Harald watched. No reaction from them, the two at the table, no, but instead a wave of tension had hit both of them. He didn't believe he looked threatening, why be on edge? He listened some more, hoping to hear some further inkling of their conversation. Strange indeed; his ears perked up at an interesting tidbit coming from the table. 'I'll tell you where we're going', huh. He brushed the thought once more from his mind; the chances of someone sharing in his objective were very slim. Yet the shrine on Alha had been disturbed. And they'd tensed up. And they were in the closest restaurant to the northernmost airfield in Tokulel.

A definite possibility, then, that was what he'd decided. What should he do? Press them? They were getting ready to leave. Follow them. he thought. But not yet. So he watched, taking his time to order some food when the waitress came around before struggling to complement it. His sister could probably speak their tongue. He tried harder to be discreet; but this is where his dropping out of the military helped him none. So he turned away, just as the redhead came back inside. She'd moved her car. Why? he thought to himself. Perhaps it could be of some use to him, or...

He shouldn't have been this confused, but he couldn't help it; he hadn't been given enough information to work with, and if he was wrong, he'd get a bullet to the face because of it soon. Hopefully, he wasn't wrong. He glanced again at their table. Ugh. Sit and wait. Just...sit and wait. And eat.

Evelyn blinked; today was looking to be tiring, and it was barely breakfast time. Her eyes drifted briefly to Cliff, examining him again. "Studying, eh, lingustics, is all." she mumbled. Ugh. Maybe she should have stayed in Weremark. She looked down at herself briefly, thinking idle thoughts about the kind of flooring that they used here as they approached the lunch-line. Energy was what she needed right now, that much was likely true, and as such she found herself going to the food bar first.  She poured herself a soup that looked like proper soup instead of appetizer water, threw on some bacon and goat cheese, the latter of which had been a welcome surprise, and grabbed some Pepen bread as well. The beans, however, she overlooked passionately - they were something that she had no intention of trying in her life. Does that make me closed-minded? she thought idly, glancing towards the table setup and taking her initiative further by sitting down next to a rather imposing blonde. Looking behind her, she checked to see if the Cascadian was still behind her.

This felt too much like high-school all over again. She was surrounded by far more teenargers than usual, that was for certain, but for her to feel this caged wasn't particularly normal. She needed to find some locals, perhaps they'd be better about the whole thing than the exchange students. Looking around, she could see that too many were dripping with wealth. Now, are all these people wealthy enough to be tolerably educated or wealthy enough to be intolerably uneducated? she thought to herself again.

Evelyn passively watched the man as he dropped his carry-on onto the opposite bed. Gods, was this man trying to flirt with her? Did they even have co-ed dorms here? Questions that perhaps didn't need answering right away. She peered at him closely, looking over the details of his face. He began to talk, and Evelyn figured that she should pay attention to whatever the man was saying.  About food? She shook her head. "Haven't a clue," she said.

"Jus' follow the crowd?" she suggested, peering at the cape lying on her bed and opting to replace her thick denim jacket with the cape. She had only a tank top underneath, and any passersby in the few seconds before she draped the cape over her shoulder would have glimpsed the hint of a tattoo on her left shoulder. Readjusting her glasses, she beckoned to Cliff, starting down the hallway.

It had come as pleasant surprise that nobody had tried to talk to Evelyn directly; it wasn't that she dreaded these sort of interactions, as she didn't, as much as it was that they typically devolved into some sort of info dump. Even these days she cringed at remembering the "two truths and a lie" game she'd had to play as late as freshman year of college - and often smiled at the memory, too, as she'd exploited them to everyone's benefit. The tour, however, suggested that Ahkabnil was a wholly different beast. When the woman who went by Ahwakon began reading off names, her eyes immediately drifted to that of the nameless Cascadian. Too early to judge anyone, of course (she'd learned that bit only in her early adulthood), yet he came from the closest to home. Perhaps it would be wise to gravitate towards him. And then there were the Achkaerinese, the two familiar faces she couldn't quite pin down. Perhaps daughters of politicians, back from when she'd been a kid? Her childhood years were a mess memorially, and that was probably for the better.

An accosting Ahkabnilian indeed did test her conversational skills in the moments after - and she came out of the interaction wholeheartedly believing she'd done a decent job. The tour's conclusion at the dormitories prompted Evelyn to immediately drift away from the rest and gravitate towards the farthest dormitory that she could find, nay, the one with the most pleasing view. Speaking to the others, and for the first time in any loud-ish capacity, she announced her intentions clearly.

"Right. Well, I reckon I'll take this 'un, here. Great view."

She spoke like a commoner - her natural inflection since Uni.

Though his head had earlier scanned along the room and failed to notice the glances coming out of one curious patron, Harald found himself rubbing his eye to satisfy a false itch once the that patron gravitated to another, this one a redhead, and started talking to each other. He unfortunately didn't catch their names, but what he caught instead was much more curious, and thrown in his direction. A comment about 'landing here', and in a language he could understand. How quaint. And how alarming, for if anyone had been observing him since his landing, it meant that there was a sliver of possibility that they either knew his identity and wanted him for ransom or some other bogus political reason, or worse still...they too were after the cradle, and onto him.

And though he knew it didn't neccisarily need to be a competition, the one other bull-race like this he'd gone through suggested to him that it tended to devolve into one eventually. The issue of gold always existed, of course, but more pertinent to him was the issue of fame. He had no use for gold; his father's charisma had set his whole family for life.

He looked them over. The redhead was young enough to be his sister. The other seemed a bit older, perhaps closer to his age. They didn't appear to have been together before just now, and he debated speaking up. Ah, fuck it.

"Talking to me?" he asked pointedly in their direction. If he truly needed to, he could pass this off as an error of miscommunication, and be on his way.

Ref: Terence Stamp	Jorik Narheim
Titles	N/A
Education	Ducal Court of Jylmark
Positions Held	Grand Duke of Jylmark (2005-2007) Oferhereleoder
Family	Karl Narheim (father) Ann Narheim (mother) Jarik Narheim (brother)
Links to Important events?	N/A
Biography	A seasoned war veteran, Jorik Narheim was the only member of his family to turn against the revolt headed by his father during the Civil War, and thus was the only one to reap the rewards of his actions at its end, becoming Grand Duke of Jylmark in 2005. This title was shortlived, however, as he soon killed his good friend Kaiser Markus Albrecht of Heimar in 2007 and kidnapped his daughter, having been on the run since. Many theories have floated around regarding the true nature of Narheim's actions, and nobody has uncovered the real truth as of yet.

Ref: Terence Stamp	Jarik Narheim
Titles	N/A
Education	Ducal Court of Jylmark
Positions Held	CEO of Ostrofracthandal (Eastern Freight Handling) Lefthereleoder
Family	Karl Narheim (father) Ann Narheim (mother) Jarik Narheim (brother)
Links to Important events?	N/A
Biography	Twin to Jorik, and barred from politics after his participation in the failed Revolt in 2003, this Narheim instead refocused his great familial wealth on business ventures, thus becoming one of the richest men in Weremark and CEO of it's largest corporation, Ostrofrachthandal, which handles most of the freight in the Gulf.

Ref: Ewan McGregor	Jory Hellhorn
Titles	Purported Head of NFA
Education	University of Altberg, others.
Positions Held	NFA Head Councilor (2003-2007)
Family	Unknown
Links to Important events?	N/A
Biography	A radical thinker out of Oltbjorgheim, Jory Hellhorn had already become infamous by the turn of the millenium for his controversial University lectures and blogs, but this snowballed when he declared the existence of the National Freedom Assembly, an anarcho-communist rebel group, in the wake of the Werman revolt, thus turning the conflict into a full-fledged civil war. Mysterious in his personal life, yet known for his unfiltered attitude, he cultivated a multitude of young fans around the time of the civil war. His exact location has remained a mystery since, though his methods have become increasingly violent, with a wave of terror attacks striking Weremark since.

Wermans living in Lakhzovia urged to leave, embassy recieves tightened security

By: Theodric Hori, International Affairs Correspondent

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Nakim, Lakhzovia - Tensions in Lakhzovia have prompted the Crown to greatly tighten security around the Werman embassy. As of the fifteenth, a myriad of openly armed Kyneshast guards have begun regular patrols within the complex walls, and those wishing to enter without a Werman visa have found it increasingly hard. The Crown even went as far as to issue an official statement ordering "all Wermans in Lakhzovia, former deportees or otherwise, to leave Lakhzovia immediately through our embassy, or otherwise risk imminent harm." Asked to justify the Crown's statements Friday morning, the King swiftly responded, having prepared a small except:

"I must preface this by stating the obvious: Weremark has no intent whatsoever of involving itself in this foreign squabble. However, we cannot risk the safety of our own countrymen and citizens. To have forces loyal to our host country attack another foreign embassy is precedent enough. With a conflict potentially developing, I felt indebted to act on this flashpoint before circumstances could shift any farther out of our direct control."

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WKF Athalaric to be recomissioned

By: Karl Varheliming, Crown Correspondent

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Blackhorn, Weremark - Recent shifts in Wahland-Aurora power dynamic have reportedly prompted top crown advisers to order the recommissioning of Weremark's only supercarrier, the WKF Athalaric, which has laid dormant in the Blackhorn supercomplex since mid-2006. When asked to justify the shift, General Jarl Karvic of the Kynesflota noted that "with the general uncertainty in the Gulf at the moment, the Crown cannot risk keeping its defences lowered, regardless of our recently improved relations; as the illusion of safety shifts in the Nevthronian Gulf, so must our precautions." Karvic further went on to note the increasing tensions worldwide, and the fact that Weremark may need to deploy aircraft anywhere in Northern Aranye in the future.

The WKF Athalaric was famously put into "long-term storage" in the aftermath of the Civil War; though diesel-powered, at full capacity the ship has been reportedly able to carry as many as seventy-five aircraft.

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Full Name of Country/Region: The Kingdom of Weremark
Representative Signing: King Dagmund Altberg
Continent: Cotf Aranye
First Language: Werman
Second Language: English
Additional Languages: Low Werman, Altbergish, Norse

Weremark's military is known as the Royal Host (Werman: Kynehast). The King of Weremark is commander-in-chief of the Kynehast, though power is delegated by sector army to lords based on geographical location and prominence. During peacetime, the Kyneshast employs around 90,000 in total. The main military branches employ around 78,570: 34,570 in the Royal Army, 26,190 in the Royal Navy, and 17,809 in the Royal Air Force (all including conscripts). The Disaster Relief employs 2,000 (including conscripts), and about 9,430 are employed in non-branch-specific functions such as the Kyneshast Command Group and Werman Military Intelligence. Furthermore, around 55,000 are employed by liege lords as militias or military police; these forces are typically transferred to active national command during wartime, though they are irregularly equipped and trained, serving as vestiges of the levy system.

The Kyneshast in its current form was codified in 2005, following the disastrous management of the levy system during the Werman Civil War. To prevent rogue lords, the military was centralized in a more traditional manner. The military's new direction has garnered some criticism, however, both the public and various vassals have voiced their support of it. The Kyneshast considers itself a warring military, regularly conducting training operations. In its current form, it saw combat in the 2007 Heimar Flashpoint, and against domestic terrorist groups in 2010 and 2012. Though the Kyneshast used to have international force projection capabilities, today, it is a largely regional force.

Approx 3km South of Meridian Island | 10/09/2017

A storm steadily approached as Harald Jensen ascended the path to the shrine. Silently examining the old thing, he pulled out his own journal - in it was a physical photo of the riddle, last placed there as a safeguard; he did have all his info on the cloud, but he couldn't risk losing it in a freak accident. His eyes drifted from the south-eastwardly direction of the dragon's stares to the own disturbed ground at the foot of the shrine. Old footsteps, but not too old, by the look of them. Modern shoe shape. Someone'd been here, did they know? He glanced at the dragons again. But it couldn't be in Weremark. Little cultural link to the myth there. Aurora? It was possible. Tokulel? It certainly was far enough, and in the right direction. He shut the journal briefly, gazing at the shrine.

This ordeal was a race now. Anyone remotely smart enough to come checking up here instead of Vafleon would know what this meant, and unless they'd been lead off to somewhere else, he had to get to Tokulel soon, if he wanted to keep the head start he'd thought he had. Swiftly he turned, heading to the plane he'd moored just off of the coast - the Wayfar.

---

Approaching Tokulel | 12/09/2017

He'd gotten an early start, only stopping briefly in Jylhaven for a recess with his father before continuing on his way. Now aboard the Wayfar was a whole pack full of varied clothing, a map with a GPS beacon to alert his father if anything went awry, and a solar charger for all of his electronics. Also included was a custom P08 Luger he'd 'borrowed' from Duke Magnus of Altberg along with two additional magazines. Owing to potentially skyrocketing rental car costs, and terrain, he'd also carted along his Zero FX bike.

This wasn't even his first disappearance in the week, but he knew this time, his father'd understand. He was at the cusp of something big, and he couldn't let anything jeopardize it now. The Wayfar had departed from Eldgammel Airfield in southern Weremark to the closest civilian airfield to the north Tokulel border. His phone buzzed a familiar orchestral ringtone, and he let it go to his headset.

"And what's up with you?"

His sister's voice was undeniably recognizable. "Ah, you got my message, great," he started, watching the GPS in his glass cockpit as his aircraft slowly but surely approached Tokulel. "I figured out the riddle, at least part of it. Remember the "night and day, united with the earth" part?" he asked, a response curtly droning back. "Uh-huh." Something was making her keep her voice down.

"I figured it out, it was on Alha. Small island near Meridian. It pointed me somewhere south-east, other shit's making me think it's in Tokulel. I still don't know what the rest of the riddle means, but-"

"Father told me, dipshit." the gasp of a smile forming had been audible enough even through the static. "Don't you dare get killed finding this thing, that'd fuck my whole future plans up. Especially considering..."

"I know, Evie." said Harald. "You stay safe in Ahkabnil. It can get pretty raunchy there." The voice on the other end attempted to say something but the response came out too muffled with static - likely owing to the thunderstorm in his wake. He sighed, "Shit," as he began the landing approach, waiting for his own confirmation.

"And you're on your way now?" the voice down the cellphone echoed. "Uh-huh." she quipped, staring down the narrow ramp from her jet to the main terminal. She was Evelyn Jensen, daughter to the newly elevated Grand Duke of Jylmark, Johannes Jensen fan Hailien. "Going into the main terminal now, yeah? Hear from you in a bit." she hung up, cutting off her father's obligatory "I love you, sweetie," or something along those lines. Tufts of light brown hair began to fall into her face as she bobbed up and down trying to get her bearings and read the signs - she'd learned Ahlabnilian two years prior for entirely different reasons. It felt refreshing for it to actually be useful for once; everything in Weremark was in Werman, and everything elsewhere was typically English. Still, she imagined she'd have to use both of those more often than she thought, even here.

Seeing what appeared to be a gathering of other young people, she drifted casually towards them, finding a spot and sitting down between two groups. Looking a touch older than her actual twenty suggested, she was pale, though not particularly so for a Werman. Her face was dotted with specks of light brown barely noticeable as freckles; on her left cheek was imprinted a rather large straight scar, and as a result, she'd piled on tonnes of dark eye shadow to draw some of the attention away from it. Her eyes, though now invisible due to her Wayfarers, were a deep green reminiscent of her father's, but her features weren't wholly his, having some clear influence from her mother, the woman notably absent from any internet search on Evelyn (or Johannes, for that matter). She wore a jean jacket and leggings, and stood at a slightly above-average height for non-Werman women. If caught at a bad time, she almost appeared to limp slightly favouring her left side, but perhaps it wasn't a limp more than it was a gait.

She'd only brought one bag - her clothes shopping would be done here, for the most part. She made no outstanding effort to attract conversation, but had fully prepared for it to happen to her anyway.

The palace of Hailia stood solitary at dusk on the 7th, the typically populated grounds now largely devoid of all functionaries. The king had called a temporary recess, owing to recent developments, and now he waited impatiently on the Floor 5 balcony for the man he’d invited.

The guest could elucidate the national state of affairs for him, he reckoned. His son was out of the country, briefly, and he felt his vassals and generals had never been more keen to hide in their own constituencies.

Punctual as usual, Johannes Jensen fan Hailien, the most prominent middleclassman in the Kingdom of Weremark, arrived driven by chauffeur, the sleek black sedan kicking up the first autumn leaves as it turned to enter the courtyard. The king turned away from the balcony and headed for the atrium. When Jensen approached him, the king had barely begun down the main staircase. Jensen extended a hand as his own bodyguard left through the front door, his client’s safety now assured.

“King Dagmund,”
“Jensen,” the king replied matter of factly, clasping Jensen’s hand and sharing in a firm handshake. “We have much to discuss, and in little time.”

“What do you mean?” asked Jensen, as they began to stroll down the steps together, as was the typical fashion for this sort of meeting. The king imagined that his people had been doing this for years; the stones on the lefthand side of the room had worn down from years of conniving.

“I fear we enter a troubled era,” began Dagmund, the shadows from the skylight falling on and off his bald head. Jensen stared, holding his tongue for now. “The Lakhzovian situation, that Oranian fellow warmongering, even Jory Hellhorn and his goons prancing our own damn forests, taking potshots at us.”

Jensen now felt the need to interject. “Surely two minor flashpoints worldwide and a relic of the past don’t constitute cause for alarm? Lakhzovia faces an ethnic war confined within its borders, and the Oranians have declared their intent to operate solely against communists. Hellhorn crashed a Golf GTI and ran into a forest. He’s no real threat.” he said the latter phrase with some pause, as he did have his own reservations about that situation.

The king stopped briefly, cocking his head ever so slightly to the left and peering at Jensen. He had expected a different response. “The larger picture, Jensen.” Shifting his hands behind his back, his legs began to move again. “You must look at the larger picture. You know well enough of my intent to bring Weremark back into prominence on the international stage. It’s why I sent Magnus to Rhand, and-”

“What’s your point, Dagmund?” Jensen interjected, as they entered the courtyard. “These are your problems to face. We may have fought together two decades ago, but since then, I’ve gone on to make speeches and teach in Altberg, and you’ve gone on to be the King of Weremark.”

“My point is, Hans,” the King began pointedly, “that I will need you. Yes, of course, you may speak of how we repelled two invasions together, or how I led the nation through civil war, but that’s just a farce. What have I done since? Weremark has laid stagnant for the past fifteen years.”

“We’re a kingdom, it’s twenty-seventeen. We’ve been stagnant for far longer than that.” Jensen exhaled, his breath forming a puff of white. “Are you intending to vent now, Altberg? I have enough of that from my daughter.”

“Careful,” the king’s voice lowered. Jensen was playing with fire. “You speak to a king.”

“A king, yes,” Jensen wringed his wrists, appearing as perhaps knowing that he’d gone too far. “A king who’s vacated his palace to speak to a lowly commoner.”

They stopped at an archway typically used for weddings. Dagmund could only imagine how the situation must have appeared to the gate guards behind them. His current strategy wasn’t saving them any time; perhaps it was better to be upfront about the whole thing. Jensen was smirking now, watching him contemplate.

“I want you to advise me directly. So, I want to give you Jylmark.”

Jensen remained stern, but the king could see that bewildered stare in his eyes. The same bewildered stare he’d seen when elevating cops to guards and guards to generals. “In the stroke of a pen you’d make me the second most powerful lord in all of Weremark?”

“Yes.” the king nodded curtly.

“I’m not a monarchist,” Jensen stated, knowing the king knew.

“Believe me, we all know. It doesn’t change my offer. Despite your composure today, I believe you deserve it, Jensen. You’re a smarter and better man than nearly the whole lot of pissant lords in my kingdom. Just, don’t take me for a fool. I don’t intend to give up my birthright simply because you’d suggest it. I just mean to rule better.”

“Fine.” Jensen lagged slightly behind as he spoke, the corners of his mouth curling upward. “That I can do.”

Prince Magnus set to leave on diplomatic trip to the Kingdom of Rhand

By: Theodric Hori, International Affairs Correspondent

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Hailia, Weremark - The King announced today that his son, Prince Magnus Altberg, Duke of Altberg, is set to leave to the Kingdom of Rhand to represent Weremark at the
Beatification Ceremony for Crown Prince Laurenz Hajioff. According to the statement, Prince Magnus had earlier expressed interest in superseding his father's responsibility of traveling overseas. Though Magnus has not officially replaced the king, this trip may indicate that his wishes are coming to fruition. In a recent interview, Magnus seemed optimistic, stating "It's a tremendously exciting opportunity, and yes, I do hope to be doing more of it in the future, though never to the point that it'd jeopardize the time I plan on spending with my family."

Magnus denied any and all allegations that this potential superseding is due to a change in the King's health. He is due to be out of the nation for around a week, but is to return in time for several planned events. This is Magnus' seventh excursion past Werman soil, and the first to leave Cotf Aranye.

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 Ongoing firefight in Wusterns forest

By: Olivar Valheiming, Domestic Terrorism Correspondent

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Wusterns, Weremark - A rush of military vehicles barreled past the Jylmark-Wusterns border today as a firefight appears to have erupted deep within the Horenwald, about seventy kilometers north of Wusterhochstadt. The news came concurrently with the Crown's announcement that it was to refocus efforts on counter-terrorism ahead of schedule. A joint force of Jylmen and Wusterners has locked down several kilometers of dirt road in an attempt to keep the incident contained; no casualties have been reported as of yet. The firefight comes less than twelve hours after a bombing at a humanitarian site also in Wusterns left three dead and twenty-four injured. Crown sources have declined to comment on whether the incidents are related; nevertheless, nobles have openly speculated about NFA involvement in the matter, with some even calling for an open state of high alert in response to the attacks.

The Horenwald is a nearly 400km² forest and under the direct dominion of the Duke of Wusterns, who has occasionally used it as a hunting ground and military training area. While it is unknown at this time exactly why the incident appears to have occurred deep within a secluded forest, many have expressed relief at the lack of an attack on civilians today.

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Short name: Weremark
Full name: The Kingdom of Weremark
Capital: Hailia
Population: 17,046,225
GDP per capita*: 5424.23
Literacy rate (%): 99%
Unemployment (%): 24%
Tax**: 44%
GDP allowed to the military (%)***: 4.95%
Population density (x/km2): 31.13
Name of your national currency: Royal Eagle (or Eagle)
Symbol of your national currency: ɇ
Value of your national currency when converted to USD: 0.092
Three main exports of your nation: Clothes, Furniture, Weaponry
Three main imports of your nation: Construction Materials, Vehicles, Electronic devices