He'd actually have two separate delegation from Brevoy - one, representing the Aldori of Rostland, and a familiar one, representing Brevoy proper. "Stepping up in the world, I see," Camilla said, extending a hand to shake his. "Of course, there's more than a few people who won't exactly be happy to hear you've declared yourself entirely independent. After all, you're supposed to be a<em>colony</em>of Brevoy," she said, giving a playful smirk.<br/><br/>The Mivon delegation remained a fair distance from the Brevoy one - while the two nations had a close history, they had diverged far too long ago, and had few enough communications, that they were not close, and preferred to keep it that still. They were cordial, if a bit standoffish, cautiously curious about Devaguea and his expansion plans.<br/><br/>All seems to be going according to plan... until a sudden clamor arises from the main square of the city, coupled with cries of alarm. The guards were moving swiftly, but after a few moments, there didn't seem to be battlecries, and by the time he and his advisors arrived, the scene had settled... albeit tensely.<br/><br/>Standing at the heart of the town's square, surrounded by guards, and looking utterly unimpressed by them, was an enormous, armor-clad figure, though 'armor-clad' is, perhaps, an understatement. Its armor bears harsh but elaborate flourishes, as though it were the war regalia of some merciless warlord. Each plate looks impossibly thick and heavy, like the hulking titan within is completely hidden by layer upon layer of tightly woven chain and impregnable steel.<br/><br/>When Devaguea comes into sight, though, its attention fixes on him, and booms out, imperiously.<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">"Hand over the sword."</span>