All ready for the war/negotiations which will probably break out. So, a little recap:

The city of Sabryn used to be on the tip of the peninsula, in a good defensible position while providing access to the sea for the trade that the city-state used to depend on. Now in ruins. The rest of the peninsula tended to forest, with a few open plains dotted around the place (such as before the city of Sabryn.)

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The preliminary fleet of Dieman ships, the twin battleships Sorceress and Aurora, plus the dreadnaught Enchantress, all with their full complement of Burnished Dusks and Harlequin Dancers, sped across the sea, heading for the Sabryn Peninsula now looming large on the horizon.

Shortly afterwards, the vessels rode at anchor in a cove some small distance from the ruins of Sabryn, the ash-blackened, tumbled walls and stone-littered plain testimony to the disaster that had befallen the Sabrynese, and the military troops were busy establishing a substantial beachead. Some of the heavy cannons from the Aurora had been unshipped and were now in crude mountings at the head of the beach, and further teams of Dusks were reinforcing the preliminary defensive lines. They were not taking any chances. Disguised Harlequin Dancers were ranging ahead, scouting out the terrain, and still more Dusks were preparing a rudimentary drop area for the airship's forces.

((A Rakarskian expeditionary force was assembled to claim the ruins of Sabryn, consisting of three Ironclad ships, four thousand men, and a large team of civillian workers for reconstruction and study.))

The RNS Giant, Elector and Zhukov approached the ruined area cautiously. Men with telescopes could see a fleet of ships, bearing the insignia from the so called Empire of Diem, and unloading men, as well as digging fortifications.

Commodore Robertson, given a new command after the inconclusive battle of the sea of Zerbia, gave the order to hail them with flags- "Our Compliments from the Rakarskian Navy", and for his gig to be prepared.

Captain Creerson tapped his glass shut decisively and sighed. "Bloody flag signals," he muttered. The ironclads looked menacing, bristling with guns. ((Are they carrying the troops and workers?))

"All hands, prepare for possible combat situation! Alert the shore!" Aboard the crimson vessels of war, crewmembers raced for their posts and heavy bulkheads rolled into place. The heavy guns were brought online, though the gunports remained closed.

"Prepare an ambassador launch," snapped Creerson. "Let's find out what they want."

The crimson vessel sped away, carrying a bright lieutenant in the service under the flag of truce. "Ahoy the ironclads," he boomed, his voice sorcerously augmented. "What are you here for?"

((Yes, they are.))

Commodore Robertson grabbed a speaking trumpet and replied. "We are here to investigate the ruins of the lost Empire of Sabryn." Beneath him, the gig rocked on a wave.

"What a coincidence," called the lieutenant. "So are we. The land has already been claimed by the Empire: Burinberg University is very interested in their writings."

"I am quite sure that the Rakarskian Inquisition has the same interest," the Commodore replied. It had been one of the largest repositories of magical knowledge the world had ever seen, and it would therefore be of great importance if the Inquisition was to continue its battle against the arcane. "Would you let us land and start digging ourselves?"

The lieutenant looked apologetic. "I'm terribly sorry," he said. "I'll have to ask my superiors about that. It's a bit beyond my purview, you understand. If you'd wait here while I go and ask..." he trailed off. "I should probably tell you - this is perhaps the best place to land. The others - what few there are - are...well...a little strange, shall we say."

The lieutenant turned his launch about and skimmed off.

Commodore Robertson nodded and waited patiently. Meanwhile, the guns of the Ironclads were prepared, and the troops on board were ordered to stand to.

Creerson tapped his chin absently as he regarded the lieutenant in front of him. "We'll stall them for as long as we can," he decided. "And we will hope that it is long enough for the Imperious to arrive." He paused. "Tell the Dusks to move their diggings closer to the city, and to start looking for vital and easily-defensible positions."

--------------------------------

Creerson kept his glass aimed at the sky as the morning wore on. The tension between the two groups of ships was almost palpable, and he found his mouth dry with anticipation.

There, on the horizon, a small speck, but getting larger rapidly. The DAS Imperious, at last.

"Ready the launch," he commanded. "But wait until the Imperious is closer - and they've seen her. Let's see how they react with her bearing down."

"Vessel sighted, comrade Commodore," a midshipman said excitedly, eye staring through telescope. "Looks like a Diem craft."

Commodore Robertson thought for a moment. The enemy had more vessels than him, and had emplaced guns on the shore. Attempting a landing, therefore, would be difficult. Attempting battle would be similarly difficult. He could win, because his men and ships were good, but he would lose a lot of men.

"Send in the archaeologists and whatnot," he ordered. "Under a flag of truce, at their landing points. In rowing boats. Sharply now, comrades!"

The boats were lowered, and the civillians, with a minimal guard, set out to dry land.

Through the forest came a small company of Kaleon soldiers consisting of three-hundred pikemen, ninety-archers, twelve ballistae, four Rakarskian cannons, and forty mages. Behind them came a platoon of seventy heavy calvary. At their bear was a mounted and ornate lieutenant, who was a bit baffled at the sudden ironclad appearance, but led his troops out the edge of the woods and toward the coast.

((In the woods is a Kaleon fortress of about one-thousand more soldiers and a two-hundred civilians and one-hundred mages.))

"Rakarskian longboats inbound," a lookout yelled. "Under a truce flag!"

"All right, let them in," grumbled Creerson. "How's that airship doing?"

"We've cleared a parade space," replied the man. "They're staring to dump cargo now, and the troops and engineers are coming down the lines." He paused. "The Viscount Lucina and Magus-General Pyroborea are waiting on the shore."

Creerson blanced. "Pyroborea? Here?"

"Yes, sir."

"KiiAmat help us, we're dead," he muttered. "All right, I'll go and see them. Olkar, keep an eye on those Rakarskian ironclads."

---------------------------------

"Captain Creerson reporting, sir!" he snapped off a textbook salute to Lucina and Pyroborea. The Magus-General was not tall, nor was she bulky with muscle. She was wiry, tense, her strength coiled and waiting to strike, but the most terrifying thing about her was her eyes - they burned with the brilliant hard flame of madness.

"At ease, captain," she commanded lazily. "Now, whose are those iron ships out there? They don't look friendly to me."

" A nation known as Rakarskia, sir. They have a colony a little further north. They don't like magic in any form, sir, and they've just sent some archaeologists and civilians over."

"Capabilities?"

"They're excellent soldiers, ma'am, and their ships appear to be fairly advanced - about on a par with a late-iteration Pyros-class."

"Thank you, captain. Now, I want you to liaise with the quartermaster. We've got quite a lot of ordnance to help secure this area, and around five thousand troops available immediately, with another five on the way - though it'll take them about a week to arrive." She clapped her hands briskly. "We've seen the city - or what's left of it - from the air, and done a thorough survey of the remaining buildings. We brought along a military architect from Trifinis and Linebacher to help plan our defensive strategy. Now, the grand plan, as I understand it, is to establish a star fortress on the city ruins and undertake excavations and transport in areas we control. For now, though, we need to secure this landing point. I suggest a ring of pyroil projectors and imperial cannons around the bay, with standard earthworks to deflect incoming fire. Clear? Good, now get to it."

Creerson saluted. "And the Rakarskians?"

Pyroborea turned to Lucina. "Can I burn them?"

"No, my lady, you cannot. It would cause an...incident that we should try to avoid for as long as possible. I recommend we meet with the incoming longboats. No harm in being gracious."

Lucina and Pyroborea walked to the beach, the surf lapping at their boots, as they waited for the longboats to arrive.

The first boat to disembark proved to contain the Inquisitor in charge of the Rakarskian archaeological digs and other such activities. He proved to be a short, balding man with an eye patch, and looked as ugly as sin and as scarred as a cannon barrel. He proved to be very similar to his appearance in terms of manners.

"I am Inquisitor Krensky," he spat through several knocked out teeth in a thick Morlingrad accent. He produced a pipe and tobacco from a pocket in his greatcoat, and lit up with enthusiasm.

Lucina tried not to look appalled as the Rakarskian disregarded manners and lit some ghastly pipe. His voice was thick and buzzing, too. The Magus-General caught his look, though, and moved to take command of the situation.

"Magus-General Pyroborea. Lady Pyroborea to you, Inquisitor. I won't have any of this 'comrade' nonsense. It's m'lady, Lady Pyroborea, or Magus-General. Mind if I light up too? No, didn't think so." She produced a slender cigar and lit it with a burst of flames from her finger which, far from fading after she had lit her cigar, grew longer and longer until she wielded a long lash of solar flames. "Now, what do you want?" she asked, blowing a cloud of fumes into Krensky's face, filling the air with the scent of autumn bonfires.

Two calvarymen were sent forward from the Kaleon troupe, riding fast for where the Rakarskians had landed.

A Harlequin spotter observed the two cavalrymen as they crashed through the forest and rode out across the plain. Orders were relayed, and a squadron of Burnished Dusks marched out to meet them.

"Halt!" they boomed cheerfully, their lances and armour glowing in the sunlight. "This area has been claimed as a protectorate by the Glorious Empire of Diem! Please state your business!"

((They would've spotted the rest of the company as well, as they are already out of the woods. The two soldiers were sent forth as messengers.))

"Our business is investigating visitors to land already claimed by the Kingdom of Kaleo. What is your purpose here?" One of them asked back.

Inquisitor Krensky looked supremely un peturbed by the magical lights display. "We are here, comrade Pyborea, to have a good look round the ruins of Sabryn," he said matter of factly, returning the complement with an extremely pungent smoke ring. "And who are those men over there?" He pointed at the Kaleon cavalrymen.

Pyroborea inhaled deeply, and a wide grin spread across her face. "Very nice," she complimented him, and then her face hardened. She stepped close to him, and stared into his eyes. "I told you - it's Pyroborea, m'lady, or Magus-General. Not comrade anything. Call me that again and I'll break your neck." She then turned to look at the Kaleons. "Not a clue about them, by the by," she said, as if nothing untoward had come between them. "We dispatched a squad to go and ask, actually."

Lucina stepped forwards hurriedly as Pyroborea started to stride off. "Lady Pyroborea holds Views on calling people 'comrade.' It's...historical, Inquisitor. We'll be happy to provide your diggers with an escort, by the way. How many would we be talking here?"

"We have two hundred and thirty various people here," Krensky said. "Diggers, historians, cartographers, surveyors." He took another puff on his pipe. "And a half company of rifles to protect them. Fourty nine men."

Lucina looked relieved. "Oh, that's not too bad. I say, do you think your people would be averse to working with our people? No sense in both lots of us digging seperately, is there? And, of course, there is greater security in numbers - we will of course help with the guarding of the teams, which, if the rumours of orcs in the area are true, we'll need."

((Waiting for a response to the Kaleon messengers.))

((Bugger. My fault, that. Didn't notice.))

"Excavations," replied the Dusks' captain. "Our Emperor has commanded that the knowledge this place once held should not be allowed to fall to the dust and the worms. We are to extract books, scrolls, information recording devices, and so on for transport, archiving and further research and study at Burinberg University. Once that job has been finished, and indeed while that job is going on, our orders are to establish a primary fortress and trading post - this place being far more convenient for many other nations, we have heard."

"We have a small collection of their tomes for spells we hadn't created ourselves. I hear we also have a gallery of their art as well as several outposts and keeps across the peninsula." The messenger replied. He also made sure to omit that they only had a handful of outposts and they were rather small garrisons of barely twenty or so men, barely keeping the area secure of orcs.

"There's a tip of the peninsula east of here of which we are setting up a fishing and trading port." The other one added, looking back to check the slow progress of the approaching Kaleons.

"Indeed? I believe you had better come and meet our commanders. Unless you are waiting for superiors of your own?" He'd caught the gleam off one of the approaching Kaleon soldiers' weapons.

"Indeed so," the Inquisitor said. "Bastards." He spat on the ground.

A small vessel cloaked in illusion raced towards the peninsula, it's crew ever watchful of the beach even though they could not be seen.

The ship beached itself in the sand and offloaded seven men before being pushed back into the sea. The men quickly made their way to a nearby outcropping of rocks and surveyed the area.

"I don't see anything," One of them said.

"Nor do I." another said.

"That's good, then hopefully no one saw us come ashore," A third said, "Jack, go scout out ahead of us."

The first man nodded then creeped along, heading inland.

The Rakarskian Rifle Captain, a man called Stretford, was surveying the area with a telescope. He stopped moving the lens around as he saw movement. He called over a soldier, who offered his shoulder to rest the glass on.

"D'you see that, comrade?" he muttered. "Of course not. You don't have a glass, and you ain't got the years to earn one." He called over the Inquisitor. "There's someone creeping around over there. Near those damned rocks."

Five men were sent to investigate, rifles ready.

((It could be said that this forum, the first great experiment, has finally ended. We've had some good times, and we've had the Zerbian-Rakarskian War, which I believe is the longest single engagement in the 21st century. And it has spawned some good things. I shall call upon MW to make a final farewell post...))

((I wouldn't say it's dead, I've just had no Internet connection for nearly a week due to neighbors' incompetence at landscaping.))

"There appears to be a fourth party in this." One of the Kaleon messengers commented to the Harlequin, gesturing at the ones who had just landed near some rocks. "And talented in magic as well, I fear what the Rakarskians may do."

"This isn't good. They can somehow see us, I think." The first said.

"Shut up and get down." The third ordered, and they all dropped down and hide among the rocks, still cloaking themselves in illusion.

The Harlequin frowned and took out a small glass. "You could be right there, sir," he observed, and quickly scribbled a note. "Hopefully we can get them to drop their illusions before the Rakarskians fill them full of bullets or whatever it is they do to mages."

A further contingent of Dusks were sent out to the approximate area of the new arrivals, while the Harlequin led the Kaleons to Lucina and Magus-General Pyroborea in the controlled chaos that was the preliminary border fort of the Dieman presence on the peninsula.

Six horsemen from the Kaleon contingent came forward and joined the two scouts in following the Harlequin. In the party was the infantry commander, Evan, calvary Captain Archan, and a mage to link communication with Lieutenant Leon, who was back leading the company forward.

Lady Pyroborea turned suddenly as the Harlequin and the Kaleons approached. "Yes? What do you want?"

The Harlequin stood firm under her mad gaze. "They are called Kaleons, sir. This is Commander Evan," he said, indicating the man. "And this is Captain Archan. They were here before us, apparently."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?" She turned to the Kaleons and gave them the full benefit of her diamond-hard mad stare. "Magus-General Pyroborea, gentlemen. You have laid a prior claim to this land? How many men do you have?" Her fingers twitched.

"We currently have two major fortresses with garrisons of a small battalion each. Across the peninsula we have another company of soldiers scattered in keeps along a path to where our third fortress is being built, along with a harbor east of here." Archan answered the woman, not at all intimidated, while the infantry commander stood firm beside him. They, along with their personal bodyguards and the mage dismounted from their horses and stood at-attention.

The mage put his hands together in various configurations before releasing a small green orb from his hand, floating it before him. It was roughly two-feet in diameter, and in it could be seen Lieutenant Leon's face. "Did you have plans to claim this land?" Leon spoke through the orb. He seemed a rugged, middle-aged man. One who knew how to lead and be respected without being feared. He had his infamous stone-cold orbs of eyes upon Lady Pyroborea, awaiting a response.

“We have indeed laid claim to this area, yes. Burinberg wants the old city’s knowledge, and the merchants want a good trading post.” She shrugged. “The military gets sent in to make sure they get what they want." She gazed calmly at the green orb. "And you would be?"

"Lieutenant Leon, ranking CO of the company of soldiers approaching your position." Leon replied before adding. "We have much of the old artifacts of Sarbryn in our possession. What we didn't collect were tomes for spells we already had ourselves, and about half the art to keep the old ruins in-tact for visiting. Now, I must request that the majority of your soldiers and combat mages removed off these lands. Some may stay with the civilians to protect from the orcs that are common in the area. My superiors are allowing your nation to continue its research, but since you are on OUR lands, that the military presence be reduced."

"My answer is no." Pyroborea half-turned. "Lucina!" she bellowed. In the distance, he winced at the ringing shout and strode forwards. "Lucina's might be somewhat different. Lucina, Lieutenant Leon. Leon, Viscount Lucina. He says the land is owned by Kaleo and we're to reduce our military numbers."

"Charmed, I'm sure. Most of the military forces we have here are the crew of the airship, Lieutenant. This is shore leave. I'm sure you understand. Might I enquire what you using this land for? It's not being farmed, and our scouts have found little sign of human habitation - save for some of your fortresses."

"It is an area that will develop once our harbor is finished. It is the beginning of a long plan for this region." The lieutenant responded. "We understand the suddenness of the demand, and you have been given three days before your excess soldiers must be removed."

"Interesting. I am empowered to offer purchase of this land, or some portion of it, to any prior claimants. I would ask that my request of purchase be forwarded to your superiors in government at the earliest possible juncture. I would also ask, sir: what, to you, is an excess of soldiery?"

"They are hearing it as we speak, through another orb of communication." Leon answered, and after a few moments of silence from him he spoke again. "They will allow a small part of this land adjacent to the ruins to be bought, but the ruins themselves will remain in our territory."

"That is acceptable, for now. What sort of price would you be looking for, what area of land? And what of Sarbryn's libraries, her legions of magic tomes, her unexcavated buildings? Might we unearth those, at least, in the ruins, and send them back to Burinberg, where they will see use as they were meant to?"

"A fair amount of the beach of which you landed here, and some coast leading up to the Sarbryn ruins. And the only unearthed ruins were the smaller homes and most of the walls that we knew were there and decided not to unearth before excavating the libraries and galleries Sarbryn had. We have excavated all the libraries, academies, and most of the government buildings. On their way now is another group of scholars and miners coming to excavate some newly-found noble houses near the center of the city. As far as exportation goes, we shall see." Lieutenant Leon answered, setting up a camp with his troops on the edge of the ruins.

"Could we negotiate for some of the interior land also? We would need farmland to sustain ourselves. Might we ask what you are using the tomes for? You said yourself you didn't take all of them. And again - what price are we talking, here?"

"That would depend upon your currency, moreover the exchange rate. Do you have a coin or something of the sorts that you may show my mage?" The Lieutenant asked in reply.

Lucina clapped his hands. Shortly, a small chest was brought forward and opened. Large gold coins shimmered in the light, and Lucina held one up. “This is our major currency,” he said. “An imperial. And your own?”

((An imperial is a 10g 23-karat gold coin.))

The mage withdrew from his pocket a handful of their coins, in solid gold. (in size, it's equal to the halfdollar, but probably 2-3x thicker). "I would guess roughly equal." The mage reasoned.

Lucina took one of the coins and looked at it carefully. "Possibly. Might I ask what your exchange rate is in Islander crowns?"

"Generally eight of theirs for one of ours." The mage responded.

"Ah. I think I shall prevail upon the good offices of the Islanders and offer you payment in Islander crowns, then," he said happily. "Would that be satisfactory?"

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