[b]Castella Miego's Mansion
Tiolli, Cordia del Sud Province
August 23, 1836[/b]

The marvelous gala had just ended and the room was cleared. Just an hour before midnight. The celebrations for the feast day of the most blessed Saint Simon Benegatti had just came to a close. It was a time of great jubilation. The day began with a mass to hold commemoration for the the special day. The bishop himself was there to lead the mass. Once more, he reminded the people of the importance of God and the church for the lives of the everyday man. This was an obvious challenge of the growing progressive movement of the country. The parliament members in attendance simply brushed the bishop's word aside. Then came a massive feast offered by the host, Governer Castella Miego. 

Miego had been the ellected governor of the province known as [i]Cordia del Sud[/i], roughly translated into "Southern Cordia". He is a man of short stature, a notably round belly and had balding grey hair. None knows hes true age as he claims it is fun to watch others guess. Governor Miego prepared a meal fit for royalty. Roasted suckling pig, pieces of meat on a skewer grilled over an open flame with strange vegetables from Maljuk sultanate, broiled lamb with a side dish of viana sauce. Many who feasted found themselves unable to stand after such a meal. The grandeur continued on well unto the evening as a grand gala was held. Parliament members, the royal family, the bishops and his clergy and family and friends of Governor Miego spent the night with exuberance without compare. 

However the night came to a close and one by one, the guest began to depart. The parliament members and the king stayed inside the mansion's ballroom. There was much to discuss. 

Vatannia had kept itself low amidst the thunderous roar of wars and threats going around outside the nation. Sanguine and Kapitas, Fulric and Schulstien and God only knows which ones would be next. Vatannia was a nation with relatively few allies if the young nation found itself in the grip of war. The Galvian state to the north was but a puppet to Vatannia. Braiyusal was one of the few Corthide countries but they would not help Vatannia in any future skirmishes. Skeptonia and Dalatrum were trade competitors Vatannia would rather not seek armed conflict with. Alone with wolves eyeing a meek and defenseless prey, its leaders sought to create allies. A desperate attempt was made to fund those who wanted to spread democracy for themselves. This opportunity came when Jarellian rebels started an open armed revolt against the Second Kingdom of Murellia. Hopeful of the situation, the parliament sent aid and arms to the rebels. However the rebellion was quickly crushed and Vatannia was left with no rewards from its venture. 

Like a traitor caught in the throng of an angry crowd, Vatannia kept its head low as the her neighbors began to settle their disputes with firearms. Prime Minister Francesco Demagio had invited the parliament members to the festivities for a convient meeting. The parliament members took their seats on lavishly carved arm chairs made of Orlian Oak. A steward was called to deliver refreshments of the men gathering inside the room. Prime Minister Demagio was the last to arrive himself. He took a seat at the right side of the group, next to his highness Amanni Morcos. All eyes inside the room turned towards them. Prime Minister Demagio raised his glass. 

"Gentle, I am quite happy you could make it to our assembly. My apologies for calling you this time of the night. Our activities had left us little time during the day so we must endure the calls of the sandman. Although I am sure that the allure of the finest wine ever tasted by the lips of men would keep you awake."

There was a light air of chuckles. The prime minister himself smiled at the crowd before he continued. 

"I do not wish to waste your time any further. Let us discuss the matter at hand." 

Before continuing, a young lad in his mid 20's rose from his seat. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. Hair gold as the rising morning sun and blue eyes that pierced the soul. It was Hermann Ciaconna. Hermann was the adopted boy of a wealthy landowner. He made his way into politics trying to shore up landowner reform laws that would limit the power of landowners over farmers. Prime Minister Demagio always imagined he had a grudge against his father. He was a brilliant young man, one of the finest members of parliament. 

"Should we not be discussing this back at Polma?" Ciaconna asked. 

"Well yes however I felt that our establishment was in dire need of entertainment before we discussed matters." Prime Minister Demagio answered. The young man nodded and sat back with a slight smile on his face. Oh the youth. 

"As I was saying, you know of the problems that plague our nation." The men inside the room kept their eyes fixed on Demagio. Vatannia had a great deal of problems. It was the task of the Prime Minister to fix which was most pressing. "We are in the midst of the storm without any shelter. Surrounded by those who find our independence and our revolution a sham. Our only source refuge is our friends to the north and our faith in God and our national unity." As Demagio continued, he saw the weariness in the eyes of those around him. He needed to reduce his theatrics and continue straight to the point. 

"And to keep our national unity, we need to keep the fires of industry burning alive." Intrigued, the men lean towards him. "That is why I propose the establishment trade negotiations towards Maljuk Caliphate."

Their curiosity of turned to caution. Demagio urged them to keep their composure and keep their attention towards himself. 

"The Caliphate is a rising power such as ourselves. However they have yet to accomplish the fast beat of industry we have in Vatannia. They have plenty of flax crop. However they weave their clothing by hand. We have looms that could weave as many fabrics as large number of their workers." 

"And what makes you so sure that they would be willing to barter with the likes of us?" An older gentlemen from the crowd asked. The tough exterior of a war veteran and a thick mustache. Sir Antonio Mivaldi, always suspicious of Demagio. 

"They too share our situation. Formed by those who seek to establish themselves anew from an old order. we should come to an understanding with this people. If not, then we could at least negotiate for equal trading rights."

The other faces in the room, redoubtably tired, came into agreement. They raised their glasses of wine towards Demagio. He raised his towards them. 

"Gentlemen, towards prosperity." 

A string of 'ayes' filled the room. The Concert of Tiolli came to an end. 

[hider=A letter for his majesty, Hammid Mohammed]
Greetings, 

Good day to you and your people. We here of the humble Kingdom of Vatannia would like to conduct fair business with your people. From our understanding, your nation is abundant in flax. We would like to acquire some by generous purchase. A trade negotiation between our two rising states could see much wealth. However such opulence could only be achieved with a great deal of cooperation. We would like you to consider this proposal. 

May the Caliphate last a thousand years. 
Signed:
Amanni Morcos
King of Vatannia
[/hider]