Cambrius

Just on first glance, I'd think that Konrad Curze, being a prominent character in another franchise, may require more of a name change than swapping the C for a K. For myself, I will be submitting Colonel Jefferson Barlow Aries once I can distill him to a few paragraphs. I hope you folks will take a peek at the bits I've written for him, from back in the earlier days of v1. EDIT: And I just noticed this was for last year. lol

Hello again!

My apologies for the bump. Hoping some fresh eyes land here, and just saying that I may be posting the next installment of Colonel Aries sometime soon. Also: I encourage and greatly appreciate any and all feedback!

Thanks, man.

Forgive me if this has been discussed before, but is the avatar model for Lady Justice as unwieldy and fragile as it looks? It looks a right pain in the ass, to be honest....

Is it bad I like the prose better than the scrap itself?

Very well written, sir. Annabella is a very interesting character and I look forward to reading more about her...and the implications for her daughter and grandchild.

Working under the presumption that you're male, I think you write good female characters, like Edith. Apparently that isn't so easy. Well done, sir.

AND! Hermitage Avenue - The Enclave: Location of Colonel Aries' residence. Very cool, man. I should do something similar.

As with everyone else here, I try to utilise the established characters only in passing. This, for a couple of reasons: I try to focus on my own creations and contribute something new, and because I have an inherent aversion to stepping on the creative toes of the original authors. Thechosenone is a notable exception, but the stuff he writes is some pretty awesome (intentionally) alternative perspectives. For myself, I have been writing a few short stories about a character I call Colonel Aries, Ace of Rams: http://www.wyrd-games.net/showthread.php?25015-Colonel-Aries-Ace-of-Rams Colonel Jefferson Barlow Aries (retired) was a cavalry officer in the American Civil War - the history and events of which I have modified rather liberally. Colonel Aries is in his early fifties, he stands six-and-a-half feet tall with a broad chest and shoulders. His iron-coloured hair is well cut in a short and military style, in direct contrast to his prodigious muttonchops and mustache. The colonel's left eye is a piercing pale blue, but his right eye is even more striking. It is a false eye, an orb of black and set with a faceted soulstone the same colour as his natural eye. There's some fun details in the stories as to the hows and whys of the colonel's false eye. His standard garb includes a Confederate cavalry Stetson with gold braiding, in the same grey as his double-breasted wool greatcoat. He usually carries a polished hickory swagger stick that is capped with steel at both ends, and wears stout black knee-high boots with thick steel buckles and jangling spurs. His personality isn't always archetypal: Colonel Aries is a consummate Southern gentleman from Georgia and comes from a family that has been wealthy for a long time. In fact, he is directly descended from one of those "powerful practitioners of magic" that opened the first Breach (and was also trapped and lost when that Breach closed). The colonel is also a bloodthirsty man, taking a barbarian glee in the whirling chaos of battle and in pointing his overlarge revolver at the face of death. I'm still developing Colonel Aries' back story in bits and nibbles, though I have been ridiculously busy of late and negligent in my duties to read and write feedback to my fellow storytellers here. That will change, gentlemen, I promise! I've also added a few more minor characters: Jamish, the colonel's talented personal chef; Nathaniel Jefferson Aries, the colonel's son; and Hamilton Pepper, former officer in the 1st Charleston Guard back Earth-side and currently the senior Guild Guard Captain.

I do pop on here as often as I can, which isn't nearly as often as I would like, but I do try to read a bit. Christmas, my wedding, and the honeymoon have passed eventfully. I have only closing the purchase on our new house and my best friend's wedding to accomplish and then I will be able to spend some free time reading and writing. So, under those conditions, I pledge my continued dedication to you all, my fellow hobby-writers.

Dreadnought directly references Boneshaker in the last 25 pages or so. So now I gotta read about the events in Seattle, dang it!

Dreadnought by Cherie Priest is... awesome! Just plain awesome.

All right, I survived the holidays and celebrated my continued sanity with a trip to a bookstore! I went straight to the science fiction/fantasy section and started my search in reverse alphabetical order. This meant looking first for Boneshaker by Cherie Priest. I didn't find it. What I did find was another of her novels, Dreadnought. Steampunk, with the main character headed for the Pacific Northwest (where I live), leaving behind an alternate universe Civil War. Well holy crap, I found my prize. The book is even printed in sepia ink! And that's where I'll start.

Very cool!

Cheers, guys, and many thanks! I've also figured out how the colonel gets his special eye. I'm kind of excited about it.

This story will continue further; I would also like to thank anyone still reading this thread. I'm trying to be on here more, reading and commenting, even with the increased number of hours I'm working lately. Edonil, Thechosenone, Absolution Black, and the rest... I swear on all things bacon that I will set aside time for your stories.

October 15, 1890 North of Fort Pulaski, Georgia More gun-constructs were turning and approaching to reinforce the royalist rear, heavier platforms armored with an iron glacis. They were negotiating the terrain around a small hill, arranged almost like a shield wall. Then Colonel Aries saw why. Behind the rolling constructs came a larger, armored steam-wagon carrying a long, narrow cannon. Thick black smoke belched from its exhaust as its studded iron wheels clawed at the earth. A royalist banner flew from a staff on the rear, but the crowned black eagle painted on the the front belied its origin. The German Empire had loaned the war machine to the bluecoats. "Ah, hell," muttered Colonel Aries. Nathaniel leaned close to be heard. "We've got to pull out, pa." "I know that, boy." "And we've got to kill that war wagon." "I know that too, dammit!" Tactics and strategies and the experiences of almost three decades of combat command flew through the colonel's mind. The 3rd Cavalry had exacted a heavy toll from the royalists, but wasn't going to do much more good for the Charleston Guard. At the same time, there was no way Colonel Aries would suffer that foreign monstrosity to live. The colonel kicked hard into Thunderchild's flanks and led the lance in a charge up the side of the hill, using the cavalry's speed to flank the oncoming constructs. Thunderchild struggled forward, his irregular gait alerting Colonel Aries to the charger's waning strength. "One more good run, old friend," he said to his mount. As they swept over the hill and angled down at the war wagon, Nathaniel crouched on the charger's back. He steadied himself against his father and pulled all the grenades from the colonel's belt. "What the hell are you doing, boy?" Nathaniel said nothing as Thunderchild was coming alongside the war wagon. The left side of the lance opened up on the backs of the armored constructs even as they fired on the trailing elements of the cavalry formation. Nathaniel tensed for a moment and then flung himself from Thunderchild to the grinding war wagon. He landed awkwardly and scrambled along the back of the wagon toward the long gun. A heavy iron hatch opened and a bluecoat swung a sabre at the younger Aries. Nathaniel narrowly avoided losing a leg before kicking the royalist hard in the face. The enemy crewman fell back into the wagon's interior; Nathaniel primed and dropped three hissing naphtha grenades after him. In that short time, Colonel Aries wheeled Thunderchild around behind the war wagon, the rest of the lance turning away from the imminent explosion. The colonel wouldn't turn away. "Come on, boy!" he shouted, waving Nathaniel back to his mount. Captain Aries turned and prepared to leap back to his father's mount when the war wagon lurched. Nathaniel was thrown forward, over the long gun. Somehow, he managed to tumble into a crouch and sprang toward Thunderchild. Just then, the grenades detonated. The explosion ripped the armored war wagon open, throwing Nathaniel into Thunderchild's side as white-hot shards of iron shrapnel scythed through his legs and back, and through the horse's belly. Colonel Aries was tossed free of his mount. Something smashed the side of his head and the world spun down to black. A muffled buzzing filled his head. Black became gray and fizzed into morning light as he opened his eyes. Or tried, only the left obeyed, and found himself being dragged. That only concerned him when his left eye focused on the body of his son, face down and unmoving in the mud. His good eye bulged, the other responded only with a bright lance of pain he barely registered. The colonel flailed weakly at the hands bearing him away; all of Colonel Aries' strength was spent on a wordless bellow of anguish, a haunting roar of wild, defiant sorrow. Darkness then claimed the colonel with merciful rapidity.

Hey everyone! Just a quick note: I will be continuing Colonel Aries' chronicles soon. But round about this time of year, all of my extracurricular activities start to drop off a bit. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the concurrent sharp increase of overtime hours at work conspires to keep me much busier than usual. This time around however, I also have my own upcoming wedding in January, the honeymoon in Vegas, and then my best friend's wedding in February. So I will be rather distracted from my reading and writing. I will continue to do it, just not nearly as much as I would like. Cheers, folks.

So far I only have his perspective on the United Kingdom of America as might be expected from a loyal citizen of the Confederate States of America. This little bit was a peek at his past and some glimpses of tech.

October 15, 1890 Fort Pulaski, Georgia "The Ace of Rams is always a weapon." - Zoraida A low mist hung over the marshy riverbanks as the morning sun crested the horizon. As the liquid golden light set the darkness into full retreat, the shadows rolled away to reveal the dead in their many hundreds. Broken bodies, broken guns, and broken walls lay spread on the loamy earth, littered with the wreckage of war balloons. Serial murders of crows feasted on swelling flesh and pecked at unseeing eyes. The earthworks were torn open. Blood ran in viscous streams to pool in craters and in the lower places. Lieutenant Colonel Jefferson Barlow Aries (commander, Georgia 3rd Cavalry Regiment, State Guard) stood in his stirrups astride his charger and looked out across the carnage. The colonel’s stallion whickered and stirred beneath him. Thunderchild had a heart of iron but had never enjoyed the stink of slaughter. The night’s battle had been frantic, seen in the strobing flashes of gunpowder discharges. Fort Pulaski had been shelled by devastating Parrott guns. Had the colonel’s horse regiment not arrived in time, the fort might well have been naught but rubble and dust. The 3rd Cavalry had swept into the valley and stormed through the royalist lines like an equine tempest of pistols and sabres. Colonel Aries turned to face his men. Veterans all, they were the best horsemen Georgia had to offer. The three remaining companies looked back at Colonel Aries, all hard eyes and steel hearts. Captain Nathaniel Aries was there nearby, kissing his lucky pendant – and old, spent soulstone – and tucking it back under his shirt. He was covered in mud and blood, more than some of it his own. There also was Major Chambers, somehow not quite as dirty or disheveled as the rest. The battlecasters had all perished in the night and the healers with them. The arcane combat had been horrific for both sides, straining the bounds of sanity. Charred skeletons and piles of ash with sticky lumps of charcoal were all that remained of the practitioners. The colonel spoke, his baritone carrying clearly and breaking the unnatural stillness of the spent battlefield. “This day may very well be our last. We’ve succeeded in breaking the siege of Fort Pulaski and the bluecoats have tucked their tails and run. But anything less than complete victory is tantamount to defeat for men such as us. We are proud sons of Georgia and we’ll not rest on laurels half-earned while the enemy blemishes southern soil with their boot prints. Sweet Lady Fate has more in store for us, boys, and a gentleman doesn’t keep a lady waiting.” Colonel Aries sat back in his saddle and without another word turned Thunderchild hard. Three hundred sets of hooves pounded into the soft ground, the Confederate riders following their commander; the Georgia 3rd Cavalry was on the move. They flowed through the valley, skirting craters and trenches, hurdling or trampling the dead. As they rode they found the clear tracks of the fleeing royalists. Steam-powered platforms carrying artillery and heavy guns left ugly twin gouges in the road, an army of fire and iron unconcerned with concealment. A roan horse emerged from the eastern tree line ahead. Colonel Aries recognized John Saturday, the Cherokee leader of the invaluable Indigena scouts attached to the regiment. Saturday wheeled his mount expertly and pulled up beside Colonel Aries, easily pacing the colonel’s charger on his own courser. The colonel nodded to Saturday. “Make your report, son.” The scout leader was not a man given to preamble. “The 1st Charleston Guard have made contact with the bluecoat pickets and will engage their infantry. If we make haste, perhaps we can close the fist.” Colonel Aries grinned fiercely, an expression that had nothing at all to do with mirth. “Thank you kindly, my boy. Give my compliments to your warriors and send word to the Charleston Guard that the cavalry is coming.” Saturday nodded curtly and sped away. * * * * * Cresting the ridge, Colonel Aries had a broad view of the lowland below. The bluecoats’ column was re-deploying for battle with the Carolinians. War balloons were being lofted high in the gusty air; somewhere to the north, the foot soldiers would be facing off. The colonel paused at the crest briefly, his regiment close behind as he looked through a brass bi-glass at the royalist forces. He turned and bellowed to his men. “The heavy gun platforms are key. They’re big and slow and very, very expensive. We will outflank them. We will close with them, and we will destroy them; our battle brothers are counting on us. A twist of fate has set the wind at our backs and we will race it to the enemy. Save your pistols for platform crews, use naphtha grenades on the guns. Do not engage the main force. Our advantage is in our swift and violent momentum. Now ride!” The Georgia 3rd Cavalry hollered war cries as they rolled over the ridge crest like a screaming tidal wave. Colonel Aries felt an anbaric shiver, his bloodlust rising as he set Thunderchild to battle. At the very tip of the Georgian lance, he drew his sabre and aimed it straight ahead. Somewhere close behind, the bugler sounded the Dixie Fanfare, followed by the brazen notes of Cavalry Charge. The colonel felt his heart pounding, keeping pace with the thundering hooves off three hundred warhorses. The gusting wind stung his eyes and a feral grin bared his teeth. “For Georgia and fair Atalanta! Charge!” Some of the royalist guns had managed to turn in time, and one lobbed a shell at the oncoming Georgians. It landed nearby and the explosion sent a horse and rider spinning through the air. The horse died instantly as it hit the torn ground. The cavalryman was trampled beneath a hundred steel-shod hooves. A Gatling gun-construct swiveled on its steam-powered platform and opened fire, scything down three more riders. But the lumbering gun platforms were no match for the cavalry’s speed. The riders reached the near end of the bluecoat line and wheeled, charging along it. Heavy pistols cracked and royalist crews fell under the hail of fire. They ploughed through small contingents of infantry support squads, some cut down by flashing Confederate sabres. As the lance passed by, riders at the rear primed and tossed hissing naphtha grenades, and the gun platforms erupted in flame and shrapnel. The bluecoats did answer. Gatling constructs and a few riflemen sent streams of hot metal at the Georgians. Horses fell, colliding with other horses or men on their way to the ground. Some riders were able to leap free of their dying mounts, but most were crushed beneath them. The 3rd Cavalry’s momentum slowed just short of the far end of the royalist line. Georgians were taking cover behind dead and dying horses, firing pistols at the enemy. Gun-constructs ripped through them, streaming fire at both the living and the dead. Colonel Aries wheeled the lance and drove it hard back down the line toward his downed men. Momentum was everything. To be stationary was to be defeated and the colonel was not a man to accept defeat. Vaulting over the hunkered-down riders, he steered Thunderchild at an artillery platform, sabre raised. The fallen riders took the colonel’s cue and charged the platform. Georgians rushed the royalist crews and a melee of sword battles ensued. “Too damned slow!” the colonel bellowed. The ground shuddered and a great spray of earth and stone erupted nearby. In their desperation, the bluecoat artillery was shelling their own line in an attempt to kill the Confederate cavalry among them. Farther north, ground crews dragged war balloons upwind, trying to get them close enough to use their bombs. Colonel Aries led the lance in a circle about the fray and spotted Nathaniel leading some men on foot from the smoking ruin of a gun-construct. “Move, damn you!” the colonel hollered at his men. “Move!” Leaning down, he grasped Nathaniel’s arm and pulled him up, swinging his son behind his saddle. "Thank you, pa!” Colonel Aries spared a wry glance at Nathaniel. His son grinned back at him through a split lip, a thin ribbon of blood trickling from a fresh gash on the younger Aries’ face. The wound would provide the boy with another scar and story for the doxies. "Those gun-constructs aren’t so very tough, after all,” Nathaniel said. Colonel Aries couldn’t help it, the boy’s spirit was indefatigable and drew a harsh bark of laughter from his hard-bitten father. TO BE CONTINUED

Wow... that's a very interesting perspective on Lady J behind closed doors.

Control + Alt + Earth Lega Italiana History The balkanised Italies combine to form the Italian League, consisting of the independent duchies of: Milan, Genoa, Venetia, Florence, Rome, Napoli, Sicily, Sardinia, the county of San Marino, and the Vatican Synaxis. Italian history is long and complicated, central to the rise and fall of great civilisations. Between the 17th to the 11th Century BC, Mycenaean Greeks forged trade contacts with Italian settlements. In the 8th and 7th Centuries BC, Greek and Phoenician colonies were established all along the coast of Sicily and the southern part of the Italian Peninsula became known as Magna Graecia. Ancient Rome was at first a small agricultural community founded around the 8th Century BC, that grew over the course of the centuries into a colossal empire encompassing the whole Mediterranean Sea, in which Ancient Greek and Roman cultures merged into one civilisation. This civilisation was so influential that parts of it survive in modern law, administration, magical philosophy and arts, forming the bedrock upon which Western civilisation is based. In a slow decline since the late 4th century AD, the empire finally broke into two parts in 395 AD: the western Roman Empire and the eastern Byzantine Empire. The western part, under the pressure of the Franks, the Vandals, the Huns, the Goths and other populations from eastern Europe, finally dissolved, leaving the Italian peninsula divided into small independent kingdoms and feuding city states for the next 1,300 years. Byzantium became to sole heir to the Ancient Roman legacy. Rome was for centuries the political and magical nexus of western civilisation as the capital of the Roman Empire and site of the Vatican Synaxis. After the decline of the Roman Empire, the Italies endured numerous invasions by foreign peoples, from Germanic tribes such as the Lombards and Ostrogoths, to the Byzantines and later, the Normans, among others. Centuries later came the Maritime Republics and the Renaissance, an immensely fruitful intellectual movement that would prove to be integral in shaping the subsequent course of European magical studies. In the 6th Century, the Byzantine Emperor Justinian I reconquered Italy from the Ostrogoths. The invasion of a new wave of Germanic tribes and the Lombards late in the same century erased the Byzantine presence. The Lombard reign of northern and central Italy was absorbed into the Frankish Empire by Carolus Magnus (Charlemagne) in the late 8th century. The Frankish kings also helped the formation of the central site for the Semite College of Magic, the Vatican Synaxis, in central Italy, originally extending from Rome to Ravenna. Until the 13th Century, Italian politics was dominated by the relationship between the Arcane Roman Emperors in Germany and the Pontifices, with most of the Italian states siding for one or another depending on momentary convenience. It was during this vacuum of authority that the region saw the rise of institutions such as medieval Italian city-states. People looked to strong men to restore order and disarm the feuding elites. Despite the devastation of the numerous wars, Italy maintained, especially in the north, a relatively developed urban civilisation, which later evolved in the peculiar phenomenon of its Merchant Republics. These city-states had a dominant merchant class which, under relative political freedom, nurtured arcane, academic, and artistic advancement. Notable amongst them in northern Italy was the Duchy of Milan: in the 12th century it defeated the encroaching forces of German emperor Frederick Barbarossa, leading to a process granting effective independence to most of northern and central Italian cities. During the same period, Italy saw the rise of numerous Maritime Republics, the most notable being Venetia and Genoa. These maritime republics soon became Europe’s main gateways to trade with the East, establishing colonies as far as the Black Sea and often controlling most of the trade with the Byzantine Empire. The powerful merchant House of Savoy expanded its territory into the peninsula in the late Middle Ages, while Florence developed into a highly organized commercial and financial city, becoming for many centuries the European capital of silk, wool, banking and jewelry. Sicily had become an Islamic emirate in the 9th Century, thriving until the Italo-Normans conquered it in the late 11th Century together with the northern republics and Byzantine states of southern Italy. In Sardinia, the former Byzantine provinces became independent states known as giudicati, although most of the island was under Genoese control until the Aragonese conquered it in the 15th century. The Black Death pandemic in 1348 left its mark on the Italies by killing one third of the population. However, the recovery from the disaster of the Black Death led to a resurgence of cities, trade and economy which greatly stimulated the Renaissance. In the 14th and 15th Centuries, northern and upper central Italy were divided into a number of warring city-states, the rest of the peninsula being occupied by Rome, the Vatican Synaxis, and Napoli. Warfare between the states was common, invasion from outside Italy confined to intermittent sorties of Arcane Roman Emperors. These wars were primarily fought by armies of mercenaries known as condottieri, bands of soldiers drawn from around Europe, but especially Germany, led largely by Italian captains. Decades of fighting eventually saw Milan, Genoa, and Venetia emerge as the dominant players, that agreed to the Peace of Lodi in 1454, which saw relative calm brought to the region for the first time in centuries. The Italian Renaissance peaked in the mid-16th Century as foreign invasions plunged the region into the turmoil of the Italian Wars. However, the ideals of the Renaissance endured and even spread into the rest of Europe, setting off the Northern Renaissance. Following the Italian Wars (1494 to 1559), Italy saw a long period of relative peace, first under Habsburg Spain and then under imperial Germany. In the 18th century, as a result of the War of Spanish Succession, Germany replaced Spain as the dominant foreign power, while the House of Savoy emerged as a major regional power. During the Napoleonic Wars, the northern part of the country was invaded and reorganized as a new Kingdom of Italy, essentially a client state of the French kingdom, while the southern half of the peninsula was administered by Joachim Murat, Napoleon’s brother-in-law, who was crowned as Doge of Napoli. The creation of the Kingdom of Italy was the result of efforts by Italian nationalists and monarchists loyal to the House of Savoy to establish a united state encompassing the entire Italian Peninsula. In the context of the 1848 liberal revolutions that swept through Europe, an unsuccessful war was declared on Germany. Sardinia again attacked the German Empire in the Italian War of Independence of 1859, resulting in liberating the northern duchies. In 1860, Giuseppe Garibaldi led the drive for independence in Napoli and Sicily, allowing the Sardinian government led by the Count of Cavour to declare a Sardinian duchy on 17 March 1861. In 1866, Victor Emmanuel II allied Venetia with Rome and Semite battlecaster regiments from the Vatican Synaxis, waging the Second Italian War of Independence which allowed Italy to liberate Venetia. Finally, with foreign influences largely removed, the House of Savoy rushed to fill the power gap by taking over the Vatican Synaxis. The Sardinian Albertine Statute of 1848, extended to all the sovereign Italian states, provided for the formation of the Italian League, which included articles on basic freedoms, though electoral laws excluded the non-propertied and uneducated classes from voting. While the governments of each league member remained autonomous, the administration took place in the framework of the Italian League Council, headquartered in San Marino, to which all the doges as well as the Count of San Marino and the Pontifex, send an ambassador. Geography Territories: Italy: Milan Genoa, Venetia, Florence, Rome, Napoli, Sicily, Sardinia, San Marino, Vatican Synaxis Total Area: 301,340 sq. km (294,140 sq. km land, 7200 sq. km water) Coastline: 7600 km Climate: Predominantly Mediterranean; Alpine in far north; hot, dry in south. Elevation Extremes: Low – Mediterranean Sea (0m); High – Mont Blanc de Courmayeur (4748m) Natural Resources: Coal, mercury, zinc, potash, marble, barite, asbestos, pumice, fluorspar, feldspar, pyrite (sulfur), natural gas and crude oil reserves, fish, arable land. People Population: 32,475,000 (1900 or 113 Post Foris) Demonym: Italian, Italians (collectively); Milanese; Genovesi; Venetian, Venetians; Florentine, Florentines; Roman, Romans; Neapolitan, Neapolitans; Sicilian, Sicilians; Sardinian, Sardinians; Sammarinese Ethnic Groups: Italian; includes small clusters of German and French in the north, and Byzantine in the south Magical Philosophies: Semite: 90%, Reformist: 8%, Muslim: 2% Languages: Italian (official), Latin (administrative), German, French Government Official Name: Lega Italiana (Italian League) Common Name: Italy (collectively) Capital: San Marino (Italian League Council) Major Cities: Rome, Venetia, Genoa, Milan, Florence, Napoli, Torino, Firenze, Palermo National Holiday: Other Holidays: Political System: Constitutional monarchies Legal System: Italian League Codex Suffrage: 16 years of age, males. Currency: (Ð) Ducat (pl. ducats), lira (pl. lire) 1/100 of a ducat. Flag: Executive Branch Heads of State: Doge Alessandro of Genoa, House of Grimaldi Doge Michel VI of Milan, House of Lombardo Doge Giovanni III of Venetia, House of Garibaldi Doge Victor Emmanuel III of Florence, House of Medici Doge Giuseppe II of Rome, House of Mazzini Doge Fabrizio of Napoli, House of Buonaparte Doge Tomasi of Sicily, House of Angevin Doge Alberto II of Sardinia, House of Cavour Count Francesco IV of San Marino, House of Borgia Pontifex Constantinus X of Vatican Synaxis, House of Savoy Head of Government: Prime Councilor Daniele Manin of Venetia Cabinet: Italian League Council Legislative Branch Members maintain their own legislative bodies. The Italian League Council may pass resolutions, but not law. Judicial Branch Members maintain their own judicial bodies. The Italian League Council may agree upon extradition of accused or convicted persons within the league.

Very cool. I will give this a close look soon.