83 EH - Château Narca in Narcester (Temporary Capital of UEGNA), Narciss.
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Archcount-Khagan Urlic Ego-Estrin-Romanakov was, for the lack of a better term, uneasy about the developments on both fronts.
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The East had been knocked out of the War, but a steady increase in the level of Cerulean-Vorantine coordination both on and off the battlefield had roused the suspicions of Lord Sergeant-Major Lorzo De Petrov - the Vizier for War - that a massive counteroffensive was imminent.
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Mestae and by Rissau was celebrating the birth of Lothar Hessen-Rostov, who would be heir to all of the West once his mother was confirmed as Erzherzogin of Umbracrest. Anuax Hessen, now a grandfather, was busy frightening Seebhom Massaena - with his usual toolkit of threats, secrets and blackmail - and breathing down the neck of Nikolai Augereau. Perhaps literally, because the Rector`s aide-de-camp - Lieutenant General Ranquis Zhao - had written to the Archcount-Khagan describing the Margrave strutting about his camp administering Corporal punishment on the Grand-General with his cane at the slightest perceived offence.
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The Estrin Dominion was peaceful for once - uncommon in the nine hundred and seventeen-year long history of Empyrea`s oldest region.
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That left the Glacier Electorate in the North. The thirty-three Clans now demanded that their sovereign appoint a noble as Oiten / Oitena of the North to mediate the intensifying aggressions between the two most powerful Clans: Yunta and Marzi.
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There was only a handful of people willing to take up such a role. Urlic Ego-Estrin-Romanakov had recoiled from the list as if it was poisoned before gingerly reading it aloud to Vizier for Aristocracy, Lord Bruno Niobite-Tantalite, with an expression halfway between shock and amusement plastered on his face.
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"Carlot zu Geldmäcker, Gemma Augereau, Ethenezo Montclair, Grace Narcite-Argent, Baro De Napton. Are you mocking me, Vizier?" He accused.
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Niobite-Tantalite clutched his hand to his chest in feigned surprise. "Your Grace wounds me, I would never. We could always contact the High-Exarch of Worcestershire and ask he sends Chieftain Ragnor a very angry letter in triple ink instead?" He retorted, feigning an emotional reaction.
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"Hmmm," was the reply. The Archcount-Khagan launched into a full-blown analysis of the list, "Carlot is a ruthless snake that hates the ground I tread on, Gemma probably has enough wealth to purchase the entire Glacier Electorate, *I* can't stand the bumbling idiot that is Ethenezo, Grace is too fancy for commanding the respect of even one of the thirty-three clans, and Baro hides in his cupboard whenever someone breathes the name Hessen within five metres of him!"
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The Vizier for Aristocracy nodded and quietly grumbled, "Fair enough."
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"Well, who could we both is unimportant enough not to be missed but trustworthy enough to NOT stir the pot and make every blow up in our faces?" Urlic wondered aloud.
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Bruno leaned in and whispered, "My older brother - Lord Louphon Niobite-Tantalite - or your...cousin."
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The sovereign choked back a laugh. Still a notable beauty even at fifty-two, Viscountess Roxane "Roxy" Heather Ego of Worcestershire caused enough trouble in Narciss - her last trip outside of the Archregion had resulted in a month-long fiasco involving a romance writer of mixed Aquilorian-Pheasantine heritage called Erato Astaire, a bestselling novel, and a bitter conflict with nearly every media company which was only resolved when Archcountess-Khatun Vega creating a regulatory body under the jurisdiction of the Vizier for Media.
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In short, it was a bad idea to send her North.
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And yet...
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"Something funny? I'm sick of being trapped here, so let me go sort out those Clans for you please~." Pleaded a familiar voice as its owner emerged from behind a large chest of drawers.
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"Roxy," Urlic said, rolling his emerald-green eyes at her irritating habit of materialising whenever was mentioned - at her sudden appearance, "Why do you want to go anyway?" He asked in suspicion.
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"Not for the weather," She replied innocently, "I'm bored 'cause there's nothing for me to do here!" She clarified, her low voice adopting that brisk, flirty tone it took whenever she wanted something.
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Bruno Niobite-Tantalite handed the Archcount-Khagan of UEGNA a document. He squinted at the small writing, muttering darkly about wanting to see a Master Adept in Optics soon.
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"What was that?" Roxane asked sharply, her tone harsh now.
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"Er...I might need eyeglasses!" The sovereign said sadly.
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"I meant the paper, silly!"
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"Oh... it's a decree appointing whoever I want as Oiten or Oitena of the North, who will have power over all the clans and be entitled to have the Inspector Exempt as a personal guard. Are you *sure* you know what you are doing."
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"Look, Your Grace, it`s Marshal Blücher" She yelled before snatching the decree which bore the signatures of Elector Bremer Icicle, Vice Elector Sari Icicle, and the Justiciar of the Electorate - Jarl Jötunn Yunta - out of his hand.
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"R-"
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"Mine now." She sniggered childishly. The sister of the previous sovereign, Archcountess-Khatun Vega Calliope Ego, was well known to be sweet, stubborn and strong-willed. Urlic, with countless other tasks crying out for his attention already, couldn't be bothered trying to take it from her.
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"Fine, you can go! Take that bloody decree and get out of my sight Roxane."
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"Thank you, was that so hard?" She chirped, satisfied with her victory.
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"How lovely," snarled the Archcount-Khagan, "instead of writing to my lovely wife and children, I must fill out yet more paperwork. Am I a ruler or a glorified bureaucrat? I miss the High-Exarchs, Bruno..." He lamented.
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"Children? As in more than one?" The Vizier for Aristocracy asked.
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"Oh yes, Princess Gloria Ego-Estrin-Romanakov was born in the hospital of the Island Fortress of Skála recently. As terrible of a father my great-great-great-grandfather, 9th Earl Maximillian-Bigot Ego, was...at least he didn't miss the birth of his child! Chinggis-Dorj is practically raising Rionault and Gloria!" He said.
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"It is for their saf-" assured Lord Bruno.
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"A PRISON WARDEN!" The Archcount-Khagan screamed at the Vizier. "Tell the Grand Vizier that I will have her publicly executed if I have to speak to Vizier Narcester, Banks, Learner, Rio, Suncore, Lothete, Larke, Corru, Noro or Petrov again this week!"
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"Yes, at once Your Grace!" The Vizier said, tugging at his collar to let some air in as he began sweating in fear.
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Roxane scurried off to let her cousin`s temper cool down.
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Roxane remembered how her grandmother, 12th Countess Valerie Ego II, had technically lived to one hundred and fifty-two due to her brother`s semi-immortality preventing her from ageing for sixty-eight years. But now she had seen an extraordinarily old person who had attained a great lifespan naturally.
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Matriarch Vivienne "Vivi" of Clan Yunta had been born in the forty-first year of the Æbyss in the city of Yunta. Much to the amazement of the Adeptus Geriatric, her claim of being one hundred and ten years old had proven true.
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Her tough, leathery skin had deep lines etched into it by her eleven decades of life in Empyrea. Her hair was brittle and as white as the snow that covered everything in the Glacier Electorate. She walked with a gnarled, twisted cane made from wood harvested from an exceedingly rare Northwood tree.
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Most striking of all was her eyes, one was fully blind - milky-white from the advanced cataract that had slowly formed beneath the lens - while the other was so hazel it looked Orange. Those eyes burned with a maternal desire to protect her family but were softened by her sadness at outliving all of her children.
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The Matriarch of the North`s largest and possibly most powerful Clan seemed to silently criticise Roxane as she looked over the woman who was more than half her age slowly and cautiously.
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Finally, Vivienne Yunta spoke, "You are not welcome here, Narcissian." She growled.
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"His Grace, Archcount-Khagan Urlic of UEGNA, sends me, Roxane Heather Ego, to resolve growing tension between your people and those of Clan Marzi as part of my responsibilities as the new Oitena of the North. I was *supposed* to be accompanied by the Inspector Exempt, do you know where he is?" She replied calmly.
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"Me and my kin want nothing to do with those brutes that call themselves Clan Marzi, but my grandson might know where your Inspector Exempt went." The Matriarch croaked, her voice was even lower than that of Roxy`s - and she was a contralto!
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A titan stepped forward. Measuring 205.7cm (6ft 9) and weighing in at a hefty 110kg (242lbs), he was a colossus of bulging muscle and sinew. On his back was a ceremonial weapon, the curved War Scythe of the Justiciar of the Electorate (the head of the Inspectorate, Police Force, and Regional guard).
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"He no come, Elector Bremer gives Roxane his Justiciar," he explained in a rumbling bass which sprang up from his chest, making it tremble with every word. His voice oozed pure, unadulterated strength, discipline, and control. He then sank to his knees - where he was still taller than her - out of respect before continuing, "Jarl Jötunn Yunta is at service, Oitena." He said blankly.
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Roxy had never seen a man built like this Varl (Clan Lord) and she took a large step back in fear.
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"Jötunn means no harm to Oitena. Vivi not either. She will tell you of what... happened up in Glacier, right?"
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The supercentenarian Matriarch of Clan Yunta looked up. She gave a slight nod and extended a weak hand to become Oitena Roxane closer.
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"What do you know of Clan Marzi?" She asked softly.
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"Nothing." Admitted the Northeastern aristocrat.
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"I'd better start from the beginning then. Glacier claims to have thirty-three clans, which was true seventy years ago, but three have gone extinct. Twenty-eight of the remaining thirty either align with us or with Marzi." She explained.
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A higher male voice adds, "Clans Alkar, Bölls, Boya, Enmun, Forbach, Geinau, Kova, Neuchse, Neuh, Oferesch, Ottengen, Pubchi, Sarak,Topklu, Trilau, and Weien are loyal to Matriarch Vivi."
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"And you are...?"
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"Jarl Øystein Yunta, pleased to meet you Oitena Roxane. Unfortunately, my brothers Rurik and Torgar are in Glacier City for the foreseeable future, so I cannot introduce them to you."
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"Don't like Clan Neuchse, they make Jötunn`s brain hurt.." grumbled the giant Justiciar to himself.
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"Easy big Jo, no need to get all upset because Chief Neuchse stole from you. You never were the smartest, were you?." Øystein said, looking up at his much larger older sibling.
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"No need, Jötunn have this." He replied, pointing to the war Scythe.
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"Elector Bremer`s Justiciar was not particularly sharp, it would seem. As a teenager, Roxy had been fond of the resident scholar, the perpetually whining Trainee Adeptus Technospiritual. But this large man had his heart in the right place while the Adeptus' had a small, withered thing in his chest.
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A piercing tenor called out, "Clans Avar, Atarnu, Byran, Golok, Hinfel, Kutlu, Nam, Rhein, Stexau, Olben, and Wollstad align themselves with Chieftain Ragnor Marzi."
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"JÖTUNN WILL CRUSH CHEIF STEXAU FOR HIS CRIMES!" The Justiciar Jötunn roared.
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"Yes grandson, I'm sure you will." The Matriarch said meekly, frightened of her grandchild`s enormous frame and strength.
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"I thought you preferred your enemies smashed?" The Oitena asked sarcastically.
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"What did Clan Stexau do?" The Oitena whispered to her, "And who just said that?"
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"They are the North`s best guerilla fighters, their motto is: Strike like lightning. They ambushed and killed his deputy yesterday, I bet he'll rip Chief Aranzio Stexau in half if he catches him."
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Roxane Heather Ego shuddered at the idea. The hulking Jarl had the strength to accomplish such a feat.
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"Oh, sorry my Lady! I am Junker Jöri Yunta, son of Jötunn and great-grandson of Matriarch Vivienne."
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Roxy opened her mouth and closed it again. "Your mother must be a lucky woman." She said slyly, looking up at the macho personification of masculinity.
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The Justiciar gave a booming laugh, "HA! Jötunn likes this girl, can he have her?" He asked innocently.
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"No," Snapped his grandmother, "Is the Ritter Astrid not enough for your..manly desires? Oitena Roxane is Urlic`s cousin, leave her be."
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"Rith Astrrrrid so smchall, isth cute." He slurred, "Jötunnnnnn drinkth too...too musch meadth." He collapsed into a drunken slumber with a great thump.
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"Jöri, fetch your mother, please." Vivi asked, looking over at the heap of muscle with disdain.
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The Junker - a title signifying a young Lord - jogged off to find her.
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"I don't know what to do." Roxane told the old woman, her voice honest and sincere. It was not often that the Viscountess who had been dubbed the "Peacock of playful lies" spoke the truth in earnest.
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"You can start by keeping your new pet away from the mead. He's done nought but drink since he returned to me, he must have got through at least two kegs today!" The Matriarch cried.
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"I heard that leading the Inspectorate, Northern Constabulary, Regional Gaurd while listening to Bremer and Sari Icicle bark orders all day can make a person quite thirsty," She joked before changing her sentiment to be more serious with, "Let him sleep it off, I'll leave to talk with one of the Marzi Clans once he can walk in a straight line."
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"Mother is not in Yunta." Said Jöri sadly as he walked in.
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When was anything ever simple in Empyrea?
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