Silence had fallen unto the heir's lips, as the envoys reacted in all sorts of interesting manners, from gasps, to shouts, to apparent apathy. His cold gaze was affixed unto the surface of the table, following the jagged reflections of the envoys present, as they animated and displayed various degrees of support and regret. But, Aleko's expression remained unchanged, until madame Shroudmyr pointed out a very important detail that did not cross his mind initially, if at all, since he had been too busy to reel from the mind-numbing news. He lifted his snout, his eyebrows rising while his tired cortex processed what the other hybrid meant to say.

[i]We've a traitor.[/i] He thought, before Frosthand stated it out loudly.

He could feel a fiery dagger slowly dig itself into his bowels, which spread rage and hatred through his core. He found it unbelievable, that someone had found this sort of information and quickly sent it over to the Stainless Empire at such a short notice, in the span of a week. Every other word that followed would be the result of logical deduction, and the one conclusion that troubled him the most was the fact that it was a perfectly laid-out trap for him to fall into by acting on pure emotion, rather than rationally forging a machination to deal with the personal attack. But, how could he react logically to an attack that was meant to stir him, and have him react in one form or another? Let alone his mother being caught in the invasion, he shared memories with the folk he knew there, as well as the landscapes and the architecture of the province. And therein, Aleko found that he had an advantage, the fact immediately sparking a few ideas in his mind. The canine seemed to grow rather agitated as the envoys kept stirring and mumbling, becoming rather uneasy on his seat as he wanted to storm out into solitude and coalesce his transient thoughts into a plan. But, at the end, he felt the need to part with a few words. Unfortunately, his gesture wold turn to be rather crass, as he managed to topple the chair behind him as he pushed himself on his feet. Aleko winced at the sound and shook his head.

"I will accept master Weaverstar's incentive to closely investigate this outrageous act of mutiny. But, if any of you find a clue, a hint of sorts regarding the involvement in this betrayal, you are to report immediately." The heir dictated, while he pulled the chair from the ground and push it back in its place. "But, any form of bickering and false accusation will be punished. I want a serious investigation, and not an opportunity to boot out whomever you do not like. We're here for unity, above all. Godspeed."

But, the heir found no respite, as the human envoy made it jarringly obvious he had no implication with the treason, as he persistently confessed his sorrowful feelings towards the delicate issue. Aleko strode down towards the map room with his hands crossed to his back, his gaze washing over the floor as once again, the length of the corridor seemed to have doubled that day, as well as Gwynpath seeming to not stop blabbering. But, once they reached the entrance, the heir placed a hand upon the human's shoulder and offered it a limp tug.

"You have my thanks, master Gwynpath." Stated Aleko. "I... I need to speak to the generals and have a moment to recollect before I can think about other matters. But, consider yourself invited to a enjoy a coffee with me on the morrow."

[i]Did I just?[/i] He questioned himself. [i]Am I that lonely? I have just made myself vulnerable.[/i] The heir felt dread as he walked inside the map room, where he found the generals waiting for him.

"Generals." He promptly greeted them, as he made his way to his usual spot. There, he sighed and leaned against the surface with his palms. "We have a situation."

And reactions followed once he disclosed the details of the invasion. And they weren't favorable, as it would seem there was little that they could do about Zeiserberg without stirring unwanted attention, which would cut down the momentum of the counter. The province was far away too, thus reinforcements would be rather cumbersome to sail over. Every possible maneuver would put them at a major disadvantage, in such a manner that the advantages Aleko found would quickly pale. This was a deviously smart attack, that should rile him and mindlessly send his forces over to liberate the province and lose the fight against a defensive force; most likely, they counted on the Old Empire to jump at his troops and reduce the numbers before the Stainless could arrive and deliver a coup'd'grace. It seemed that choices were very slim, until, Cyrus made his appearance with a suggestion of his own.

[i]Trying to make amends for your deception, you artifact?[/i] Aleko thought as he glanced at the wizard.

The halfling listened to it all, his teeth lightly grinding away at the new thoughts, while his fingers rubbed the bad ideas into oblivion. But, with so many eyes upon him, he couldn't focus, he couldn't have thoughts of his own. The heir took a moment to rub his eyes.

"I... the infiltrators, and forces. We-" he cleared his throat. "Allow me a moment." The halfling stormed out of the room, to head to the first latrine in his way, where he quickly dismantled himself unto his knees and retched down the stinking hole. 

His entire frame arched and contorted as his innards refused to digest his breakfast, and hurled the mostly-intact meal down the hatch. By the time he could control the spasms, he found himself miserably sitting on the floor, his back resting against a wall while panting for some air. He tried to open his watered eyes, but the salt of his sweat stung him. After an attempt to clear his throat, he spat out more of the food down the hole, and calmed his breath down. Finally, he had the silence he required to plot, although the location wasn't the most appropriate. It didn't matter, patterns were forming, mechanisms clinked and clattered, as he mentally tried to outmaneuver his foes. When he could push himself up, he started to walk up and down the small chamber, in a rather erratic pattern, as his mind completely separated from its body to delve itself into strategy. Only when some worker accessed the latrine, did the Emperor wake from his meditative state and gawped at the intruder. He blinked and slithered out, offering his apologies to the man that wanted to use the chamber. It probably took him an hour or so to return, but when he did, he looked weaker still, although twice as determined.

"The fact that we can transport our troops inside the province in a matter of a week is what dismantles every bit of the Stainless's plan to crush our counterattacking forces." The heir quickly muttered as he walked back inside the room, and served himself with another cup of water to wash down the awful taste of bile.

"They counted on that I would give in to rage and dispatch troops immediately, with me spearheading the counteroffensive. They counted on the fact that it would take us at the very least three weeks to reach Zeiserberg, time in which they would have easily consolidated their defensive positions and reinforce their invasion forces; furthermore, they counted on the two provinces controlled by the Old Empire to shave off some of our numbers, as an opportunity to take revenge on Northspark. Deviously clever. And if it weren't for Master Weaverstar to cut my rage short, I would have definitely thrown myself into the fray, with little regards towards anyone's suggestions." He sighed, and swallowed dryly.

"The plan is as follows." He stretched his back. "Infiltrators are to prepare the teleportation ritual, but as I've suggested to general Planestalker, they will also attempt to sabotage the army and cut off their supplies and reinforcement lines. As such, they've enough tasks at hand, therefore, you may rescind the task of scouting for my mother." He could feel his torso squirm and send a cold chill through his hide. "As, for how the counterattack will go..." he cleared his throat, and proceeded to drink some more water.

"Firstly, I need to point out I know the province on the inside out. The Anthro lands are prone to wet weather, them being a mass of islands in a maritime temperate climate; while the province doesn't usually get hammered with bad weather too often, it produces an awful amount of muck and mud under heavy downpours. Combine that with the infiltrators cutting off supplies, it will significantly slow them down and make their stay a very unpleasant one. Since, they've been there for one week now, they wouldn't have amassed much of a force, and with another week of slow supplies and terrible weather, they will be properly weaken for us to storm over them."

"Granted, bad weather isn't a guarantee. Unless, we bring it upon them. Therefore, the first squad to make it through will be made of wizards. Their task is to stir the clouds into a constant thunderstorm and downpour, regardless of the risk of provoking floods. There's plenty of overcast and heavy clouds to shape and play with; now, this may not be quite ethical in some eyes, but is this open threat towards me and my mother made by a man with high moral standards?"

"Another point on having wizards there is that, most likely, the Stainless will have "borrowed" Anthro equipment by now; that means, lots of steel and wood. Standard troops against plate armor and high-end weaponry will not stand a chance, but if we were to assault steel with electrical bolts, and roast them inside their armor and melt their weapons with balls of fire..." he furtively glanced at Bulkwyn, feeling her gaze slitting his throat.

"... me being an elite ranger, a mage is the last thing I'd want to encounter. Or, one of my own men. As such, the second wave will comprise of Elite Rangers and Dwarven Grenadiers, with me and another general by my side. Why Rangers and Grenadiers? Zeiserberg holds no castle, or fort, it is a strictly urban and rural province with no lordly domain, and in such terrain, we're bound to fight in a lot of close-quarter situation, of not on open lands. In both cases, we need light, versatile and highly maneuverable troops, with the potential to deliver massive firepower. Grenades take out rooms and entire buildings, clear corners, corridors, streets even. Elite Rangers are used to muck and mud, and will fight from distance before storming occupied buildings with advanced weaponry to clear stragglers after the grenades have cleared most of the threats. Trenches are easy to clear with grenades, as well as with pyromancy. Open field fights can be shifted on our side with the help of the storms formed by the wizards, unleashing lightning upon the enemy. We will drive the enemy into the provinces held by the Old Empire, so that the stragglers will be finished off by them. Those who surrender? Gods be in their side, for I will not feel merciful." 

"It may turn out to be a battle of attrition, as opposed the quick storm with which we took over Northspark, but we will be amply supplied by the people of Zeiserberg, especially if they will know it is me that leads the liberating force." Aleko took a moment to gulp and sit down, to rest his mind and mouth. He sighed, rubbed his jaw and grumbled.

"I know, they may have prepared for this type of counter, since they were smart enough to devise this trap, but I count on the fact that they do not expect us to arrive sooner than they would expect us. But, given our current situation, I believe they will soon learn of our trick, for I have been informed that a traitor lays in wait among us." The heir sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Master Weaverstar will handle this situation personally, no need to jump the horse. But if you sirs find a clue in regards to who is this cut-throat, you are to inform either me or him immediately."

"Now then. Three squads, one made of wizards that goes in first, the other two some time after they arrive. I will definitely join the attack. Who else wishes to join me?" He asked, while not looking at any of the generals in particular, but quite clearly avoiding Bulkwyn's presence. "And most importantly, have you better suggestions?"