[b][color=7ea7d8]High Elder Gladstone – Western Brotherhood of Steel – Electric City Throne Room[/color][/b]

Reclining on his throne, Gladstone watched in grim silence as the presentation unfolded, his eyes flickering over each scene of horror with a cold analytical resolve. It was as the radio broadcast was played that the High Elder stirred, the creaking of the ancient armour and steel throne quietened by the raging voice emanating from the speakers. He sat frozen in thought, even as the broadcasts echoes faded from the hall, before finally bestirring himself after a minute of contemplation.

“It would seem ambassador, that a quandary is before me. For the voice behind that broadcast does not distinguish between our two respective factions. It refers solely to the Brotherhood of Steel, not the Midwestern Brotherhood, not Barnaky’s Brotherhood, just the Brotherhood.”

Atticus’ jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth, he sighed, before leaning back in his chair, as if exhausted by the weight of the decision he was making.

“You may send a missive to the Lord Paladin, that by fate, it would seem we share a common enemy, a force which breaks the tenants of the Codex, and has declared war against the whole of our estranged factions. Factions if only recently reconciled, which still have something of a gulf between us by circumstances of time and space.”

The High Elder bowed his head, before raising it again with purpose a moment later. His voice directed not at the envoys before his throne, but the guards around the room.

“Order the muster, raise high the black banners my brethren, we march to the Midwest! Let the hammers fall and beat swords straight and sharp. In powered armour and with ancient dread armament equipped, it seems once again we must march. Let us wreath ourselves in glory and blood! Let us break our enemies with our hands and smite them into naught but ash and dust! Let us tear down their monuments to their own kin and rebuild upon them ones to the shame of their own defeat! For the purity of man! For the justice of the Codex! For the memory of Maxson! For the Brotherhood of Steel!”

A roar in reply met his words, spears rose to be shook in defiance of the enemy in the east and the High Elders shouts were repeated as feet crashed in the receiving of the proclamation. The cries turned to chants, the battle-hymns falling upon the warrior’s lips as the hall stirred into action, the doors opening and the herald sweeping out to trumpet calls announcing the decision of the High Elder. Gladstone had no eyes for that, instead, they fell upon the ambassador, his features grim, a half smile as the one side untouched by scar and burns allowed a small upturning of the lip.

“The Lord Paladin will have his war Your Excellency, let us hope there comes no cause to regret it.”

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[color=7ea7d8][b]High Elder Gladstone – Western Brotherhood of Steel – High Elder’s Quarters[/b][/color]

Night was falling across Electric city, and from his room high above, Atticus watched it draw its dark quilt over the warmth of the day. Below, a swirling river of lights began to awaken in mirror image to the stars pushing their pinprick lights into the dark above. Staring out across the city, the High Elder felt a twinge of sadness run through his being. 

For many, this would be a bittersweet night, on the morrow, they would begin the march to the warfront in the east. Atticus’ gaze briefly swept around the room, who would mourn his loss? He had taken no lover, fathered no children, and nor could he say any true friends remained. All he had was the cold harshness of duty as his companion, and duty brooked no love for any. Even those who remained true to it.

A knock at the door interrupted his reverie, his rasping voice bidding them enter, a squire with a letter to his hands. The High Elders interest piqued as he recognised the wax seal of the legion on the missive. An invitation to a conference, much like the one at Vegas. Well, it would be good to look outwards once more. Gladstone set the missive aside, dictating his reply to the squire.

“Send a reply to Caesar, we shall be attending. Have the motor convoy readied, we move at dawn.”