"One nation's common sense is another nation's high blood pressure." - E.B. White

--

Cabinet Office, 70 Whitehall, London

First impressions were important, it was a saying was so prevalent throughout British society that even nursery children would know to be on their best behaviour when meeting somebody for the first time.

Two days had passed since Foreign Minister Rinsui's arrival in London and already his team had established themselves in the building that had once housed the embassy of Zimbabwe.

At both their request, as well as the encouragement of both the Ministry of Defence and Foreign Office, Rinsui and his countrymen had been taken on a tour of the Greater London Area to see the sights, learn more about British people, culture and history, and most importantly to learn its industry and military.

Certain outspoken individuals in the cabinet had protested at the decision, with some claiming it wasn't right to shock or frighten their visitors with such strange technologies and information so soon, while others didn't feel comfortable with letting foreigners from an unknown world learn of Britain's capabilities.

Both were right in their own ways.

But Stewart knew that his country's transportation-- or 'summoning' as he had since been told the natives referred to it as-- presented just as many opportunities as it did hardships.

On Earth, the United Kingdom was bogged down with diplomatic commitments, historic precedents, and even its own history. 

In the New World, there was the possibility of a fresh start.

Further reconnaissance flights, alongside interviews with Qua-Toynian diplomats had revealed the presence of two other countries on the Rodenius Continent; the Quila Kingdom & the Louria Kingdom, the latter of which having been described as a hostile entity towards the Principality.

(Their visitors hadn't stopped telling them about the Lourians since they'd arrived, in-fact.)

Highly prejudiced against this world's non-human sentient species, or 'demihumans and beastmen' as the Qua-Toynian Foreign Minister had so elegantly put it, Louria had been described by all of the visiting diplomats as an imperialist, militaristic society.  

According to the information they had collected thus far, both they and the Quila Kingdom were at a similar stage of technological and cultural development to Qua-Toyne.

And while Stewart was well-aware that their newfound neighbours would be inherently biased in how they described Louria, aerial photographs captured by the RAF did show large formations of troops gathering on what the British government now recognized as the Principality's border.

The Minister of Defence had described it as an invasion force when he'd seen the pictures.

The Prime Minister hadn't disagreed with him.

In response to the images, a think-tank of defence analysts, military brass and even several historians had been hastily put together by the MoD to assess the Lourian Army's capabilities, size and overall strength.

Their findings had been encouraging to say the least.

Comprised only of infantry and cavalry, the Lourians fought primarily with swords, spears and bows, a majority of their troops appeared to lack armour, the few that didn't were estimated to only be wearing primitive chainmail and steel, while their only air power, a flying species the Qua-Toynians had identified as Wyverns were only about as manoeuvrable as a Chinook.

Any conflict between the United Kingdom and Louria would be immensely one-sided.

Although given their uncertain domestic situation, with the markets frozen, private cars temporarily banned to conserve fuel, and the Emergency Powers Act still in force, war was the very last thing anyone in either the cabinet or parliament would want.

And this wasn't even mentioning what the public would think of the proposition..

Over the past forty-eight hours, meetings had been held at the Qua-Toyne Embassy virtually non-stop, at each of which the two sides fought to focus on what they prioritised more.

For the Qua-Toynians it was the topic of mutual defence and their aggressive neighbours, while for the British it was information and trade.

Needless to say, negotiations had been going slower than either side had wanted.

Although they hadn't been entirely without benefit.

With the permission of their neighbours, a joint-venture between the Department of Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy and various private sector representatives had been dispatched to Qua-Toyne under armed guard to perform geological surveys on their land.

Much like the MoD's analysis of the Lourians, these results too had so far been encouraging.

Qua-Toyne was not only wealthy in regards to its fertile soil but in minerals as well.

Along its southern border with Quila, beneath a vast mountain range that separated the two countries, deposits of rare earth elements had been found, the life blood of modern civilization.

Stewart's advisors had been quick to inform him following the report that downplaying their importance would be vital in securing them at low cost from the Qua-Toynians.

And much like MI6's plot to covertly gather information, the idea of lying to their new neighbours didn't quite sit right with him, though rationally it wasn't as if the locals needed them anyway..

Broken from his train of thought, the Prime Minister was taken back to the present by the Home Secretary, who proceeded to go on with her discussion of potential oil reserves in Quila and the detection of pollution from other continents.

He really needed to get more sleep, perhaps it'd stop the daydreaming.

--

Prime Minister's Residence, Qua-Toyne City, Qua-Toyne Principality

To say Prime Minister Kanata was stressed would have been an understatement. For more or less the entirety of the past two days he had been in-and-out of meetings with his councilmen, the threat of Louria's imminent attack becoming too much to bare for many.

While progress with the British over that same time span had been far too slow for his liking.

It felt like every hour now he was receiving information of even more Lourian troops arriving on the border, bolstering their already gargantuan force. 

As recently as a few hours ago, the commander of the Gim garrison had manacommed the capital stating that vanguard Lourian units were moving into an offensive posture.

And his defence staff's prediction for the time of the invasion had dropped from several days to just several hours from now..

Yet, it seemed all the British wanted to discuss was the logistics of delivering strawberries!

Sighing as he sat in the chair behind his desk, Kanata pinched the bridge of his nose, disappointed at his internal frustration even if there were none to witness it.

Patience was what he was known for, it was what most Elves were known for. But it was not something the Principality had the luxury of embracing given their circumstances.

Foreign Minister Rinsui-- who was still in London-- had been routinely sending reports back to him through an advanced form of manacom the British called a telephone, one had been installed in his office by them for the express purpose of hastening communication between the himself and his representatives and counterparts in the United Kingdom.

Towering glass structures, horseless carriages, hulking iron land dragons that could destroy an opponent from several Principality-grade farmlands away.

Admittedly much of what Rinsui had told him had been difficult to believe at first, but upon his request to the newly established British embassy for verification of the Foreign Minister's reports, he had been provided with 'photographs' which confirmed it all.

(The mere existence of photographs had been proof enough of how strange these people were.)

The images had only served to justify his belief that the United Kingdom was the only chance his people had to survive this war.

Once he had distributed them to the rest of his cabinet, and the governors of the Principality's various provinces, caution surrounding diplomatic ties with the British had all but vanished, namely those that Rinsui himself had once held.

Releasing another sigh, he reached over his desk to tap a button on the manacom which sat next to his new British telephone, his eyes turning up to the door at the other end of his office as moments later, his personal assistant entered the room.

She was an older human woman with slightly greying hair who had spent most of her life conducting the much-needed bureaucracy that kept Qua-Toyne running. Her name was Anako.

"You needed me, sir?" She asked politely.

"How goes the British expedition to our southern border?" The Elf asked.

The dispatch of that group, made up of experts on the ground and what laid beneath it, he had been told, was perhaps the only thing of note to have thus far stemmed from their negotiations.

It may also have been a foot in the door for what Kanata really wanted.

Security.

"Apparently they chose to set up their camp just outside the mining town of Kandern. The local magistrate told me they've been surveying the mountains and their surrounding area all day." 

"Have they found anything?" He questioned.

"Not that I, or the magistrate know of, unfortunately. Would you like him to ask on your behalf, sir?"

Kanata shook his head with a dismissive wave. "No, that won't be necessary." He knew well enough that those men (and women, surprisingly) likely had their own 'telephones' and would transmit any findings of value directly back to their leaders in London.

Asking what they were looking for specifically had the danger of making the British uneasy, it was better for the time being to simply let them go about their business, and hopefully manage to acquire some indirect benefit from it.

"I understand, sir. Is there anything else you require of me?" The woman asked.

"No, that will--" Kanata started, ready to dismiss his assistant, when a sudden and very peculiar idea struck him, though its morality was quickly flagged by his conscience as concerning.

"Sir?" His assistant spoke, having noticed his abrupt pause.

"How close to the Lourian border is the British expedition?" Kanata's words were quick, almost excited.

"Well.. They're just outside Kandern, which is roughly fifty or so miles from Louria, it's one of the closest points to where Quila and Louria could meet." Anako explained.

Fifty miles was far, but workable. 

"Could we get them closer, perhaps?" Kanata asked, though he was more questioning himself with that possibility than his assistant, who merely raised a brow at his somewhat quiet words.

"Sir?" She uttered again.

"Oh, nothing. My apologies, continue to update me on the expedition's on-goings, and clear my schedule for the rest of the day, unless our neighbour invades, of course." 

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and it was now or never.

--

HMS Albion, Joint Expeditionary Force, South Parpaldia Sea

"Do you think we'll have to fight orcs, Major?"

Major Lewis Raeburn of the Royal Marine Commandos only had to slide a brief, unapproving glance to his subordinate-- the ever inquisitive Corporal Walsh-- to shut him up.   

The two multicam-donned men were stood on the rear deck of the Albion, located just off the coast of Qua-Toyne, beside them the Merlin HC4 helicopter they'd be sat in the back of in the event the expedition in Qua-Toyne needed assistance was being subjected to maintenance by its crew.

Orders had come straight from the top to have them on stand-by the moment the civilians and their RAF Police escort had departed for the continent.

Walsh and the rest of 42 Commando Lima Company didn't think much of it, they'd been briefed on the woefully limited capabilities of both Qua-Toyne and their Lourian neighbours.

To them the idea of anything from the outside world posing a legitimate threat had been quelled by the revelations they'd been made aware of over the last few days.

Raeburn on the other hand-- a veteran of two tours in Afghanistan-- knew that technology wasn't always everything.

It never hurt to be vigilant, but it did to be arrogant.

"You have to admit, though. It might be a possibility." Walsh spoke up again, perhaps he'd seen his superior contemplate and had taken that as a sign he was willing to discuss this new world.

"It might be, Corporal." Lewis finally replied, arms folded and not terribly pleased to be in this conversation to begin with. He wasn't sure whether that was due to the distraction of such an inane topic, or the genuine concern that fighting once-fictional creatures brought.

The Qua-Toyne Principality's head of state was an Elf, ears and all. 

In the country itself, the recently opened British embassy had reported several dozen new species in its first day of operation alone, many of which were sentient and civilized.

Thus far Orcs had not been among them, something the Major was thankful for, even if he'd never admit it.

Raeburn had made his opinion more than clear to his own superiors when he and his company had been told about the expedition being approved. They still knew little about this world, and sending civilians to foreign territory even under military protection was not a wise decision.

"These decisions are above your pay-grade, Major." The Lieutenant Colonel had told him.

Otherwise known as the polite version of, "Shut your mouth and do your job." 

"You think we could take one down?" Walsh asked, clearly caught up in his own ponderings about their new reality. Raeburn sighed, but quietly.

"If we couldn't this entire planet would've been conquered by them already, Corporal." The Major replied, an obvious analysis to make given their closest neighbours wielded bows.

The marine next to him hummed, accepting the theory's logic. Raeburn himself had already heard this same conversation play out dozens of time since the first reconnaissance reports had came in. It was becoming tiresome in all honesty.

Looking out to the horizon in-front of them, the Major lightly frowned as a question of his own began to form in the back of his mind.

"Why was it only us?" He asked suddenly, catching the Corporal, who himself had been engrossed in the view, off-guard.

"What do you mean, Major?" Walsh questioned, curious and eager as his superior wasn't ordinarily one to give much back in these interactions.

"This.. Thing. This event. Why did it only happen to us?" Raeburn took a few steps away from the helicopter and towards the railings that looked over the clear blue ocean the Albion was currently transiting through, Walsh followed and both men walked at a relaxed pace.

"You're asking the wrong guy, Major." The Corporal chuckled, the pair reaching the railings and leaning forward to rest their arms on them.

"Think of it. Gibraltar's only a hundred miles east of here, right off the coast of the continent. our base on Cyprus is in the middle of a new ocean. We've even heard from the bloody Falklands! It was specific to us.. Our country." 

He looked to his side, and watched with only slight disappointment as Walsh shrugged.

Now he wants to be quiet. Raeburn thought with some bitterness.

"It doesn't matter." He conceded with a sigh, throwing a small wave to disregard his own question. "Smarter blokes than us are probably figuring it out." 

The marines stood at the railings for another few minutes, with only the ambience of the Albion cutting through the ocean beneath them, the frequent whirring of machine tools being used on the helicopter behind them, and the occasional bird's call from above to accompany their thoughts.

That was until Walsh spoke up once more.

"You think we'll have to fight a Hobbit?" 

--

Expedition Camp, Outskirts of Kandern, Principality-Quila Border Region

Forty geologists of varying specialized fields and twenty five members of the Royal Air Force Police had set up their base of operations at the summit of the Great Rodenius Mountain Range.

Having arrived just over twenty seven hours prior in the back of a CH-47, their camp was little more than a hastily put-together collection of field tents, survey equipment and porta-potties.

The civilian half of the group was a melting pot of civil servants, university scholars and corporate-hired experts, while their military counterparts were light infantry only.

Catherine Wu had been given informal authority over the civilians. A graduate of St. Andrews University, she'd worked for a number of companies over the years, including BP and Mobil before moving into the government's Department for Business, Energy & Industrial Strategy.

A highly qualified geologist who had spent the majority of her career pursuing petrochemicals, she had been in the process of applying to become a professor at Oxford before the summoning.

To say her life plans had since been altered would have been putting it lightly.

To be one of the first people from Earth to traverse this entirely new and foreign continent was an honour among honours, and if it hadn't been for the summoning's more adverse consequences (a second generation Hong Kong immigrant, much of Catherine's family was not in Britain at the time) this would have been by far the most exciting point of her life.

Sat at a table in one of the camp's several tents, she had been in the middle of mud logging samples from the borehole the expedition had dug in its first few hours after arriving when one of her team members grabbed her attention from the tent's entrance.

"Catherine, we've got visitors, they say they're from the local government." The man, Seth said, swiftly capturing Catherine's curiosity as the dark, pony-tail haired woman got up from her seat and broke into a fast walk out of the tent, past him.

"The soldiers are talking with them now!" He called out behind her, though she didn't take the time to gaze back at him, entirely focused on meeting these locals as she made her way across the expedition's camp. 

Up to this point, only their military escorts had been allowed to interact with the native population, something which had irritated many of the civilian staff to no end.

Ahead of her, a moderate distance from the furthest out tent of the camp's arrangement, she could see those armed men in camouflage speaking to another, larger group on horseback.

It was remarkable to see how different their clothes, hairstyles and even appearances were from her own. One of the native men even had a set of Elf ears! 

Approaching the two conversing groups, one of the airmen turned to face her, extending his hand to keep her slightly back from whom they were speaking to.

"In-fact, here she is now." Catherine heard one of the other airmen say to one of the men on horseback, his more elaborate and decorated robes indicating he was a man of status, and likely in-charge of the group. 

"Me?" Catherine asked, taken aback that they'd been discussing her to begin with.

"You, madam. You are one of your group's more learned intellectuals?" His accent was strange, but distinctly noble-sounding, and much like the news had said days ago, he, like all the natives here spoke perfect English.

She wasn't sure what to say. 

"I am." She confirmed after what felt like a while but was likely only a moment or two.

"Excellent, you and several of your cohorts are to ride with us at once." The man, noble, lord, or whatever his title was spoke with a confidence that to Catherine in this moment was seemingly unearned, but the airmen didn't deny him.

"Why? And on who's authority?" 

"Our two governments, madam. Your soldiers here will confirm my story."

Catherine looked towards the airmen that surrounded both her and the locals on their horses, she recognized one of them as Flight Sergeant Peters, the ranking man among them.

"We got a call from London, the Qua-Toynians say there's a deposit of 'glowing rocks' near the border with Louria, they don't know anything about them, but thought we'd be interested." 

Glowing rocks? She thought, any number of minerals could fit that description.

"And the Department gave permission for this? I mean.. Aren't those people.. The Lourians preparing for war? They even briefed us about it." The airmen in-particular hadn't stopped drilling it into their heads that this country could become an active warzone at any time.

"They did, but I'll be sending some of my men with you for additional security." Peters replied.

That information only made her feel marginally better about the idea. "How far away is it?" She said with a slight sigh, still concerned but accepting the possibility that those 'rocks' might be important, and that the airmen were capable of protecting her even away from the camp.

"Not far, madam. It is but a mere half a day's ride from your camp." The nobleman on horseback chipped in, his tone taking on a chivalrous air about it, undoubtedly prideful in his ability to soothe a distressed maiden, or whatever it was someone from this world would think.

Flight Sergeant Peters spoke up once more, "It's only two hours by jeep, Ms. Wu, and we'll give you a vest and helmet, just in-case."   

The doubting (logical) voice in the back of Catherine's mind still persisted, their camp was close enough as is was already to the Lourian border.. 

But what if it's important.. What if it's something new. Another, more romantic, inquisitive voice in her mind suggested.

"Alright. I'll go.. But I want the naming rights to anything new we discover when we get there." 

--

 Fort Mohan, Gim Township, Principality-Louria Border Region

"We're under attack!" 

Captain Moiji was roughly woken from his sleep with the sound of yelling, and the battering of heavy boots across wooden planks. 

The sun had only just started to descend when the Lourian attack had begun, and the Captain-- exhausted from days of anticipation-- had been attempting to get his first proper sleep in what felt like forever.

Alas, their southern neighbours had likely planned for this.

Haphazardly throwing himself out of his bed, Moiji almost fell flat on his face as he stumbled around the darkness of his private quarters, only needing to put his outer plates on as by necessity's demand he had been sleeping with chainmail already on for the past several nights.

But even strapping those steel plates across his torso and legs felt like a herculean task as the haunting sound of Wyvern flames and war cries filled the ambience of what was beyond his room's walls. 

Finally getting the last of his armour on with a final effort, he slid on the pair of boots that sat beside his door and emerged to the Fort's central courtyard, the sky above him already starting to disappear behind a thick blanket of smoke and fire as countless Wyvern knights rained destruction down upon his fort and his men.

This was going to be a slaughter.

"Sir! The Lourians are invading!" A panicked, young voice cried to Moiji from his side.

"I can see that! Are our Wyvern squadrons in the air?" He yelled, the roaring, screaming and general sounds of a quickly accelerating conflict effortlessly making it difficult to hear for him to hear even his own thoughts. 

"They are! They took off as soon as we saw their smoke signal go up!" The boy replied, Moiji thinking that he barely looked old enough to work on a farm let alone wield a sword as he turned to face him, finally laying eyes on one of his youngest knights.

And if it was going to be a slaughter, then at least they would not go down quietly.

"Relay a message to the mages! Tell them to intensify the winds! Keep them blowing against the Lourian advance!" The Captain roared out what would be the first of many orders.

"Yes, Captain!" The young knight disappeared, lost just as easily in the misty smoke that had filled the Fort just as he was in the hordes of armoured bodies that swarmed around the courtyard.

He knew that by now the few whom remained in Gim had been given the order to evacuate, and that the objective of his men was to now simply buy them enough time to escape.

It may not have been the most glorious of deaths, but it would certainly be honourable.

Charging his way through his own men, many of whom were still in the process of getting their own armour on, or finding and retrieving their weapons. Moiji made his way to the top of the Fort's thick stone walls, and found himself confronted with a sight of carnage.

Before him, thousands of Lourian infantrymen approached his walls with haste, invigored with a lust for battle and driven by the confidence instilled from their air superiority.

In the sky above-- itself so coated with smoke that when combined with the setting sun, it appeared blood red-- many of his Wyverns had already been shot down, their riders fighting to the end, though some remained, continuing to distract the bulk of the hostile Wyvern force.

Behind him, the town of Gim was still in its exodus, most who could leave had already done so over the past weeks and days, and those who still remained were the elderly, or impoverished.

He knew that the his enemy's initial Wyvern attack, which had already set portions of both the Fort as well as it's surroundings ablaze, had largely been intended to soften his position for the oncoming infantry, even if-- excluding his own Wyverns-- it would have been easier to kill them all from the air.

The Lourians were bastards like that. They loved a good, 'glorious' melee battle.

"Men, prepare the oil! Archers, to your kill holes!" Another voice from next to Moiji hounded.

It was his Lieutenant, the younger man he had so apparently tried to depress with his own cynicism only a few days prior. His face was full of determination, his eyes alight with a passion only a younger Moiji would find familiar.

"Excellent work, Lieutenant." He commended the man, passing him an approving nod. "I have no doubt they'll attempt to breach the walls. We'll be ready for them when they do." 

"That's if their Wyverns don't finish chewing on our boys up there and burn us all to a crisp first." The Lieutenant replied, an endearing smirk emblazoned on his expression.

"Looks like I managed to teach you something, after all." The Captain chuckled, taking his sword from its sheath, the pair of armoured knights bracing themselves for their final stand as archers took up their positions and footmen carried heavy defensive equipment to the edge of the walls.

They would all die as heroes, but if the Principality was to fall.. Who would remember them?

--

Author's Notes:

Let the games begin.

The Lourians have commenced their invasion! Yet, it seems the British have little consideration for their neighbours. Fortunately, our favourite Elf has composed a plot in hopes of forcing their hand (and showing them just how villainous the Lourians can be.)

Next chapter will revolve around the attack on Gim proper, the implications for Catherine and her team, and the British response to this unprovoked attack.

Over the past several days I've been having a number of interesting ideas on where to take this story in the future, including with the Parpaldian arc, so I'm definitely looking forward to getting there at some point.

Like always, thank you all for reading and if you could favourite & comment to show your support, it genuinely helps in encouraging me to continue, as I know people are actually reading and enjoying it. 

Thanks!