Captain of the West Port Jerican Guard

You know, now that I think about it, my Lieutenant doesn’t have the legal merit to declare war… Maybe I do have to give the speech. Dang it! I have already vomited the lines from my mind. I hate technicalities…Oh, who cares? The delegates will have other things to worry about.

I watched with great glee from a small balcony overlooking the dance hall as my young Lieutenant led a young lady to the stage. She was very attractive, I might add. Dark hair, young face, a slender, yet able build; she was certainly not Bartholomic or Tribal; maybe a little bit northern. She seemed to be a muttery of several nationalities, but enough of that.

I feel so much better now. Everything is going exactly according to plan. My men are in position, Bart’s Land Thingys will begin their siege when war has been declared, and hopefully my Jerican patrols have cleared our escape route through the sewers.

Wait… Franklin is telling her something… I wonder what the rascal is up to. Franklin pulled his head back and the girl blushed a magnificently reddish color. He then leaned close again and told her something else. Wow! I have never seen skin color change so many tones. The poor girl is as white death. I giggled a bit to myself and watched as the young lady raised what looked to be a trombone.

Now if I may go off on a bit of a tangent, Trombones are a West Island instrument. They are not a usual sight in a formal performance, but I guess West Port is supposed to be a little bit more open minded.

Actually the girl did look a little bit Islan-… Nevermind, She doesn’t look Islandish in the slightest.

My lieutenant seemed to be getting a little bit short tempered with the girl. She put the trombone down and they shared a short exchange of words. I took a small sip of beverage and when I looked up the young lady had fled the stage. I heard some laughs and remarks coming from the audience, but I could not see what was happening in the back of the stage.

The lieutenant and the girl soon reappeared as dear Franklin led her out of the room through a small door that had written on it “Off Limits”. Hang on a bit Frank, you aren’t supposed to take any of the guests through there. What? Do you think you are going to take the girl with us? Yes, a stunning character, but please. Where did my master of protocol go?

Lieutenant Franklin returned through the door and walked onto the stage, a small piece of parchment in his hands. He hushed the crowd and began to read from the paper. I could have just read it. Oh, how silly of me.