, you're free to go."

Fritz nodded. He put the card back in his wallet, and the wallet back in his pocket. He stood still for a few seconds as the men continued to stare at him. He gave them a nervous nod, and walked past them. He began to have a feeling of relief when he heard the shuffling of clothing and three clicks; the sounds of pistols being cocked. He didn't have time to look behind him before his body was his with a succession of hard blasts.

Fritz collapsed to the ground, laying in a pool of his own blood. His mind was quickly fading, along with his vision. His last thought was of flowing fields of wheat in summer on his family's farm, far from this wretched city.

[Myroria]

"They're shooting Neustrians on sight now," Gothren said to Ralmyn, signalling to the bartender to refill his drink. "One of my employers says that he's heard rumors the king's going to issue a travel advisory to Letonna. Driving down the highway, I saw an army convoy four, five trucks long heading down to Blackwoods Base near the border, each truck filled with soldiers. This isn't some little rebellion over there anymore; it's civil war."

Ralmyn nodded. "I was making a delivery with Dalvus the other day and the Neustrians are looking more and more messy. I think they're about to do something desperate." Gothren looked at Ralmyn, puzzled.

"Making a delivery? Not to the Neustrians?"

"I have to keep my job;" Ralmyn said defensively. "But I took care of it, don't worry. I'm still a Quarrovth man."


A dusty white Earth Rover carrying Ralmyn, with his "Agent Galyn" face on, and Agent Dalvus pulled out of the forest as the logging road it rode on turned back into tar. A black, boxy Novmiri car sat on the side of the highway. Readying himself to get out of the car, Galyn took his keys from his pocket and opened the door.

"You go back to the office, Dalvus," he said through the open door. "I have some business to take care of in town before I head back."

"Alright, see you there, Galyn." Galyn slammed the door and walked to his car, watching the Earth Rover pull onto the highway and drive away, disappearing around a curve. Getting into the driver's seat of his car, Galyn threw it into reverse and swung the front of the car around, driving back down the logging road he just came from. Half an hour later, he came to a clearing, the imprint of the Earth Rover still pressed into the grass. Stepping out of the boxy vehicle and around to the trunk, he opened it with a smirk, took the small portable mortar inside, and set it up near the car.

Walking back to rummage through the glove compartment for his binoculars, he found them after some time and looked across the river to see the Neustrians still inspecting their newest weapon delivery. Kneeling down and making some adjustments to the barrel of the gun before placing a shell in it, he stepped back and triggered the mechanism that sent the shell through the clearing in the canopy with a soft "plunk".

Galyn's smirk quickly turned into a grin as he watched through his binoculars, seeing the shell come down on the other side of the river and blow the rebels to pieces.


"You better have. We can't afford to give the Neustrians any more weapons than we have to," Gothren said. "My employers don't see the big deal with the shoot-to-kill orders but they're not on the ground; it's getting dangerous there now for everyone. I have an associate in Letonna who says he tries to keep going outside at any time of day to a minimum, what with all the gunshots." Gothren grimaced and took another drink of his whisky.

"Well, I'm not delivering anything but I can't say anything for any other agents. Plenty of them are in the king's pocket. If they're not just Eluvatarans." Ralmyn looked behind him as if searching for anyone who might be watching.

[Letonna]

Captain Selvrin sat behind his desk. He was filling out paperwork for the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Usually it's just a few forms a week he had to fill out to notify them of movements and observations of native Neustrians in and around the small city of Ghrel. But the past few weeks, it's been about two hours a day worth of paperwork, as the current political situation has become more unstable. He no longer went on patrols because he was stuck in his office filling out forms and making phone calls and orchestrating his men. He assigned them to five patrols a day now to observe the natives, as well as look across the Tel river to Myroria, and even patrol the streets of Ghrel, about 40 miles from the border.
 
He was assigned to Observation Station 43-C outside the city. It used to be considered a career ender to be stationed here. A boring observation base with only a medium sized garrison. But now, his station, and a lot of the others in western Letonna were alive with activity. Ghrel, like a lot of western Letonna, is a very heavy agricultural region with a large population of Neustrian workers. It was one of the last hold outs during Titus's war of unification back in the 20's and 30's. But like the others it fell eventually due to rather dirty underhanded war tactics.

Although it was now October, his office had no windows, and was rather stuffy. Selvrin reached to turn on a fan on the corner of his desk, but stopped when he heard a bunch of people yelling orders and running past his office. He thought maybe it was a drill for the new arrivals, and ignored it. Another minute went by when another group of people ran past his office, this time with guns and in full combat gear.

His brow wrinkled in confusion. This was suspicious. He got up from his chair and went to the door of his office. He could see down the hall more people running and barking orders. Suddenly, a loud alarm sounded, meaning for all personnel to report to combat readiness.

Selvrin grabbed his pistol and holster, strapped it around his waist, and ran outside. Upon stepping outside, he saw absolute chaos. Stepping a few feet into the sunlight, he was caught aback as an RPG slammed into a vehicle hanger not 30 feet away. Pieces of concrete and steel flew everywhere, and he ducked in the door way. Soldiers were firing towards the southern exit of the building, but instead of advancing towards the attackers, they were losing ground.

He was caught in shock as he saw soldiers falling and retreating to the command center. Dust and smoke covered the base, and he couldn't make out who was attacking. Was it they Myrorians? Neustrians? Austrasians? He ran from cover to cover, usually in the form of burning vehicles and collapsed structures. He saw an intact phone on a wall outside a barracks. He dialed the number to connect to the base commander, but there was no answer. He slammed down the phone when suddenly a bullet ripped through his left thigh.
The Captain collapsed, and put pressure on his leg while grunting and groaning. He called out to some soldiers firing southward nearby, but they couldn't hear him in the noise and confusion. It was of no use anyway, when a few seconds later an RPG slammed into their position, blasting them to vapor and bits. Selvrin continued to lay there and put pressure on his wound. He could feel himself becoming weaker. His men had retreated further back, and couldn't see him in the dust. He could hear new voices approaching him, talking in Neustrian accents. A man, with a Neustrian Resistance flag strapped to his back ran past him at full speed, firing his machine gun from the hip. Soon, others followed, screaming and firing in every direction.
His vision was becoming darker, and his mind cloudy. The last thing he saw was a Neustrian, dressed in civilian clothing, pointing a rifle at him as he lay bloodied on the ground. Then everything went black.




Ulfrum was in a meeting with five of his ministers. They were discussing the economic repercussions of the situation in Letonnasburg, and the nation as a whole. The Minister of the Treasury and Reserves was reading statistics and percentages off a paper when an aid burst into the room. Ulfrum gave him a scowl and said "What?!" He usually insisted his meetings not be disturbed, because he lost his train of thought when his aids bothered him with trivial things.

The aid bowed, and said "My Lord. I have tragic news that requires your immediate attention."

Ulfrum's gritted his teeth.

   "Well?!"

   "Ghrel. It has fallen to a military force. We suspect it to be Neustrians, but with it so close to the border, there is a possibility they could be Myrorian. We have not been able to make contact with military instillations 43-A though D. "

Ulfrum was silent. This was the first time he was in legitimate fear, and his face showed it. He knew there was unrest, but outright war? He never imagined they would have received enough funding and supplies to actually mobilize and do more damage than the occasional terrorist attack.

   "I uhh....erm"

Ulfrum struggled to find words.

   "Sir?" the aid asked.

   "Uhh....order a full military mobilization. Tell all commanders to be on combat alert."

   "Yes my Lord"

The ministers remained in silence, as they too had looks of fear and worry on their face. Ulfrum pinched the bridge of his nose; he developed a migraine. He had no idea how to proceed. This was beyond a legislative problem. This was an uprising. He blamed himself for not standing up to his ministers, and not making more advancements toward their freedoms when he had the chance.

His ministers were whispering amongst themselves while Ulfrum was in his train of thought.

   "I don't know if we can do this alone. Even with House Quarrovth helping us, it may not be enough to quickly crush this uprising. If they manage to capture all the farming provinces, they'll do the exact thing we did to them 35 years ago. They won't need to have a presence in Letonnasburg, they'll just starve us out."

   "I'll see if I can make some phone calls. I have a few contacts in Prydainia and St. Oz. We may even be able to pull some of our forces from Nova Letonna. And if it really comes down to it, we can see if we can plea to Austrasia." The Minister of Foreign Affairs said in a confident voice.

Ulfrum gritted his teeth, leaned back in his chair, and said "Very well."

[Myroria]

LETONNESE EMPIRE TRAVEL ALERT

The Office of Foreign Affairs alerts Myrorian citizens in Letonna to the ongoing tensions within Letonna between Neustrian and Imperial forces. This supersedes the Travel Advisory dated September 18, 1963 and provides updated information on the security situation within Letonna as well as near the border with Myroria.

The Myrorian government currently has no information concerning active armed threats directed specifically against Myrorians, but does advise its citizens that a state of civil war, as defined by the Office's Manual of Foreign Conflict, has been recognized by the Office of Foreign Affairs and Letonna will remain in this state for the foreseeable future.

Emperor Ulfrum has decreed that anyone of more than half Neustrian blood (more than two Neustrian-blood grandparents) residing in Letonnasburg are to be shot on sight. Any Myrorian citizens of Neustrian blood are strongly encouraged to contact the Myrorian Embassy in Letonnasburg, or their local Myrorian Consulate, and arrange safe travel out of the country. A state of emergency, as declared by Emperor Ulfrum, currently exists across the entire Letonnese Empire and the Letonnese military has been deployed in regions across the nation. Regions with both substantial Myrorian population and substantial Letonnese military presence include, but are not limited to:

• Letonnasburg, Letonna
• Ghrel, Letonna
• Ingsfaulm, Letonna

In addition to these regions, there are also several regions in Myroria near the border with Letonna that have been issued a Travel Advisory. The Office of Foreign Affairs, as well as the Office of Internal Defense, assures any Myrorians living in these regions that there is little danger from the war in Letonna, but the Office of Foreign Affairs has chosen to issue this advisory to these regions out of an abundance of caution:

• County Traval, Myroria, including, but not limited to, Traval City, Larochille, New Pelagis, and logging camps in environs near the River Tel
• Eastern County Ivorheart, Myroria, including, but not limited to, Grossmoor and Grossmoor Prison, Troshe, and logging camps in environs near the River Tel

Myrorian citizens considering travelling to Letonna are urged to strongly consider changing plans or otherwise postponing or cancelling their trip. Myrorian citizens currently in Letonna are encouraged to contact their local consulate, or the embassy in Letonnasburg, and arrange safe travel out of the country. For Myrorian citizens who cannot leave Letonna, the Office of Foreign Affairs encourages them to keep their legal visa and passport on their person at all times and avoid demonstrations or gatherings in public - the Myrorian government cannot guarantee the safety of any Myrorian citizen and these measures are to help ensure citizens' safety.

The Myrorian Citizens Service Office of the Myrorian Embassy in Letonnasburg assists Myrorian citizens in Letonna. The Office can help you with passport issuance and renewal, registering a child born abroad, House registration and absentee voting, and provides a certified notary public. The Office also provides emergency services in the event of a disaster or in case of illness, death, arrest, or destitution while in Letonna.

This Travel Alert was issued September 20, 1963.

God save the Empeurer, Peté Tar-Ilium, first of his name!
God save the Myrorian people!

[Letonna]

   "Why there's no god damn circulation in this room I'll never know. Corner cutting by my fathers architects no doubt." Ulfrum wondered as he sat through another meeting with his ministers. They were bickering amongst themselves as usual. All debating what extreme measures to take against Neustrians not proven to be involved in the uprising. "They're more interested in perusing people with possible involvement than actual involvement" he thought.

   "...We can cut off communications to the infected regions. Mail, phone, travel. That could hinder their communications to some cells closer to the capitol. We can even-"

   "That's a horrible idea. What of the military and Letonese in the area? Are we going to throw them to the fire? Leave them in the dark. Minister, you'll make this problem worse." Ulfrum said in a displeased voice.

   "We need to install a military force in all northwestern towns and cities, and enforce the same rules as Letonnasburg. If we can put the Reasonable Warrant and Searching Act in suspension, it can help us bring down more hideouts." The Minister of Internal Affairs said in an inappropriately cheery tone.

   "No no no. You're all too stuck in the past. This isn't my father's Empire anymore. It's mine. There are other ways to win this without terrorizing every house hold and old woman. We live in a changing world. A world where senseless classism and prejudice can't hold up government any longer. It's you and I that brought this war to our back yards. We can win this with more than just guns. We just need a little diplomacy."

   "Do you mean another nation? I've sent diplomats to nations that could possibly support us but we haven't heard anything back." The Minister of Foreign Affairs, Terrin Ver said.

   "No. I mean with them. The Neustrians want something right? They wouldn't be killing civilians and blowing up military installations if they didn't. We need to see if we might be able to contact their leadership, and discuss this like men."

   "What?! We have no idea where even their lower ranking members hide. The Ministry of Intelligence only has a few vague hunches where they might be." Byron Dempfon said angrily.

   "Don't worry Minister, I wasn't going to consult any of you anyway. You all proved your usefulness when Ghrel was assaulted and 300 soldiers died. Sometimes you just have to look for a helping hand from a willing neighbor."

His ministers all stared at him with mixed expressions of annoyance and disapproval. Ulfrum liked when he pushed their buttons. He looked at Terrin Ver.

   "Ver, contact House Quarrovth. Ask them if they might have any leads to who the Neustrians answer to. If their agents are doing the drops to the Neustrians, chances are they might have a lead to who signs the checks."

And with that they dismissed themselves, some grumbling with disapproval. They would likely talk about him behind his back. But that's fine. They always have something they like to complain about. Collectively and individually, none of them had any idea how to win a war. They are used to signing papers and reviewing numbers. If it's anything his father taught him, it was two things. Keep your ministers close, and if it seems like a too radical of an idea, it's probably a good one.

[Myroria]

Gothren looked at his reflection in the shiny brass plate affixed to the side of a high-rise apartment building in north-central Pelagis, the image interrupted by rows of buttons and name cards. Running his hair through his thick grey hair, a mat more than a hairstyle, he pressed the button marked "L. Vrotrith".

"Who is it?" crackled a voice a few seconds later from a speaker next to the brass plate.

"It's G. Quarrith, here for our appointment." There was a short pause before a reply came.

"Come in. I'm 605." the voice said, and the door clicked.

Upon entering the apartment building, Gothren was struck by its austerity; smack in the middle of a Vrotrith neighborhood, the apartments were clearly intended for the House leadership, though House Vrotrith's socialist values precluded there being too much ostentation. In stark opposition to the Quarrovth manors across the river in Fellowmoor, with their pastel walls and wide gardens, the lobby here appeared spacious and painted in a solid cream; the polished marble floor seemed to be the only decoration in the entire place.

Approaching the elevator on the wall directly opposite the entrance, Gothren pressed the button marked "UP" and waited. To his left and right were two long corridors lined with doors, as equally undecorated as the lobby. A few sconces brought light to the corridor, but that was apparently as far House Vrotrith was willing to go to brighten the place up - literally and figuratively. The elevator beeped and Gothren stepped in slowly. Hitting the button marked "6", the doors slowly rumbled shut.

Once the doors reopened, Gothren noticed that the only way this floor could be told apart from any other was a large numeral "6" painted on one wall. Finding his way down the hallway to the room marked "605", he stood in front of the door and checked his watch - 10:57. Looking back up towards the grey door, he knocked three times and the door opened after a time.

"You were able to find the place all right?" asked Lleram Vrotrith, a man of about 65. The most immediately apparent thing about the man was his dress; casual and free of embellishment, he wore a cardigan and oxford shirt and simple pleated pants. His bald head caught the light for a moment as he stepped out of the way to let Gothren in.

"Yes, thank you Lleram." The two men had known each other for several years now, though this was the first time Gothren had actually been to his apartment. A veteran of the Indigenous Wars in Nouvé Resdaynia, he had always been broadly sympathetic to the affairs of House Quarrovth, and had collaborated with the House leadership on numerous efforts to expand welfare for veterans. When Gothren got the word from a spy that House Vrotrith was intimately acquainted with the affairs of the Neustrian rebels, he knew Lleram was the only man he had enough of a rapport with to get information from.

"Can I get you anything?" Lleram asked, shutting the door.

"Oh, it's a little early for me." Gothren replied out of habit, having spent years working with the hard-drinking nobles of House Quarrovth.

"I meant tea, or coffee," Lleram continued with a chuckle.

"Oh, well - " Gothren paused. "Coffee please. Black."

"Of course. I'll be right back. Make yourself at home." Lleram left to go to the kitchen, letting Gothren get a feel of the place. It was more decorated than the communal parts of the building, but not by much. The walls were of course a solid cream, and there were few paintings on the wall - the largest, above the couch, was a picture of a wide, flat savannah, probably of somewhere in the interior of Nouvé Resdaynia. Gothren was caught up in the piece when Lleram reentered with two cups of coffee.

"Oh yes, that's of a particular veldt outside Avestown. It's truly a beautiful continent - I try to get out there and see it every other year." Gothren nodded. Most House Quarrovth nobles had their own houses in Resdaynia that they got out to every winter - usually several times.

"Thank you for the coffee, Lleram."

"Oh, don't mention it, Gothren! It's a pleasure to see you again - it must have been a few months." Lleram said pleasantly, sitting on the modern-looking white leather couch below the painting. Gothren took a seat on a recliner opposite him, careful not to spill his coffee.

"Yes, I believe it has. I wish we had more time to catch up, but I'm afraid I'm here on business."

"Oh, I figured as much. Otherwise I'd have had you meet Fervsea - but I think she went out to pick up some things."

"Oh, it's quite alright. I'm here about the situation in Letonna," Gothren said, adjusting in his seat. The smile faded from Lleram's face.

"A terrible situation over there. Ulfrum is shooting Neustrians on sight, have you heard? Myrorians are fleeing the country in droves. A couple associates of mine are letting some expats stay with them until the situation calms down."

"Yes, I've been following it very - " Gothren paused to find the word. "Feverishly. Though the Neustrians aren't without sin in this situation either," he continued.

"I suppose not," Lleram said. "But they're only trying to gain the rights that the Letonnans took away from them. Same as the Pelagians in '51 - they turn to those methods because there are no other ones. Now I fear Ulfrum might try to exterminate them completely." Gothren again adjusted in the recliner. It felt like there was a loose spring sticking into his back.

"Is House Vrotrith lending help to the Neustrians?" Lleram chuckled and put his coffee on the endtable next to him.

"You Quarrovth men are always right to the point, aren't you?"

"We're soldiers, Lleram." Lleram laughed more heartily.

"I'm a soldier, Gothren. You're not. But I suppose I see where you're coming from. I might have joined Quarrovth, if it wasn't for my last name. Or my brother. I think Rothis would have had my head. We're certainly not funding the Neustrians, if that's what you're asking." Gothren nodded deliberately.

"That's not what my men tell me,"

"Well," Lleram said, jocularly but firmly, "If we're bringing spies up my men have told me you're lending help to the Letonnans. I suppose that's another reason I'dn't've have joined House Quarrovth."

"Listen, Lleram. Ulfrum wants to negotiate. I have it on good authority. But he doesn't know who leads the Neustrians."

"I don't either, Gothren," said Lleram, almost apologetically. "But I'm not entirely sure you're telling the truth about why either. Maybe the Empeurer and the Quarrovth leadership wants him dead." Gothren raised an eyebrow.

"I can assure you the Empeurer does not want the Neustrian leadership dead. But it is a him, you're telling me?" Lleram shook his head and laughed again.

"You're a funny one Gothren. Talk to Rothis. If you are telling the truth he might know more than I. But that's a big if. Rothis doesn't even tell me what's going on most of the time." Gothren smiled and nodded.

"You're always a help, Lleram."

"Anything for you, Gothren. Will you stay for dinner? I think Fervsea is boiling clams."

"I'm sorry, I can't eat shellfish." Lleram frowned. "And I really do have a lot of work."

"Suit yourself, friend. I'm glad I could be of service. But don't tell Rothis I told you all this. He doesn't like my... relationship with House Quarrovth as it stands, let alone if he knew I was interfering in his Letonnan game." Gothren nodded.

"Of course not, friend."