Earth - Atlantic Ocean - Special Administrative Zone under requisition by the United Nations Science Advisory - Institute of Anomalous Studies (IAS) Pilot Research Facility Codena: ATLANTIS II. ECS Holding Facility. Local Ti: 2357 Hours.
Captain Calico Li
“Is that a fucking dragon?!”
I was unsure who exactly said that.
But that just about sumd up the sentints of the room in one, admittedly blunt, exclamation.
Two glowing purple eyes regarded the Cadet’s helm from a gnarly, scaled, and leathery snout. Crystals of all types — jagged, irregular, shattered and cracked — jutted from its purple-hued hide in seemingly random clusters, completing that unmistakable visage of a western fantasy dragon; body, wings, four legs, and tail in full.
There was no point for academic euphemisms here.
‘Dragon’ was just about the most apt descriptor, if not the only term you could use in describing it.
I looked around the room, caught in the grip of history, at stunned faces and dumbfounded expressions, all having either not yet registered or refusing to acknowledge both the creature and its reality-defining implications.
Everything, every single mont over the past few decades, seed to have led up to this mont.
First contact.
Live first contact, with a visual feed.
And with a fucking dragon at that.
This wasn’t your archetypal spec-evo hexapod or so planetary fungal hivemind.
This was as far removed from any hard science fiction trope as was humanly possible.
In fact, we were now so far into the realm of science fiction that we circled around and landed firmly into the realm of fantasy.
I didn't want to believe it.
Nobody did.
But it was there all the sa.
“Sig-Int.” I blurted out, turning and then locking eyes with the on-duty signals intelligence officer. “Confirm visual feed authenticity.”
“Visual feed authenticity confird, sir.” The man acknowledged after only a second’s delay, causing the otherwise shocked crowd to begin the expected whispers and murmurs, all of which were soon shot down by a harsh shushing courtesy of Weir.
I turned to Ivo, urging him on, given that this whole developnt spawned from his insistence.
Dr. Ivo kis
I was never one to mince words.
Ever.
But in this instance… the formulation of even the most basic sentences eluded .
“I… Cade- mm… tch…”
All pretenses of knowing, and all advancents made in the field of theoretical xenobiology — the speculation, the proposed models, the literal sea of hypotheses — imdiately died at the panning of that cara.
Just one fra from this simple call would co to redefine an entire field — no — several, tens, even hundreds more niche disciplines.
But be that as it may, now was not the ti for introspection.
This was a ti for pertinent points of clarification.
I cleared my throat. “Ahem.”
Then, I began my five-point questionnaire.
“This dragon—”
“Matriarch Kaelthyr.” The Cadet corrected.
“Anded. Is Matriarch Kaelthyr — by her efforts alone — responsible for the successful initiation, discovery, and handshake, predicating a closed single-channel exoreality entanglent episode?”
“Yes.”
My eyes glanced at the live data feeds, or more specifically, at the pertinent data being fed to on this particular subject matter.
“Using exclusively innate properties?”
“Correct.”
“Understood.” I nodded in acknowledgent.
There wasn’t more to be said. At least, nothing that wouldn’t be swept away in the rapids of the Cadet’s catastrophic announcents.
I just needed to ensure the waters weren’t being siphoned or poisoned, for our sakes.
“Current data concurs with the Cadet’s qualitative assessnts.” I turned to address both the Director and Captain. “Though that is the extent of my objective analysis. There is still the matter of this third party’s motiv—”
“I appreciate your concerns, Dr. kis. However, OPSEC is the domain of Command.” The Cadet interjected with a distressing bluntness. “Captain Li, Director Weir. Pilot II Mission Operator formally discloses the ergency use of a third-party agent in the facilitation of this Unscheduled Exoreality Entanglent episode, and all signal transfers henceforth.”
“Acknowledged.” Ca both Weir and Li’s synchronized responses, as Emma continued unabated.
“Mission Operator further acknowledges the risks associated with the use of a third-party communications facilitator. Thus, Pilot II formally invokes General Order 37-a. Does Command acknowledge?”
My eyes narrowed at the automatic prompting of my VI as it pulled up the precise article and its associated jargon.
GO-37-a: The imdiate reporting of any confird existential threat to the Greater United Nations, without contextual diation, where delay — by action or inaction — risks the encroachnt of the GUN’s territorial integrity or political sovereignty.
“Command acknowledges field invocation of GO-37a.” Calico nodded succinctly before the floor seamlessly shifted back to Weir.
“Civil Command acknowledges.” The Director responded succinctly, as the tag-teaming continued through to a visibly impatient Calico.
His nerves, his concerns, clearly rising the mont his eyes landed on the sa milestone event we all observed, as highlighted in the Cadet’s first-week reports; a fact that was becoming increasingly apparent the more ti his eyes lingered on the shared virtual workspace.
“Can you confirm that this entanglent episode is stable, Cadet?” He hurriedly asked.
Following which, and after a brief vocal interaction between the Cadet and the dragon, did she finally confirm. “Yes. She says we have… at least a few hours.”
A collective sigh of relief echoed amongst not just the eager pair but the entire room, while I stood by patiently, observing the ebb and flow of data transfer while coordinating with the silent heroes of this operation.
“Alright. Then let’s get into this existential threat. Full Action Report. Critical Events, Milestones, Principal Findings. Let’s start with the gross infringent of your diplomatic pouch, and—”
Calico paused uncharacteristically, his eyes growing wide, with Weir’s expression soon coming to match his in incredulity. Their collective gazes were locked on a particular section of the annotated report, one detailing the events of the ECS’ self-destruction… and a laundry list of diplomatic infractions longer than the event tiline itself.
“—detention of a diplomatic envoy, coercive manipulation under duress, abuse of authority, abuse of institutional authority, diplomatic and political overreach, conspiracy and attempt to aims of diplomatic and political subterfuge by forceful conversion of allegiances, physical assault, obstruction of official functions, reckless endangernt, and attempted homicide.”
The room went silent once more, as all eyes landed on Emma’s growing features of discomfort.
“The offending party in question is a mber of faculty, and a self-reported ‘mber of the privy council’ — Professor Mal’tory.”
Thalmin
The distances involved and the foreign nature of Emma’s parlay into the sea of taint should’ve ant that my participation in this entire endeavor was a foregone point.
I could not cross into the otherwise miasmic aura that had enveloped the cave’s epicenter.
The languages involved and the ans of communication should have naturally kept my ddling in this rare line of unsanctioned status communicatia to an absolute zero.
However… this wasn’t at all the case.
If anything, Emma had ensured that both Kaelthyr and I were kept in this otherwise open loop, courtesy of the booming acoustics of her armor.
…
Though that by no ans ant that all was truly transparent, a barrier attributable to no malice of her own, but owing entirely to the fault of her nature.
A nature that I had predicted, but never truly fathod the implications of.
“A society of scholars.”
My prophetic words from weeks passed rang louder now than ever, the candid observation made in jest and passing observation manifesting in a form I never could have expected.
It was as if I was hearing a completely different person from the onset. Manifesting into existence a bastardized dialect of High Nexian that felt eerily artificial, entirely rehearsed — and given the nature of that initial back and forth… that assumption probably held more water than not.
Each interaction felt lifted from the pages of a ledger, every challenge and call to action — another test of rote dictation.
And yet, throughout it all, one of the voices she held a martial deference to — this ‘Captain Li’ — was undeniably calling upon the sa principles of military discipline I was accustod to.
I could hear the underlying discipline of the warrior.
And yet… all that was spoken were the words of scholars and bureaucrats.
It was… bizarre. An entirely foreign experience.
A military, a force as impressive as Earthrealm’s, couldn’t possibly be staffed and filled with bookish n and cerebral scholars, could it?
…
Moreover, now that Emma was starting to recount her trials and tribulations with Mal’tory, the presence of another voice, an older woman, began perplexing .
Her ranks, indeed the rank of the studiously standoffish man prior, weren’t martial in nature.
They held the status of scholars.
Yet one of them, this older woman, seed to command the greatest respect.
I could have sowhat understood if this were a monarchy. I could have accepted the logic at play if she had so form of noble blood, but was otherwise spared the life and titles of the blade.
Many adjacent realms had placed re blood over actual martial experience, allowing paper marshals and parade generals into command. It was common, almost frustratingly so.
But this wasn’t such a case.
This woman and the man prior were re scholars, with no other titles or blood to back their authority.
They were civilians.
And yet they held authority over those who swore the oath to the blade?
Preposterous.
However, as quickly as that thought manifested, it found itself dying at the foot of self-directed sha.
Why was I reacting so viscerally? Had Emma not made this known ti and ti again? The anomalous and almost fantastical notion of a classless society?
How was it then that I found myself instinctively rejecting that notion at the very first instance it was on display?
Perhaps I was more Nexian than I thought.
No.
That wasn’t at all the case.
Perhaps… the issue was simply in how wrong it felt. How jarring it must be for warriors of the blade to pay deference to those outside of its oaths.
Scholars as they were, they weren’t beholden to the sa expectations, truths, and brotherhood. And while wisdom had its place, demanding respect in its own right, such wisdom could not command authority over those in service of a wildly different pursuit.
…
And yet here this ‘Weir’ stood. Higher, taller, and ‘directing’ the whims of both martial and civil paths.
As incredulous as I was, I could not deny the reality of what faced .
What’s more, if I allowed myself a mont of contemplation, I began to understand the thod amidst the madness.
These scholars — if I were to press the analogy — were not unlike their military counterparts. If anything, they deserved their authority far more than any royal-appointed, lacquered commander did. Because as with the military, scholarly endeavors demanded rit above all. rit to rise through the ranks, rit to prove one’s capacity, and rit to serve a greater role and responsibility.
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I could see it.
Especially now, as this ‘Weir’ demonstrated the makings of a leader, ironically far more noble in ideal than most nobles I’ve t. In spite of the stakes, stresses, and what was clearly an unprecedented circumstance, she hadn’t once raised her voice, placed herself over the task at hand, and most interestingly — even gave otherwise precious ti for Emma to tackle these more difficult topics at her own pace.
One could mistake it for a softness unbecoming of a leader.
Uncle certainly would.
But perhaps there was so rit to this foreign thod.
Dr. Laura Weir
Outrage didn’t cut it.
Indignancy was a word far too light for this.
Offense, too, was far too bland of a concept to encapsulate just half of the transgressions Emma had described.
And yet… we were only halfway through her accounts.
At which point, we once more took a step back from the anecdotal and tactical, to the doctrinal and strategic.
“The long and short of it, Director, is that the Nexus is not just diatrically opposed to our existence; there simply exists no room in their worldview for us to even fit. The basic crux of their state-enforced dogma, the very thing on which their interpretation of biology is based on, is what we fundantally lack — mana. To put it simply, they see life erging without ‘mana’ as inconceivable. It stands in defiance of this fundantal assumption. We, by our very existence — even discounting for a mont our culture, society, history, and everything else — are a threat to this universal axiom. And the Nexus… they don’t just tolerate or ignore what is so obviously antithetical to their logic. They act on it, bending the narrative to their whims, regardless of if it’s just a simple book burning, or the eradication of entire peoples.”
That latter line sent a chill down my spine, a coldness descending upon and forcing my visage to visibly flinch.
But I couldn’t allow reflexive reactions and heated emotions to color the mont.
Now was the ti for us to play our part. It was the only respectful thing to do, to honor and reciprocate the dutiful actions of our agent in the field.
This naturally ant that I wouldn’t needlessly press for the Cadet to carry the proof of burden, on top of everything else.
After all, the annotated reports and VIs were quick to bring up evidence to these ends without much prompting. This should be enough to corroborate—
“What your young matriarch says is true, Elder Matriarch…” Another voice suddenly and rather unexpectedly entered the fray. Though it was spoken, rather unnervingly, without the slightest of movents from its own lips.
“Matriarch Kaelthyr, I politely ask that you let finish first before—”
“Can I not speak for your claims, young matriarch? ” The dragon cut Emma off before she could continue.
Following which, I intervened.
“With respect and mutual understanding, Matriarch Kaelthyr, I will be willing to hear an independent testimony before I proceed with the rest of the Cadet’s debrief.” I offered, playing off what was clearly a demanding personality. Though one that we currently relied on for this open channel of communication.
“With respect and great pleasure, Elder Matriarch.” The dragon began with a raspy, uncomfortably sickening undertone, one that Emma’s EVI translated to a disturbing degree of… ‘authenticity.’ “My kind have seen entities that conquer through fire, and powers that conquer through decay. The Crownlands have chosen a third path. They conquer by permanence. They consu, eat, digest, and convert all until reality is their domain. They respect naught but the will of the false god. They entertain his whims in perpetuity, dressing an ossified regi in silken robes. They are not a blight nor a cancer, for these revel in expansion and infinite corruption. Yet they expand all the sa, ossifying instead of corrupting, crystallizing instead of mutating, until all that remains is a chamber of infinite echoes. Repeating the sa songs, playing the sa tune, waltzing that infinite waltz into what they hope to be eternity.”
The dragon finally paused her relentless assaults, her voice croaking, breaking, and even outright shredding at certain points. Finally, and with a pointed glare at Emma’s helt, using her as an avatar of our rapport, she spoke with a warning so visceral it shook mories of distant dreams back into waking mory. “Thisis what now threatens your halls, matriarchs of the void.Thisis what stands at the foot of your gates. Do with this knowledge as you will. I will allow your envoy to continue unabated.”
“Thank you, Matriarch Kaelthyr.” I acknowledged, and with that acknowledgent, I bottled within the warnings of those on the station and my own father. The Nexus… from the word of one of its own denizens, was the greatest threat to any independent sapient civilization by its very existence. This sentint was carried through to each and every one of Emma’s own threat assessnts.
Though… I could not discount the possibility of anecdotal bias, as I quickly returned the floor to Emma.
“She doesn’t say it outright.” Emma began through a temporarily muted mic. “But it is my working theory that the Nexus eradicated dragonkind, ma’am.” The Cadet spoke with such frankness and bluntness that it stopped everyone present in their tracks. “The prevailing narrative is that dragons are non-sapient animals. This notion is so prevalent that none have challenged this, not even my most ardent of rebellious allies. It implies a horrifying reality — that the Nexus was so thorough in their eradication of an entire civilization and its species, that their false narrative won out as unquestionable fact. What makes this worse is that if my intel holds weight, I have reason to believe that the dragons were, at one point, one of the most powerful players in the Nexus. And yet they too were so thoroughly reduced that the mory of their existence as sapients was erased.” The Cadet paused, taking a deep breath in the process. “This is the sort of polity we are up against, Director. And it’s existed and maintained this… ssed up status quo for longer than recorded history.”
It was my turn to take a deep breath as I steadied myself, turning to the Captain, who urged to continue.
To which I did, circling back to avoid hitting the anecdotal, even if the dragon had pushed the narrative back towards that mindset.
“Back to your assessnts, Cadet.” I began. “Modified New Oslo Criteria is a D-10. Do you still stand by that?”
“Yes. But that’s only because they haven’t fulfilled the frankly obtuse criterion to earn an E-range categorization — a direct infringent of local sovereignty. With all due respect, I’d like to adhere to the Revised New Frankfurt Criteria, as much as it’s not the standard text that the SocSci departnt likes to adhere to.”
“Negative on that, Cadet.” I countered, garnering a perplexed look from Emma, before I just as quickly transitioned into my ultimate ‘endga.’ “We’re doing the Parson’s Exo-State Risk Index.”
Emma’s eyes widened before she nodded in understanding.
At which point, both education and training kicked in like muscle mory.
“Cat I, Ideological Compromise and Compatibility?” I began.
“I refer to my earlier sentints, Director. They’re fundantally and diatrically opposed to our existence. But if I were to get into the minutiae of things? The Nexus is a mirror inverse to our values. Economic and political control go hand in hand. I.e., they've managed to entrench not just political legitimacy into the frawork of their legal and social systems, but they’ve also managed to turn that entrenchnt into sothing systemically practical. The very economic backbone of their society relies on the inherent abilities found exclusively in the nobility. They’ve built their infrastructure — primary, secondary, tertiary, and even quaternary industries — on this divergent path towards technology. So instead of simply holding the ans of production on paper and through capital, they quite literally are the ans. Society, advanced society, starts and ends at the hands of those in power. Suffice it to say, they’ll find our democratization of science, tech, and industry to be… well, incompatible.”
“Category I is a 1, then.”
“Correct, Director.”
I nodded, moving on just as swiftly. “Cat II, Ideological Rigidity?”
“I defer to Matriarch Kaelthyr and my own reports. The Nexus is built on rigidity. Status Eternia, His Eternal Majesty, and so on and so forth — all aspects of an unassailable ideology that cherishes permanence in perpetuity.” The Cadet paused before letting out a dark chuckle. “Refer to Case Study Files 4 and 17. Ilunor Rularia and Auris Ping, respectively. You’ll have a new appreciation for the word Ideological Rigidity.”
“Category II, 1.” I surmised plainly, garnering a nod from the Cadet. “Right then, Cat III, Negotiability."
The Cadet paused, as if expecting to fill in the blanks.
Which I did.
“That’s a 1.” I stated plainly. “Once the mutual sanctity of diplomatic norms is trampled, there exists no room for good-faith discussions and negotiations. At least, not within statistical significance. On that note, I’ll mark Cat IV as 1 as well. Hostile intent is… a given.” I announced with a sigh, garnering yet another nod from the cadet.
“Finally… and perhaps the most decisive, Cat V. Trigger Sensitivity.” I leveled my eyes on the Cadet. “What’s the likelihood of escalation from your observations thus far?”
“I want to say that the question doesn’t even apply, Director. Since the Nexians are so proactive on escalating things on their own accord.” The Cadet spoke darkly. “But that’s not professional nor fair. So I digress. All I’ve observed thus far are individual actors, acting outside or tangential to the machinations of the greater state. But from historical records? From what I’ve gathered using tertiary sources? They seem to escalate things the mont you infringe on their chanisms of control or ideological axioms. Though… they do seem sowhat tolerant of client state dostic politics, to an extent. So it might be fair to mark this as a 3 or 4, Director.”
“Understood.” I nodded once more before turning back towards the Captain.
Captain Calico Li
Intent was the foundation of all action, and it was pertinent it was addressed right off the bat.
However, quick to follow were the practical considerations stemming from intent.
And I was eager to take a deep dive into what the Cadet had to offer.
My eyes had been darting across my little corner of AR space, drifting from point to point across the invisible workstation projected across my glasses.
My HUD was peppered with tactical assessnt reports, unconventional weapons tech, and a myriad of big bold headers surrounding the Nexus’ strategic capabilities.
Suffice it to say, these were the topics that needed to be knocked out first and foremost.
Lest we talk about squad tactics when KKWs were on the table.
“Emma?”
“Yes, Captain Li.”
“I’ve been combing over your strategic threat analysis, and suffice it to say, it’s worrying. Not just because of the Nexus’ capabilities, but how vague those capabilities are.” I began simply and without judgent. “I understand it’s still early into your mission, and to get intel on strategic threat capacities is a hard enough task as is, so I comnd you on what you’ve gotten so far.”
“Thank you, sir.” The Cadet nodded.
“But I need to know… precisely how credible do you think these weapons are?” I asked, as I began flipping through the virtual report. “City-killers, continent-busters, and even… bag of holding bombs?"
“Correct, sir.” The Cadet announced so confidently that the ludicrousness of the concept suddenly felt all too real.
“Is this… exactly what it sounds like?”
“It surprisingly is, sir.”
I let out a sharp exhale. “So it’s a dinsional criticality event-causing device, or a sort of singularity bomb, a—”
SIGH
“It’s a Localized Topological Collapse Device.” Dr. kis interjected with a frustrated vigor. “Two hypothetical portal ‘singularities’ inhabiting the sa space, causing a rapid but localized destabilization of its imdiate surroundings, proportional to the presence of Atypical Exoreality Radiation, and whatever else ridiculousness these ‘mages’ have co up with to modify the initial properties of these ‘bags.’”
“Thank you, Doctor.” I acknowledged the man’s contributions with a respectful nod, but not before regarding the attached dossier profile image of a strange blue kobold that was ostensibly the primary source for this particular piece of intel.
“I trust that it’s real, sir.” Ca Emma’s affirmation. “The bag of holding bombs, I an. The fact that there are actual policies put in place to prevent such a thing from happening, along with regulation for their creation implies it's actually a credible threat. What’s more, given how relatively common these things are for the nobility, I believe that these weapons are capable of both scaling and stockpiling well. And that’s just one of their strategic cards." The Cadet warned with a palpable wariness. “But as for the rest of their strategic arsenal? It’s hard to tell. Most of that intel was gathered from a history class. So it might be propaganda, or it might not. I wouldn’t discount it though, given the existence of the bag of holding bombs.”
“Understood.” I acknowledged before quickly looking over the next batch of reports.
“There’s sothing I want to touch on before we even get to tactical capacity.” I continued with a certain level of unease. “The logistics report you provided painted a rather… concerning image of the Nexus. I know the Nexus is capable of point-to-point instantaneous matter transfer, but the scale at which this is perford is the point I wanted to touch upon.” I paused, once more locking eyes with Emma through the litany of virtual paperwork. “Is it… really as trivial as you’re implying in your reports? From what you’ve been able to observe, just how common would the use of portals be for logistical applications in both military and civilian settings?”
“It’s as mundane as taking a train, sir.” Emma replied bluntly.
At which point, I could feel a genuine weight falling on my shoulders.
“While I cannot confirm nor deny the Nexus’ exo-atmospheric capabilities. Or rather, it would seem as if they lack it entirely from my current understanding. What they do possess is sothing that makes any transportation trivial. The usage of portals, in all of their various forms, is common for both transportation and logistics, not to ntion military applications. We’re talking anything from tactical deploynt of strike forces, to the potential use of portals as an impossible-to-stop vector of attack through which anything can be dropped through — even mana.” Emma made certain to emphasize that latter point. “The fact of the matter is, sir, that it is theoretically possible for the Nexus to dump an influx of Atypical Exoreality Radiation, anywhere they wish. The only caveat being… this’ll also drain their end of things. So it’s a tradeoff, but a strategic threat that can’t be written off.”
This… was a bombshell.
And I was right to have addressed this particular point of contention.
However, due to the utter reality-shattering implications of this whole… revelation, I just couldn’t acknowledge it and move on.
It had to be verified.
“Emma.” I began with a huge inhale. “What you’re claiming here is a completely novel vector of warfare, which we currently have limited counters for. I need you to clarify and distinguish between what’s possible and what’s simply… common there. There have to be limits to this. The footage from your arrival alone demonstrates the sheer effort needed to simply enlarge a portal opened from our end, correct?”
“Yeah, er, yes sir.” The Cadet acknowledged. “Perhaps I was being a bit too hyperbolic, or perhaps I was conflating the sheer ubiquity of portals here for their ease of deploynt across the board, especially when you consider our lack of local mana. But this is sothing that I just don’t have a definitive answer to. I just thought it would be prudent to inform you of the possibility of sothing this catastrophic.”
“You were right to do that.” I responded with an affirmative and supportive nod. “The devil is always in the details.” I quickly added. “However, I’m going to need this to be a top priority for you, Emma. We’re going to need more intel on just how these portals are opened, their tactical and strategic applications, as well as…” I paused mid-sentence, just as Emma craned her head towards another figure in the cave.
“Cadet Booker?” Weir spoke first.
“Yes, Director?”
“Who was that other individual you just panned to?”
“Oh.” Emma managed out sheepishly. “That’s the tertiary source and ally in question, Director. I apologize I haven’t yet introduced him to the conversation, it’s just—”
“No, no, that’s quite understandable given the circumstances.” Weir interrupted with a flurry of reassurances. “But… did we see that right? Is he…”
Emma answered these indirect queries with a simple pan of her helt. At which point, the whole room erupted in a collective series of gasps, gawks, and the occasional ‘whoah.’
“Director Weir, Captain Li, Dr. kis, this is Prince Thalmin Havenbrock of Havenbrockrealm. One of the mbers of my peer group at the Academy, and an ardent ally throughout my operations here in the Nexus. I was hoping he could maybe shed so more light on Nexian military capacity, given how Prince Havenbrock is quite knowledgeable in this field in particular.”
The… wolf in question stepped forward but remained just far enough away that it took one of Emma’s caras to optically zoom in, just so we could get a closer look at him.
It was a sha he couldn’t see us.
Though he did seem quick on the uptake as to how this interaction would move forward.
“Emma, may I?” He directed his first query to Emma, who promptly nodded in acknowledgent.
“Command? Permission to formally introduce a local ally into the conference?” Emma asked, this ti with excitent and optimism now returning to her voice.
“Permission granted, Cadet.” Weir nodded in acknowledgent, followed close in tow by the wolf prince’s formal self-introduction.
“Leaders of Earthrealm, superiors to Cadet Emma Booker, I greet you with all honors afforded to by my birthright.” The wolf began, as he placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. “I am Prince Thalmin Havenbrock, of Havenbrockrealm. Royal Bearer of the Spoils. Keeper of the Writ. Tracker of Traitors. And Royal Emmissary…” He paused for a mont, as if contemplating his next few words. “...for the Havenbrockian Cause.”
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