To Spear a Pike

[Iverica]

"This can't wait any longer. You've heard the news?"

"I have, pressures are mounting straight from the top. The diplomatic situation could get tenuous. The world up and threw the cards in the air, where the aces land is up to what we do in the next hours. Decorum and flowers go out the window."

"Terror groups are all around us, I understand this perfectly, but still, shouldn't this be a job for the SSO?"

Capo-General of Iverica's Armed Service, Ferran-Arnau Macharius halted suddenly in the deserted gallery, located deep within the bowels of Monttaco Mountain Command. 

"Minister... with respect. The landscape has already changed. Terror groups? The world wakes, her wings, both right and left are flexing--and the edges are sharp. Go far enough in either direction and what shape do you have? A horseshoe, with both ends about to cross. No, we can't be appeasers here, we must pre-empt the coming front."

The ageing, lined face of Iverica's Minister of Defence, Ricardo Ibanes dropped a fraction.

"If needs must."

"That they do, Minister."

---

FLAIR One | 0300
22nd January 2018
Verde Sea

 

An impromptu message to some of the world's most powerful military leaders was in no way keeping with the niceties of upper-brass standards, but in Macharius' (and no doubt in many other) books, pragmatism superceded formality.

Planned in secret for many months, the fruits of cooperation between 5 nations from three continents now sat inside the briefcase at Macharius' feet. He would be representing Primo Deitorr, and the entirety of the Executive Ministry for this meeting, at an undisclosed venue that his Mil-spec'ed S-1011 Trestrell now rocketed towards, escorted by a flight of the 12th Fighter Group's TA-201 Aguila. 

Having gone over the document dubbed  "The Tricontinental Defence Treaty" , just minutes ago, he knew that the leadership of assembled nations would have a long way to go, easing the public into the idea, securing the confidence of Military branch heads, acquiring the necessary funding pledges from each potential member, and most importantly, securing legitimacy in the eyes of the servicepersons that would backbone the alliance.

Most of the planning had taken places over secure links and covert meetings, every once in a while highlighted with state visits and drop careful hints to the press so as to ease public familiarity with the idea of a mutual defence pact. The gears had shifted. Emergent nations were coming out of isolation, as Iverica had not too long ago. A few allies that still could be counted on remained, the rest lost to disaster or revolutionary fire. It was important, that with the threat of evergrowing terrorist fringe groups, and wild-card states, that the few capable of a mutual, friendly, and communicable will for co-existence in the New World band together arm-in-arm against the entropy of a tumultuous, suddenly-shifting landscape.

Together with the remainder, the Iverican Government had been working on such a machine for that express purpose. Leaders from@Andalla,  @Girkmand, @Prymont, and @Variota had been contacted just yesterday for a meeting, this time, in person and all business, no cameras, no red carpet, just a priority meeting in a neutral location.

The idea was to sign before signing. A pact to make before public disclosure, so if--nay--when the New Age came coasting through with all its menace and rows of teeth, there waiting--cocked in grip--would be the three sharp points of a Trident.

OOC: THE TREATY:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/18Fw2I7Aps79jG0srx25xLUFnDeMIctOXWFYsgqSLMS0/edit?usp=sharing

OOC 2: A Pike is a fish, btw... Idk, maybe some people don't know what a damn Pike is okay

[Iverica]

SSO General Headquarters | 0900 IST
22nd January 2018
Intreimor

 

"Ah, Ricardo. Come on, come in."

The duty watchman shut the door behind Defence Minister Ricardo Ibanes. The room was lit in an almost chiaroscuro scheme, the light from the window to the side came in narrow white bands streaking diagonally across the room. The lamp of the desk added to the effect, illuminating the surface of the wide antique piece in a narrow and directed beam, all in all creating an almost dizzying effect of contrast that put a confusing array of light and shadow across the man seated at the end of the room.

In front of him, behind his immaculately organised mahogany desk, was the figure of a man in his early 50's. Salt and pepper hair, still a full head and groomed in a way that vaguely reminded Ricardo of actor Jorge Clouní. The lined face beneath it was one adorned with a pair of chilly grey eyes, which created an uncomfortable contrast with the wide, dimpled, genial grin that spread across a face which could have been considered welcoming enough in appearance to be paternal.

Despite his own seniority, Ricardo felt a certain air which radiated out of the seated man's look, manner, and posture. An almost arrogant familiarity, just polite enough to escape disdain, but forceful enough to suggest a depth behind the facade, one which could swallow a man like the undertow of the Thalassan currents.

"Director Bonda", addressed Ricardo, striding over to the seated figure.

The man rose, beams of light flitting off his silhouette. He uncoiled himself from his seat in a single smooth motion which conjured images of a krait rising from the grass. A single slat of light came to rest on his eyeline. The face, now sans the grin, was all stare.

The two men shook. Ricardo's hand came to meet a surprisingly gentle grip.

"I'm here about the memo Jaime", said Ricardo as he sat down.

"Of course, Defence Minister", Bonda leaned into his chair and clasped his hands together

"The so called "Circle of Death " splinter groups. The cases you sent me... movement in the Argic coasts and the Sakspati Sea. The most concerning of which is that your analysts conclude that they are planning a hijacking? Why hasn't the SSO acted? You've obviously invited me here to talk about this--so please, enlighten me."

"Ricardo, I have a killteam at the ready right now. We could just pick up this telephone, give them the green light right this minute, and the skiffs they plan to use for the hijacking will go under the water."

Ricardo opened his mouth to interject. 

"-But...", continued the Director-General of the SSO. "There is one thing I'd like you to consider before we make any move."

"Ricardo, you've discussed TRIDENT with me before. I gave you my full support with ExecMin. I've helped it every little way I could", Bonda gestured towards the newspaper on one corner of the desk. The headline read, "Committee Chairman Presumed Dead in House Fire". 

"Now, I want to help one more time."

"Go on."

Bonda gestured file on his desk detailing the expected motive of a crime group pinned to a recent case of boat theft and suspected arms smuggling.

"TRIDENT needs to be galvanised under a single great threat. A threat real enough to, say, reach out, and become real to the public."

"As it happens, the case in front of me is missing some hard links. But a motive is clear. In a matter of days, the cruise liner Dona Parass will be passing that cape. We have reason to believe that the intent is to seize the ship, kidnap, and plunder. Procedure dictates we conduct the investigation further until we get those hard links, then take care of it. By then it could be too late. I am currently playing with a choice, use my director's protocol to order a strike... or to simply--follow procedure.

"Defence Minister. Should I follow procedure?"

 

Edited February 27, 2018 by Iverica (see edit history)

[Iverica]

Dona Ellena | 1200
22nd January 2018
Mediargic Sea

 

It was highly unusual of course, meeting on a privately booked luxury liner in the middle of the Mediargic, but that was what they had available for clandestine emergency meetings like this.

Ferran-Arnau Macharius' transport and escort had landed in a nearby coastal @Girkmandian airfield and took a SUR-31 Cavall rotor lift from there.

Macharius was expecting a long wait, as this was an impromptu call, that gave his security detail time to re-check the vessel for any issues and rotate their corvette escort in better patrol routes.

The cruise ship, Dona Ellena, had been bought out under an SSO dummy account-holder name and given a SOCOM crew under strict OPSEC regulations. The ship now sat in a dead zone where no civil vessels were scheduled to pass or regularly passed anyway. The perimeter was then cordoned off under the justification of a "maritime accident" by several corvettes and a destroyer from Carrier Strike Group Deiargon, operating near the Verde-Sakspati Channel. 

After landing on the ship's helipad, Macharius proceeded to the conference room within the ship, being prepared for the Shadow-signing of the Tricontinental Treaty.

All he and his staff had to do now was prepare and wait.

OOC: No need for lengthy replies here with a ton of detail, this is all business lads. Just need to land and talk about or initialisation plans. For the New World, now or never.

Edited February 27, 2018 by Iverica (see edit history)

[Prymont]

Dona Ellena | 1300hrs
22nd January 2018
Mediargic Sea

 

The call to assemble had come somewhat unexpectedly, but had certainly caught Prymont off guard at that specific moment. Tensions had been rising considerably lately, especially in Argis around the old socialist states; throw in a rogue, isolated nation that still favoured slavery, and another that also liked slavery but was a bit more modern, and you had an international dilemma on your hands. Typically, this would require the utmost urgency from the President, but he was busy back in Prymont with... other matters. The Defence Minister, Hunter S Grey, was also tied up with more important issues, such as getting rid of his President and invading a hopeless country, so he was unable to attend too.

That left Peter Lafleur, Vice President of the United States of Prymont. Lafleur's term as Vice President had been very bland so far, the highlight of which was a discussion between several key global players in regards to the progression of artificial intelligence. Usually, his days were spent in his office, working with employees on constituency problems, attending speeches at universities and other political events, doing a bit of paperwork for Duval and twiddling his thumbs. The role of VP wasn't quite what Lafleur had expected or wanted, but he had a nice bank balance each month and he was building up a cushy pension. As far as he was concerned, there was no reason to complain. If being Vice President meant sitting in his office getting fat and talking to a few empowered students now and then, he'd be VP for life.

An emergency call came early in the morning, arriving at President Duval's desk alongside his third cup of coffee. With matters in The Hellenic Rus and at home escalating, he was too busy and had to divert his workload. The call was then sent to Lafleur, who eagerly arranged for the presidential Aamotech Fettstråle to prepare for take-off towards @Girkmand. From there, he'd take a leisurely trip to the coast, enjoy the sights a bit, and fly via helicopter the rest of the way until reaching a cruise ship that wasn't really a cruise ship. 

The morning flew by, and as the Vice President enjoyed his mid-flight lunch, emails were being sent to prepare him as best as they could. During the car journey to the coast, he read said emails, taking in the little information his assistants could gather about the meeting. The request had been brief and simple. There was a larger document, of course, but Lafleur didn't have time to read that - nor did he have the patience or want. Some assistant would probably explain it to him later, which was much easier than digesting it on his own. The helicopter flight was the shortest of all three modes, with his unmarked chopper landing neatly on the helipad of the boat. 

With his suit and hair blowing wildly in the pressurised wind of the blades, the chubby politician hurried indoors, mumbling greetings to agents and assistants he met along the way. Finally, he met with Ferran-Arnau Macharius, a lovely @Iverican chap who seemed to have organised this whole shebang. A firm handshake was exchanged and Lafleur took a seat, gladly taking the weight off his feet.

[Variota]

Tension was nothing new for Het Huisselant. While everyone saw it as a liberal paradise where life was great, which was mostly true, this was a status that had been had fought for multiple times. As many that had studied Het Huisselant's history knew, the first settlers weren't welcomed with food and drink, happily taken along to the chieftain whom also doubled as the only fat person among the tribesmen. Instead, the initial landing was one in which the settlers had to brutally murder and maim the tribe that inhabited the shores that they landed on with the tribe assuming that the strange white men and women were in fact the minions of some devil. Over the course of the Variotan early colonization, this became somewhat of a regular thing and in the years that Het Huisselant finally saw the beginning of stability, had led to the Variotan men and women receiving a bloody reputation and sought-after demand as mercenaries among the local Alharun powers. The Ferrefaaier-branch of the Museum of History even maintained a display of the harpoons used by the first settlers to defend themselves against the natives, one of the most popular displays among Laagher Party members and history buffs.

After that, there was the colonisation rush between Klan Reierfer and Het Huisselant, which was mostly sparked by the fact that Klan Reierfer had been founded out of people exiled or otherwise shunned out of Het Huisselant. Tensions had risen then as well, with small skirmishes happening along and in territories claimed by the two powers. The Battle of Mesijner's Floek, which saw a couple of hundred peaceful Variotan colonists murdered by a forty-men Reierfer death squad, was the changing point. Faced with full war with Het Huisselant, a land that wasn't really hated anymore by the newer generations and one that could afford better and more weapons, Klan Reierfer quickly folded. They quickly followed the advice in the old idiom, if you can't beat them, join them.

Even later, there was the illegal war against the Kommunes by Walensa and his Sons. Throughout these times, the Variotan spirit had hold high and the culture and morals of the nation were deemed, and reigned, supreme over the adversities found by the nation. Even today, in a time when nearby Argis seemed more like a powder keg than ever before and Hellenic Russian and Ahranan refugees arriving and seeking their own slice of paradise after the horrors that were their original home nations, Het Huisselant remained strong and prospered. Varinco's missiles and other arms, the great opportunities that a leader such as Dina Diva gave, the tourists that wanted a taste of the delicious sins possible in this land of plenty and much more made for a mix that made it near impossible for anyone to argue that Het Huisselant wasn't what it claimed to be, the Greatest Nation of Alharu.

Of course, even with this status, the government hadn't grown overly confident about maintaining the status without forming ties. So when the opportunity arrived in the form of establishing a military alliance between Het Huisselant and the other bastions of freedom and democracy, the choice had been quite simple. Between the letter arriving at Dina Diva's personal assistant and her executive order were mere minutes, the signatures of the other Heads of State of Het Huisselant took two hours. While her opponents deemed Dina Diva to be the epitome of the empty-headed reality television star, she was accomplished at speed reading and had managed to quickly spot that this was a thing that would be best left to someone without her own 24/7 camera crew. If crazy fans try to get you to sign adoption papers and what not, you learn to read quick and precise. No one wants a sudden basement-dwelling adopted son that tries to steal your worn underwear and watches you when you sleep.

Thus the task was passed to Minister Lopentlant, the Minister of Diplomatic Affairs. Reemy Lopentlant, however, was one of the few people that managed to get sick in both airplanes and boats. While he occasionally still traveled by airplane if it was really urgent, he did this while being heavily medicated. No one, luckily, thought that that was a good idea in this case. And thus, the task was delegated even further. As such, the two that would be representing Het Huisselant were to be the Minister of Defence and the Minister of the Armed Forces.

Retired General, which had been made into a honorific title within Het Huisselant in 1922 and it's English version in 1988, Aleiksander fan Gillofan-Lantboer kept the reigns over the Ministry of Defence, a fancy name for the place that kept Varinco and other select state-owned enterprises running and the multitude of militia's in check. A tall and commanding man who had been part of the special forces, Aleiksander had gained the respect of his men, fellow officers and superiors by personally overseeing and participating in anti-pirating operations in the 1970's, when a wave of rogue communist groups boarded Variotan cargo ships. In one of his most told stories, Aleiksander covered himself in blood before ambushing the pirates.

The sight of a two-meters long man covered head to toe in unknown blood, crazed eyes, shouting Variotan obscenities between shouting he'd get them and waving around a machete and a revolver made it so that those pirates surrendered within seconds and gained him the nickname Soon fan het Tuiffel (Son of the Devil). While official reports state that the blood was bovine in nature and taken along for this purpose in an experimental attempt to lower pirate morale and that there were five pirates on the ship, some old soldier stories state that Aleiksander managed to get onboard unseen and, in a drug-fueled rage and rampage, disemboweled a sixth pirate and covered himself in the man's blood. When the pirate's comrades came checking out what that hellish scream was, they saw a crazed Variotan soldier standing above the mutilated corpse of their friend and projectile vomited in such quantity that they were unable to fight further. Whatever the case was, Aleiksander remained somewhat of a legend among the older Variotan soldiers. Nowadays, however, the man was quite easy-going and just happy to do his part to aid the nation. His drug fueled days were over and the man enjoyed popping popcorn for his grandchildren more than popping pills with his grandchildren.

Henk Linkefaaier, the Retired General in charge of the Ministry of the Armed Forces, was somewhat the opposite of Aleiksander. Where one had begun wild and turned docile, Linkefaaier had begun docile and turned wild under duress. Starting as an intelligence officer working for the HAP, Linkefaaier rose through the ranks as the quiet one in the background, the one that was always there but never in the spotlight. His significant other, a corrections officer, was killed in 1998 during the Kaalebast Border Station Riot, when a large group of turned-down immigrants that were being deported tried to fight their way back into Het Huisselant. Linkefaaier, unable to cope with the loss and knowing that those responsible would not be deemed worth the trouble to find, used his connections and found the few that managed to flee into Variota during his leave and returned them to the proper authorities, heavily bruised, beat-up and without tongues.

While the general view within Variota was that his actions were more than understandable in his circumstances, with those that instigated the riot seen as the real and only criminals, Linkefaaier was still given his voluntary-but-really-mandatory retirement. After this, he was a participant in one of the first television programs in Variota in which, somehow important even if you did not exactly know why you knew them but you do sort of know and recognize them and their name is just on the tip of your tongue, people were followed during their attempts to beat their mental illnesses and/or traumatic events, in his case his loss and the following mutilation spree. His performance in the show gave Het Huisselant a soft spot for the soft spoken man, who quickly became a fixture whenever a club held a military-themed night. The former Foorste Heere fan'es Ferantwortelik fan'es Folke K.D. Lansevoort had appointed him Minister of the Armed Forces in the hope that Linkefaaier would continue on partying and leave the military to him, a hope that was shattered when Linkefaaier took on his new role with the same efficiency that he had as an intelligence officer. While Dina Diva could have pulled some strings and have him changed with her own candidate, she was someone that felt that when something works, why try to fix it?

---

The trip to the Dona Ellena had been quick and uneventful. The Ministers had taken a flight to Girkmand followed by a short helicopter ride to the Dona Ellena, much like the Prymontians. Of course, unlike the Prymontians, Het Huisselant had chipped in for a helicopter that was able to reach the cruise ship without having to drive to the coast. While some would have thought this to be due to Het Apparath advising against using the Girkmandian roads or some other matter deemed important to the safety of the Ministers, it really just came down to flights from Variota to Girkmand taking longer and the government not wanting to be the one holding the meeting back.

The two men ran inside the ship from the helipad, not wanting to stay too close to the spinning blades and general noise of a running helicopter. Arriving in the room where the meeting would be held, both had their coats taken by nearby support staff. Underneath, both were wearing their ceremonial uniforms. Aleiksander wore a black uniform with purple trimming, as customary for ex-special forces, while Henk wore a blue one with gold trimming, blue being the color for ex-support staff and gold depicting his status as having been part of the intelligence section of the HAP. While both had a number of medals pinned to their chest, as one would expect from generals be they retired or still active, Henk had notably less due to the fact that his only active combat experience was the bout of hunting down and cutting out the tongues of people that had led to his retirement.

Aleiksander seemed to take charge in regards to talking, Henk remaining silent to think better and only giving his opinion when needed.

''Retired General fan Gillofan-Lantboer, minister of Defence for Het Huisselant. This fine gentleman is Retired General Linkefaaier, minister of the Armed Forced for Het Huisselant. We are not sure what information got through, Minister Loopentlant was originally intended to go but could not do so due to health issues and as such, we have been selected to represent Het Huisselant among this fine ensemble of nations and people. Either Minister or Retgen will do. You could also attempt to pronounce Pensioen-Geen'raal but I know foreigners often have trouble pronouncing Variotan. It'd be fun to hear you try though, har har har!''
''Aleks, tone it down a bit. You're at a diplomatic meeting.'' (<--OOC: Just imagine this is written in Variotan.)

After an eye roll by Aleiksander that came over far more dramatic than it was actually meant, both shook Macharius' hand. Their seats were quickly found with a small detour to shake hands with the chubby Prymontian VP, Peter Lafleur.

[Andalla]

Dalsgård AB, Påderos[ 24 January 2018 - 0149 hrs ]

A Baywind B550 sped across the runway of Dalsgård Airbase. Officially, it was a quiet visit to @Girkmand by the Defense Minister, Bjørn Hagerstrøm. Nobody was concerned; they were told it was just a routine meeting with some Girkmandian officials.

As the jet rotated off the runway and into the sky, Hagerstrøm sat across his secretary who was reviewing the final plans for the signing. There was no time to lose. The jet would arrive in Girkmand, then Hagerstrøm would fly by helicopter to the @Iverican cruise ship Dona Ellena.

The atmosphere surrounding the Andallan military, and even the Andallan people, was getting worse every day. Though Andalla was located far out into the sea, tensions growing on the mainland and the founding of ATARA would create lots of friction. And the growing technocratic ideology in the @Sunset Sea Islands was making Andallans feel uneasy. It was no surprise, then, that President Johansen accepted the invite to a military alliance more powerful than any other in Andalla's little place on the world.

At the same time, who were they to mingle with such superpowers? To join the likes of such great militaries like Iverica, @Prymont and @Variota were truly humbling. Would the weak and defenseless Andallans really be accepted into the pact?

That was a question for another time. For now, all that mattered was the safety of the Andallan nation and its allies.

Edited December 18, 2018 by Andalla (see edit history)

[Girkmand]

January, 23. 08:00. Girk.

The news of the meeting traveled up the convoluted Girkmandian bureaucracy with utmost urgency. A speedy briefing was staged inside of the President's office with the Minister of Defense Victor Heinz, President Gerald Webb and Chief of Defense James Williamson all in attendance.

Growing tensions in Argis and abroad made a meeting like this inevitable: total collapse of order in the Hellenic Rus, dawning terrorist groups, @Derthalen's militancy and the recent communist takeover in @Ahrana were the root cause for many furrowed eyebrows among the upper echelon of the state. There was smoke, but no fire. Yet.

Consensus regarding the travel plans was reached quickly and the decision to attend was unanimous. Internal support for such a treaty was already practically guaranteed. The public would be sympathetic to the cause of keeping the worldwide status quo while protecting the integrity of Girkmand and its allies. Relations with @Iverica and other ATARA members were better than ever. The opportunity to strengthen those ties further could not be passed.

Defense Minister Victor Heinz arrived at Girk International Airport and boarded his scheduled flight to the coastal state of Luwidg from where he would continue to the meeting via helicopter.

[Iverica]

Dona Ellena | 0800
25th January 2018
Mediargic Sea

 

Capo General of the Armaté Servicio, Ferran-Arnau Macharius, strode into the conference room. It was his third day on the ship spent waiting for the full quorum of the TRIDENT's as-of-now shadow leadership. The impromptu event had been called on the shortest possible margin, so it was no surprise that some leaders, especially those farther away such as @Andalla had arrived late on the 24th.

Time had not, however, been wasted in the small gap period. Macharius, along with the earlier arrivals of Vice President Lafleur of the United States of @Prymont and the two @Variotan Ministers, General (Ret.) Gillofan-Lantboer and General (Ret.) Linkefaaier, had spent time going over the TRIDENT Charter Draft, and some possible projects for the organisation's initial steps.

@Girkmandian and @Andallan Defence Ministers Heinz and Hagerström respectively had followed. With Quorum, the session could begin.

---

"Generales, Ministeros, Seniore Vice President--I bid for a pleasant and productive morning", began Macharius as he strode into the room. A handful of aides slipped in after him, setting a few files on the large glass table taking up most of the oval-shaped room.

As was usual, Macharius was in his No. 2 Service Dress uniform. Grey, unlike his Marine blues, and decked with his usual array of service ribbons, badges, and commendations. He wore his decorations reduced, leaving out the ridiculous wall that many generals liked to flounce around like a harlot does her plump mammaries. 

 

Before him, arranged clockwise from his position, were the assembled military heads of four of Iverica's closest friends and allies around the Tricontinental area. He had met most a few times before, he had met the Variotan pair, Aleiksander and Henk, (mad púteros certainly, exactly the company he preferred over the snivelling, paunchy politiko) back when they had been in uniform, Hagerström, he had video conferenced on numerous occasions and met in a few maritime security conventions and pre-operation niceties, then there was Defence Minister Heinz, an old acquaintance from when the Mediargic was a... well, hotter locale. Vice President Lafleur however, made his lip curl. Another politi-cat getting fat on a job that existed to kiss babies and shake hands. Macharius would have greatly preferred seeing the old Hunter S Grey, now that was someone he could work with.

Regardless, he would have to put up with it for now. Lafleur was just a walking pen anyway, here to nod-off at the briefings, sign, and scurry back to his villa. 

Macharius placed himself at the head of the oval table, resting his fingertips firmly on the glass. Behind him, the aides had switched the projector on, distributed dockets, and lowered the remote white screen behind the Capo-General. In short order, they scurried out, quietly shutting the door behind them.

"Well seniores, I am deeply pleased that we are all together on short notice. I understand that many of you will have some pressing matters to get on with, so this will be a brief one. As you already know, all we will be doing is collecting some signatures, guaranteeing your positions in this organisation."

The projector transitioned from a blank intro page to a map of Argis.

"Terrorism, Foreign Threats... Communism", Macharius almost spat at the last word.

Behind him, red patches and arrows began to bloom and curl around the projected map. Malevolent growing orbs grew, swelling from the Canamo and Central Argis areas. Arrows snaked around from the slowly growing red, wrapping themselves around Argis before creeping, tendril-like towards Thalassa and Alharu.

"More than those, it is also a time of reawakening. This world is an ebb and flow, a cycle of isolation and globalism which springs and retreats with unpredictable implications. These are powers of old, of limitless arrogance, and with designs for this world that could set back everything the new has endeavoured to build if they so desired... and if--if, we stand divided."

"We have threats within and without. Some may argue that they have not bared their teeth at our homelands yet, some politicians would have us welcome them, become subjects, vassals, and lackeys to foreign empires and become host to the corrupting growth of Red that seeps from Argis' core", Macharius paused. Looking around the room slowly.

"They would have us become flotsam in the tides of change--and wreckage along the cutting rocks."

"You all understand this, that is why it is this gathering here today. Here to make the first motions towards a united solution."

As the papers were signed and the plans were laid, Macharius could feel a rush come to the top of his head. It was a rush of certainty, of confidence. Against this unity, what could they do? Iron linked together, side by side, the New World would not be defenceless, All three continents cocked in defence, three points braced---a TRIDENT ready to thrust.

---

OOC: Plans and other discussions will happen through private channels before anything gets released on-forum. This has been a preemptive signing of the Tricontinental Defence Treaty, for the purpose of confirming alignment and a pledge to contribute resources, efforts, and manpower for the cause of mutual defence.

OOC 2: They obviously didn't all fly over there just to here an extremely cheesy speech by an edgy general fellow. Trust that much was discussed behind closed doors.