The date is<span style="font-weight: bold">January 1, 1946</span><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://www.creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=20&amp;t=41036">[OOC]</a><br/><br/>...<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Delhmar Republic, Cortona, Prime Minister's Residence</span>[1/1/46]<br/><br/>Delhmin Prime Minister Jerrick Armedsun read his morning paper and drank a bloody mary. Last night's festivities had not been kind to him. New Years was one of the few times the Delhmin Prime Minister could celebrate. A stack of security briefings detailing the situation up north sat on his desk unread, accompanied by reports and forecasts from other executive departments.<br/><br/>They could wait until after lunch. The Prime Minister had a lot on his mind already.  This year was an election year. Hopefully it would himself who was elected to a second term. Jerrick had the favor of the majority Delhmar National Party. He simply had to keep it. During his term as PM the country had been relatively peaceful and the economy had been stable. The only discontent came from the Organization for Northern Freedom in the mountainous northern areas of the republic. They were nothing more than insurgents who hated the Republic to him.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Delhmar Republic, Cortona, Section 4 HQ</span>[1/1/46]<br/><br/>Across town from the Prime Minister, a less peaceful scene was unfolding. Two Section 4 agents looked over a shirtless, bloodied man in a dimly lit room. He sat handcuffed to a bare wooden chair. One of the agents carried a folded length of rubber hose and stood directly over the man. The other stood by the door and simply watched.<br/><br/>"So, I'm going to ask you this again. Who is Crown?" asked the agent holding the rubber hose.<br/><br/>"I don't know" replied the man weakly.<span style="font-style: italic">Thwack!</span>The agent struck him hard across the chest, leaving another dark bruise.<br/><br/>"Bullshit, you know. So I am going to ask you again..." The agent reared his hand back<br/><br/>"He's ONF, good enough?" said the man,  suddenly sounding defiant.<br/><br/>"Scrum." Growled the agent. He brought the rubber hose against the man's chest again, drawing blood where the metal ends cut into the man. "We'll be back when you want to talk." he said. Him and his partner left the room.