[b]Krankar Palace, Trondem, Principality of Krankar[/b]

Chancellor Michal Poloskan walked firmly through the halls of the palace, his shiny boots making a muffled noise as they hit the royal red carpet. He had walked this route every week for the last few months to meet with His Imperial Majesty, Prince Johan Ainwald-Brexeter II. The Chancellor liked to pretend these meetings were fun and they actually did things to change the country as opposed to getting slightly drunk and shouting at each other - but they weren't. Johan was a different beast to his father, much younger and more rash. There was quite an age difference between the two men and when Johan had been crowned shortly after his fathers death, Michal had hoped the young Prince would look to him as a father figure, one who he took advice from. One who could influence his decisions.

But Johan had other ideas. On more than one occasion had the Monarch and State butted heads over foreign policy and military size, with the more conservative Diet reluctant to increase the military size to Johans standards. The Prince had taken to instead hiring mercenaries and absorbing them into his army, increasing it by a few hundred men. A few hundred men who leeched off of the military budget. The Chancellor grimly stood beside the door, not looking forward to this weeks meeting. The guard, a heavily armoured man with a pike, nodded at him and opened the door wide. 'Chancellor Michal here to see you, your Majesty' he announced, stepping aside to let the Chancellor inside the Princes study.

Prince Johan looked up from his desk and smiled warmly. 'Chancellor, it is good to see you' the younger man stood from behind his desk, standing at his full height and reached out a hand, which Michal shook stiffly. 'And you, your Majesty' he replied, bowing slightly. 'Please, take a seat, I just have to finish this letter to my wife. It'll only be a minute' gestured Johan. Michal sat down across Johan as the Prince quickly continued his letter. As he glanced around the study, he stroked his grey whiskers in wearily. Prince Johan was very different to normal Krankarian aristocracy - as opposed to wearing the traditional military uniforms and growing a large beard, he had taken to modern suit-and-ties and keeping a clean shaven chin. With his hair neatly combed back and a pair of sparkling blue eyes, it made him look several years younger. The Prince was fast approaching his thirtieth birthday and his ninth year on the throne yet looked no different to the day he had been crowned all those years ago.

The Chancellor had opted for a more traditional look. He strode about in shiny boots, a Field Marshall's uniform and a chestful of medals on his breast. But he had never seen a day on the battlefield, merely having been born into the right family at the right time to be promoted straight to the the top. And at the top he had stayed for past forty years now, using a variety of tactics to keep his region happy enough to be re-elected every year. The Poloskan's were a classical Krankarian aristocratic political family, a member being in every government for the past one-hundred-and-fifty-years. He also grew a large moustache that fed into a grey beard, which once had been grand and intimidating but now looked wispy and pathetic.

'So, Michal, how has your week been since our last meeting?' asked Johan quietly, scribbling furiously onto a piece of parchment. 'Well, your Majesty' he replied gruffly, wondering if the Prince remembered the spat they had gotten into the week before over recruitment quotas. 'And you?' Johan glanced up momentarily, smiling. 'I was with my son and wife at the lakeside a day into our holiday and I was dragged back here for work. Not great, I'll admit but these things have to be done, I'm afraid'. Michal didn't reply but silently loathed his lord a little bit more. Small talk fell to silence until Johan carefully put the pot on his ink and placed the quill back into it's case. The letter was stamped by his royal seal and placed behind him for later. He bridged his hands and placed his head on them, his eyes darting across the Chancellors face for a few moments. He was waiting for him to begin.

Michal cleared his throat and took a piece of paper from his pocket. It was a military report, given to him just this morning. 'At your request, we have begun another recruitment drive with the hopes of an extra 2,000 troops to be drafted into the reserve by the end of this month. And well...it's not going very well' admitted Michal, passing the report to the Prince. 'The Diet is split on the decision of enlarging the army, with a sizeable minority claiming it is unnecessary. We began the recruitment drive with a slight majority and have drafted an extra two hundred men in the last three weeks, well below the quota. We predict at this rate we will have up to 900 men extra in reserve by the start of summer, well behind the quota of 2,000 men'. The Chancellor paused, gauging Johan's reaction. The Prince was scanning the military report in silence, his jaw clenched slightly.

'You understand why I ask the Diet to begin a recruitment drive? My thoughts have been explained to those common fools, yes?' said Johan quietly, a sharp edge of anger cutting the side of voice. 'Yes, your majesty' said the Chancellor, bowing his head in respect. All the formalities the Prince had held earlier were fast going down the drain. 'We are surrounded on all sides by a group of insane empires at each others throats. We can't choose a side without being smashed to pieces by the other one. Krankar needs to arm herself with a larger army or we become the warground of the world!' his voice was raising slightly.

The Chancellor put his face into one palm and massaged his eyeballs. 'You have to understand, Johan, we have not had war in over 70 years! We cannot just suddenly arm ourselves and expect no one to know about it. We cannot both prepare for and stop war. We have not been invaded yet and in fact, our relations with the neighbouring empires is rather polite. I do not think we shall be invaded any time soon' he blurted, feeling exasperated with the man he called Prince.

'I would feel much safer in my bed at night if I knew that neither the Virians or the Valmian's had a chance of reaching Trondem in the next week' growled Johan. 'But we both know that isn't possible because we're one of the smallest countries on the continent!'

'Your Majesty, relax yourself. We have thrown a rope of friendship to some neighbours outside of the three that surround us' said the Chancellor. Johan waved a hand in disgust. 'Fuck off' he said, an edge of malice in his voice. 'No one tells me to relax myself. I didn't assume the throne to take orders from some crusty old man. I want you out of my palace and back in the Diet. If the army isn't expanded by the next time we meet, I'm going to start refusing legislation'. The Chancellor stood, mumbling an apology before being rushed out the door by one of the Royal Guards.

The Prince sat back, sighing and put his feet up. It was good to be Prince but sometimes, when surrounded by idiots, one couldn't help but wish for a simpler life.

[b]Ruumstumpf Commercial Airport[/b]

The zeppelin slowly rose into the air as the weights were thrown off one by one. The rising sun in the horizon cast a long shadow that slowly retreated as the zeppelin reached high into the sky. On board the commercial Zeppelin sat several Krankarian diplomats and a small unit of guards, including one Ambassador Heinrich. He was a tall, stooping man who wore a military uniform, although he had never fought in a war. His moustache was neatly plucked and his hair cut down to the scalp. A serious expression furrowed his face as watched the world slowly get smaller below him.

'Good morning, sirs, and welcome to Ruum Airways, Hunderhuss-class #25. Our destination is Segue Airstrip in Astoria and we shall be flying over the Velis Empire for the quickest route. In the unlikely case of emergency, parachutes are available under all your seats. You shall place the parachute onto your back and proceed to checkpoint 1 at the left hand side of the airship. There, you will receive further instructions. We'd like to thank you all for flying with Ruum and as you are VIPs, all your needs shall be served at no extra price. It is currently eight in the morning and we shall be arriving in Astoria in the late evening, perhaps 8-9pm. The weather is looking clear and sunny but we expect rain upon approaching the Segue Airstrip. We'd like to thank you for choosing Ruum Airways and we hope you enjoy your journey with us!' said the unusually happy stewardess, not taking a single breathe. The cabin was largely empty par from the diplomats and the guards, who all sat around a table smoking or talking quietly. Ambassador Heinrich stood at the window, sipping on a glass of water as he stared at the ground below. The engines hummed at his feet and in the ceiling.

'Ambassador, you have received your orders, yes?' came a voice at his ear. It was Stein, the mercenary captain of the small group of guards who surrounded him. Heinrich nodded and nudged the suitcase at his feet. 'Good' smiled Stein, placing a warm hand on the Ambassadors shoulder. 'This meeting with the Astorian's shall go to plan, I promise you'. Heinrich nodded, pursing his lips slightly.

His eyes stayed out the window as the airship crept above the clouds. The Astorian's were Krankar's final hope, according to Chancellor Michal. An alliance with them would help the Prince sleep soundly at night. An alliance with them would change the playing field.