[center][i][color=aba000][h2]Abeyance[/h2][/color][/i][/center]

It had been three days since the might of Eisenkern had begun marching into Arisovia, and three days since the people of that abused land had known peace, even if it was under the thumb of a despised ruler. State troops marched up and down the streets of each city in the region, their weapons held across their chest and ready to use, the faceless helms scanning every individual they passed and almost looking for an excuse. Even under the increased presence of the Queen's army, rebellion festered among the populace, in Grajewo most of all as those who had before feared adding their voices to the rebellion, now did so in secret. As if insult to injury, foreigners had just landed upon Eisenkern soil, without even a word given to the council on whether or not the Arisovians agreed to allow them.

This was all until [i]her[/i] enforcers made their arrival in Grajewo. Marching in lockstep, the hiss of servos wheezing underneath their armor plates black as the dead night, those creatures called Black-Iron made it clear that Marianna Desrosiers owned Arisovia. Each one bore the markings of the serpent upon their shoulders, etched in acid into the armor and spiraling in complex patterns that differed from every other soldier. Hideous serpentine faces sat upon their necks, the helmets they wore showing clear their allegiance to Kohryillios and the Red Queen, and unlike those of the state-troops, solely created to strike terror into whatever dared oppose the will of their patron. What's more is that each one bore a strip of parchment affixed to their left shoulder, a single red mark from where they swore their blood-oath to their queen.

These were the monsters who were said to have been forged of the blackest iron, deep in the pits of the Queen's own withered heart. Each one held his own sins that would have been tantamount to treason in any other country, punishable by the most painful death. Gathered from those who dared to defy her to begin with, each prospect was once a murderer, a thief, a criminal of the most profane crimes. She broke them all to her will, forced them to live only for her. Forged anew, these men and women were now more terrible than anything they may have been before. Now they lived and breathed only for her love, and killed any that dared to defy her will. Whether it be an armed man, or a terrified child in the embrace of a weeping mother, if they did not bend their knee to their beloved queen, then they would be purged. Most terrible of all, however, was one who had been born and raised in this very city. A child of Grajewo, one who had before loved his city and the people of his nation. This man had once been a prominent figure among the community, one who bore the charisma of a leader, but the modesty to remain among the poor. He had been among those in the city when Marianna rained fire and lead down upon both innocent and guilty alike.

From the rubble of the city-block he lived, the man lay broken and burning in the fires of hatred that he had so desperately tried to stay. In his last moments, he watched everyone he loved burn to death before his eyes, powerless to help as his fall from the third floor of his home had broken both legs. Consigned to die along with them, the man closed his eyes and embraced death, only to open them to find a beautiful woman kneeling down over him, striking emerald eyes set in a face that seemed to be of the finest porcelain. Even as he became enthralled by the woman who slowly dug him out of what should have been his grave, he knew there was something else entirely behind her beauty. It was a poison, one that even as he greedily took it in, he knew was worse than death. So terrible was her poison, that when she told him she was Marianna Desrosiers, and that he would give himself fully to her will, he did so. That woman who had seen fit to order the murder of everyone he had ever known, she who had pulled him from death's embrace and spit in the face of the reaper himself.

Now the creature that was Gailestingumas stood idly by the throne of Eisenkreis, ready to give its life for her if she but asked, for she was now all he knew. Arisovia, his friends, his family, and even his childhood sweetheart, they were all forgotten. The mass of scarred flesh and steel that stood by the Red Queen's side was her mercy, a pet that needed no leash as it existed only to serve her. Truly if a being could have a blacker heart that Marianna, it was this one who had lost everything and knew only hatred. So it was that he did not even flinch as his queen began the address to the Arisovian people from the Tower of Eisenkern.

[hider=The Hegemon's Address]
[i]To the people of Arisovia, those who I so benevolently restored as a state under the rule of Eisenkern, this is your beloved queen. It has come to my attention that there are those among you who feel that my love for you is not enough, those who would take up arms against my rightful rule. As much as I wish for this to be resolved without need for armed enforcement, time has shown that Arisovia cannot be trusted to resolve their problems on their own. All around the province, you will notice the troops of our Hegemony patrolling your streets, safe-guarding the countryside, and ensuring that your lands remain safe from traitorous hands. This is unfortunately not to be the only change in your lands, for even with the courageous soldiers of not only your own state, but all of the Hegemony, there is still that risk that treason will rise in the shadows. With a heavy heart, I must decree that the state of Arisovia is now under martial law until further notice. Together we will cleanse the taint from Arisovia and see to it that the innocent and pure once more have majority.[/i][/hider]
[hr]

Sammael Kzechverin awoke with a grumble, a hand raising up to scratch at the ragged growth on his chin, wondering if today was the day that he would shave that beard. Looking over at the mechanical clock on his endtable, he decided that today was not the day, and swung his legs out over the edge of the bed. Slowly he raised the shades in his modest bedroom that was his entire house, and swore as the light of the sun hit him directly in the face. "What the shit is this." He gruffly mumbled as he dressed himself and walked over to the kitchenette that had seen better days likely a century ago. Dishes sat piled in the sink and left out food and discarded casings lay strewn across the counter-top hiding what could have been innumerable species of mold gaining sapience in his laziness.

This laziness was not something the twenty-eight year old noble of house Kzechverin had always known, however, and in many rights it was a way of solace in a life destroyed by political maneuvering. He chuckled to himself as he looked back on his prime, when five years ago he was next in line to become Stadthalter of the nation bearing his namesake. [i]All ruined by a puppet without strings.[/i] The thought came bitterly as he remembered how his own dear little sister had stolen the throne from him by what had seemed at the time being perfectly inept. She had never known the rule of even her own house, always at the will of others, about as close to a servant one of noble blood could ever truly be while still holding a title. The perfect puppet to place at the head of their beloved country.

Until she cut her strings. They saw too late the cunning of a princess that had always been pampered and looked down upon by the nobility, treated as a doll and made to dance for their amusement. He was there when she laughed at them when they asked her to take war to Eisenkreis, to finally take battle to their enemy of nearly two centuries. The look on the faces of the nobles was that of utter shock as they found the delicate princess had spine enough for the army, her look of amusement as she told them she fancied the woman known across the continent as The Red Queen. [i]Fucking sapphic.[/i] Again bitterness filled him as he looked over to the time and realized that he was [i]required[/i] by his queen to escort foreign guests.

His queen. Those two words brought hate to the forefront of his mind and without even being aware of it, his fingers flexed tightly around the metal cup in his hand, the flimsy sheet metal bending in his grip. To be reduced to being a slave of the bitch queen, he was her puppet and nothing more. A toy paraded out to greet diplomats and brought back to the castle when the mood struck her to be amused herself. Nevertheless, it was not within his power to deny her, and he knew she would just find another to break.

An hour later he found himself on the tarmac of the parade grounds exclusively given over to the landing of foreign airships, that of the nation of Ventium squatting its bulk currently and the diplomat said nation sitting upon a bench nearby awaiting escort. To either side of Sammael marched guards in the regalia of Eisenkern, their dark armour and flowing purple capes denoting their importance, but not entirely to the foreign diplomat. They were there by Marianna's orders namely for Sammael, to reinforce that he belonged to her, and that he was to serve her utterly in this endeavor. Resisting the urge to spit upon the ground then and there, he checked that he was appropriate and approached the group at the bench.

"My lords." He began, keeping to as best he could a common language between the two. "I am Sammael Kzechverin, Consort to the Hegemon, and I am to escort you to the Tower of Eisenkreis if you would accompany me."