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The Tyro-Redanian Empire


"Unbowed and Unbroken"
1899



The Madasta Affair


Somewhere within the Imperial Palace a Tyrian Count moved at pace, a sweat breaking across his brow from his journey here from the Admiralty. A stack of papers and charts held within the crook of his arm, Wolfgang walked swiftly with a purpose as he passed along the hallways of the Palace towards his ultimate destination. Flanked by two House Guards in ceremonial dress of a dark red and black, their polished breastplates catching the light just as well as the finely finished rifles they kept at their sides. The Minister stared longingly at the door they guarded before taking a moment to gather himself and his fleeting breath until at-last he was ready to speak.

"I have urgent news for the Emperor. It requires his immediate attention." For a few seconds Wolfgang wondered if his words had been heard by the silent sentinels as they regarded him coldly. Another second and finally they offered him a nod that he might proceed and moved to part the great doors of Radenan oak painted to a white and embellished with metal workings of gold as they allowed the Minister entrance into the Emperor's own study.

The Emperor-King's desk lay stacked with sheets of ledgers, documents, charts and papers. Wolfgang himself entered with his own documents and there he waited before the Emperor's desk for the monarch to officially greet him. His Majesty appeared to be writing as Wolfgang spent a moment taking in the room around him. Bookshelves and paneled walls of a rich mahogany stared back at him as light flew into the room through a great window at his Majesty's back. The Emperor looked up from his writings to a correspondence and offered a smile to his Minister.

"Wolfgang. What is the matter?" Questioned his Majesty, surprised by his minsters unexpected and sudden arrival but not visibly perturbed, if anything he appeared curious.

"Your Majesty." Wolfgang said formally as he set his pile of documents before the Emperor. "Apologies my Emperor but this is a matter which requires your attention... it has become known to us that the Survian colony of Madasta on the North Serranthian coast has fallen to a revolt." The Minister spoke as he drew a map from his documents showing the aforementioned colony and placed it upon the desk. "The Survians have failed to quell this revolt and reports indicate are unable to do so, with the rebels declaring themselves the independent Heffan Caliphate." Wolfgang found himself pausing as he considered how he might broach his next words.

"Go on." The Emperor encouraged, seeing that his Minister of the Navy had more to say.

"Your Majesty. I believe, that should we act swiftly we might seize these lands for our own, for a colony of our own. I believe we might take advantage of this moment and I have had the Admiralty begin drawing up invasion plans and have reached out to the Army." Wolfgang spoke passionately as he set the necessary papers before the Emperor. "With your seal, my Emperor, we might begin the seizure of Madasta."

A second passed before judgement fell with the imperial seal as it pressed upon the page, leaving behind the Emperor's personal sigil. The order was given, judgement had been made on the fate of Madasta and soon the Empire's flag would fly over a piece of Serranthia.
The Tyro-Redanian Empire


"Unbowed and Unbroken"
1899



Aetorian Spring Ball


Victor von Wolfram looked at his reflection within the mirror, the mimic staring back at him as he adjusted his neck tie. A free hand ran across his forehead and through his short, tightly curled, black hair as he took in his measure. This was the 29th of April, the day of the Spring Ball and the Imperial Palace would be alight as it hosted royalty and nobility from across the Continent.

"Now I'm ready." He murmured to himself and his reflection as he tightened the knot.

"I should hope so," said a woman's voice behind him. "Can't be late to your own ball now."

"Yes, you're quite right Diana." The Crown Prince said with a smile and a turn as Diana Rossman swept into his room like one might expect of an actress within a play. He regarded the Imperial Artist-in-Residence warmly, one of the greatest painters within the nation, famed for her vivid landscapes and artistry, she was known across the Continent for her extraordinary works.

If only she thought the same. He thought as he took in her appearance. For the Spring Ball Diana had chosen a long, formal dress of green silk and a tight corset which modestly accentuated her form. Her raven-dark hair unusually bound, framed her perfect face with ribbons the colour of emeralds.

"You look beautiful Diana." He said.

"Thank you, Victor." She replied, standing before him as her hands fussed with his collar. "I only wish I could say the same for you." The painter said with a smile as she undid his necktie and with great care retied it. Cutting off his protest with further words upon her lips.
"Fine is not good enough my dear. You must look exquisite before those attending. They will expect no less of the Heir to the Throne." Her words ending any hint of protest from the Prince, his eyes instead searched hers.

"And your own work?" He asked as she finished her administrations. "How are you getting along with that portrait of yours?"

His words were met with a moment of silence and finally a sigh. "It's coming along. Though I may start again, everyday I see more and more to dislike."

"No, you shouldn't. It looked wonderful last I saw it. It will be fine." He spoke, hoping to say more and to put to rest her restless soul. instead he said, "Come on, we shouldn't keep them waiting."

They entered the ball separately, to do otherwise would be scandalous in a furnished great hall where nobility and royalty from across the Continent had been invited and had gathered. The young and the old all had come in resplendent carriages throughout the morning and afternoon, being escorted to one of the many spacious rooms within the palace to enjoy warm cups of tea amongst other light beverages. As night fell, the ballroom would become the center of attention as it filled with the cream of international society. Nobility from their neighbors in Oslad and Sessau, from the island nation of Tara and even from the furthest reaches of Radena were all present and decked in gowns of the finest cloths and fabrics, as plateaus upon circular tables offered the world's delights in abundance. Laughter and the sounds of revelry adorned the room just as much as the bright glow of electric lightning and the warm radiance of nearby fireplaces licked the walls and ceilings with light.

Before the festivities were to begin in earnest however, the Crown Prince Victor von Wolfram made his way to the center of the ballroom, his presence announced by the trumpets of several guardsmen resplendent in ceremonial military uniform as their trumpets echoed throughout the hall.

For a moment the Prince gazed upon the assembly of nobility and foreign dignitaries with an appraising look to his eye. Finally with a clink of his glass, the red liquid within catching the light. He spoke.

"Thank you all for attending this evening." The Crown Prince spoke confidently. "It is my pleasure to welcome you all today to the Aetorian Spring Ball..."

Interested.
Interested.
May the die be kind!
The Great Khanate

Cain Marshall, Envoy of the Great Khans
Ultra Lux Casino, New Vegas, F.Z.M


In no time at all since he'd arrived, voices had been raised and the NCR's president had been shived with what appeared to be a pair of chopsticks. What the fuck did I miss? Was all Cain could think as he witnessed a brawl break out between the shived and shiver, a woman of a faction the Great Khan didn't recognize. What drew Cain's interest however was the bounty cried out on the NCR representative's head by the two delectable women just before the brawl. One hundred thousands caps...

Hiding a smirk of his own as he watched the exchange which was quickly ended by the intervention of one of House's drones. The Khan made a note to get that woman's name before his eyes wandered back towards the robed man, a man of the Western Brotherhood. He offered a nod in return to the man's own nod of acknowledgement though remained in his seat as he regarded the standing Elder.

"I believe that would be wise, Elder." Cain replied with a measured tone to the Elder's words before the brawl had interrupted them. "Perhaps tomorrow would be most suitable for a meeting given your current... engagements." The khan spoke as he rose from his seat, his eyes flickering to the other Brotherhood members within the room. "Yes, that would do." Cain added as he moved to shake the hand of the Brotherhood Elder before the man left the room with others leaving for whatever haunts they chose.

He sensed the tension in the Great Khan besides him before he noticed the men of the red, of the Legion approaching him. Cain hid his amusement as the Quaestor stopped and bowed before him, rather than returning the gesture however Cain offered the Legion man his hand for a proper greeting.

"Cain Marshall. I speak for the Great Khans. Yes." Cain introduced himself after listening to Titus and gripping the man's hand in a shake if he wasn't above accepting it. "We would accept your invitation Quaestor. I believe the Khans have no other business here today so by all means lead on." The Khan spoke with a motion of his hand. "This place is a strange one... Perhaps you might speak to me of what happened before we arrived at the conference, on our way to your camp."

With that, barring any further business, an ensemble of the red and purple clad Legionaries and the black jacketed Great Khans would ride out of New Vegas, leaving behind the city of lights for the wasteland beyond.
The Great Khanate




The Golden City, Great Khanate


Cain's eyes followed the cracks running along the pavement below him as he moved amidst the streets of the Golden City. The capital of the Khanate, the city around him was a collection of the Ger tents for which the Khans were known and the jagged skyline of ruined buildings experiencing slow yet steady reconstruction. The light from various fires, gas lamps and electric lights adorned the city in light as the figure of Cain shuffled along in the gloom of night.

He had been given his charge, the charge of journeying to New Vegas as a diplomatic envoy of the Khanate. To represent his people to all of the powers of America. As any Great Khan, he had vowed to act with pride, and this he would do.

Shouldering the leather strap of his repeater rifle, the Great Khan stalked his way through the night air as he set off towards the meet. Clutching a sputtering chem lamp which cast a blue light around him, Cain approached his chosen few, those who would be accompanying him on the journey south. Like himself they were clad in the black leathers and jackets of the Great Khans, each augmented in their own way with plates of metal and lamellar armour, each with weapons at their sides. The party's horses grazed nearby, he spotted his own steed Thunderer amongst their number.

"Everybody here? Good, it's time we ride."




A mile outside of New Vegas, F.Z.M

Cain watched absently as the smoke before him danced on the mild Mojave breeze, the grey tendrils spiraling upwards towards the blue sky overhead from the glowing end of his cigarette. Taking another drag, Cain laid his eyes upon his surroundings and what a scene the Mojave wasteland offered. Nothing but a wide expanse of cracked ground, sand and dust as far as the eye could see.

Might as well be back in Wyoming after a dust bowl. He thought as he puffed a breath of smoke, his free hand clasping the leather reigns of Thunderer as the chestnut-coated beast lazily grazed upon a dry bushel of green amidst the tan.

"I'm just saying Marshall. Be careful. Vegas's families were once tribals." The heavy voice spoke. Cain looked up to see Karl, a heavyset man and the voice's owner gazing back at him as he stood by his own horse grazing on the Mojave grass.

"Vegas? You're telling me they used to be tribals?" Cain asked, his eyes turning towards to the southern horizon where the great lights of Vegas could be seen at night adorning the sky.

"Don't let them fool you with the getup. They might wear fancy suits and ties, but they were once tribals and that doesn't just leave you. Vegas swallowed 'em as tribes whole and spat out families, but the past isn't that easily forgotten." Karl spoke.

"Whatever those fuckers in their high towers have got. I can handle it." Cain supplied easily, a grin crossing his face.

"Mhm." Karl responded simply with a roll of his shoulders.

A moment passed before Cain spoke."Alright, time to go."

With a twist of his hand his cigarette fell to the ground, his boot followed it swiftly to crunch it into the dust and gravel as the Great Khans once more were on the move.




New Vegas

The Great Khans rode through the streets of a rebuilt New Vegas atop horses, the sound of their iron-clad hooves clapping against the roads sounding before them. It was a city of lights, everywhere one looked there lay bright and vibrant lights in a display of power and wealth. This might have once been ours. Cain thought as he looked upon the city, his grip upon the reigns guiding his horse and party towards it's heart. There at the gates into the city proper they found one of House's Securitrons awaiting them. Across the inbuilt screen was a face, a smug grin permitting it's features and the horned helmet of the Khans atop it's head.

"You're late." The robot zapped as they approached. The robot reared on it's wheel in what appeared to be the contraption actually sizing him up. "Follow me." The machine spoke again before wheeling it's way into the den of wolves.

Leaving the rest of their number to guard the horses by the main gate, Cain and two Khans were led towards the Ultra-Luxe casino where they were disarmed of their weapons.

Before they knew it, two great doors were being opened before them.

"Announcing the diplomatic envoy Cain Marshall of the Great Khanate." The man manning the door announced as he drew them apart.

Stepping through the yawning portal into the conference room. Cain took a moment to orientate himself, his gaze flicking across the vast array of those present before briefly lingering on the Confederation delegates, finally his gaze settled on the Suit at the head of the table. With a nod and a grin he stepped forward and reclined into an empty seat with little concern for those he sat next to. It seemed they'd intruded on something.


"You don't need to look outward, mighty Khan. Your tribe is proud and strong - claim your own glory!" - The Courier's last words for Papa Khan prior to the Second Battle of Hoover Dam




"You don't need to look outward, mighty Khan. Your tribe is proud and strong - claim your own glory!" - The Courier's last words for Papa Khan prior to the Second Battle of Hoover Dam


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